Thursday 21 January 2010

The Flaming Lips... a candle in the darkness


As a first impression, this sounded like a (pejoratively) American take on Radiohead's In Rainbows - this album being also a modern extrapolation of electro-prog-rock, another homage to the evergreen Kraftwerk legacy. The similarities, though, are perhaps found more indirectly in a shared source inspiration for both groups.

But where Thom and the boys seek out any trace of disonant alienation, sparing scant thought for the listener in the process, the 'Lips are altogether a more cosy, cuddly outfit. They're famous for their live show, where the goal is a visceral form of group entertainment potentially involving stage make-up, enormous ballons, fireworks, animal costumes... oh, and some killer songs. And they're equally famous for their unapologetically 'concept', sci-fi affected studio work - the final track on the last album was titled - "Approaching Pavonis By Balloon (Utopia Planitia)". Recently they organised a mass nude fans cycle ride to provide footage for a video clip. Their raison d'etre is to spread the joy of imagination and their approach is democratically inclusive.

While earlier albums have a child-like sense of wonder and curiosity, with Embryonic they belatedly outgrow the wacky art-student tendencies. This album is much darker. Indeed it goes as far as being decidedly sombre. And with slightly less all around boisterousness, there's space for the melancholic mood to work itself into the fabric. They sound as if they're battling both outer demons and inner nightmares. So the echoey, haunting "Evil", the ghostly, plaintive "If", the mournful "Powerless"... invoke a threatening atmosphere, like a looming dusk. These bitter pills are interspersed between the more upbeat and hopeful "The Sparrow Looks Up at the Machine", "See The Leaves", "The Ego's Last Stand". Their former mode appears briefly on the fantastical "I can be a Frog"... complete with comical sound effects.

The album picks up in spirit towards the end, with a gorgeous, poignant trilogy to close out the album - the puslating "Silver Trembling Hands" drops smoothly into the wistful instrumental "Virgo Self-Esteem Broadcast" which echoes earlier phrases and sounds, before the stirring finale "Watching the Planets" - which roughly encapsulates the whole Flaming Lips kitchen sink in a single track.

There's an early 70's vibe to it, for my money - Pink Floyd, say, or John Lennon. It made me go listen again to Meddle, and the aesthetic is similar, but where that album soars off and away with expansive prog rock, Embryonic definitely seeks a closer, more intimate, connection to the listener. (The band's next album is reportedly a re-recording of Dark Side of the Moon).

Technically, there's a lot of a fuzzed-out overdrive on the guitar and, interestingly, on the bass as well, which helps give it that early 70's sound, resembling say the White Album. The drums and vocals are hugely reverb-ed to give that big booming effect, like the album was recorded in a dancehall. Indeed it sounds almost analogue, which is a delightfully refreshing pleasure.

Despite superficial similarities to their equally prog-rock devoted, uber hip peers, the Lips have been doing this from the beginning and there's really nothing else out there quite like it. There's a coherence to the sound and pace of this album that rewards listening to it in it's entirety. With Embryonic, the Lips demonstrate real compositional maturity. This is a deeply emotional record, full of drama and colour both in the music and the lyrics.

Highlights: "The Sparrow Looks Up at the Machine". "Powerless", "Silver Trembling Hands", "Watching the Planets"

Links: Watching the Planets (live) , NPR Interview - Making of Embryonic

Friday 15 January 2010

The Swell Season... real people, real live (Shepherds Bush Empire, Thu 14th Jan 2010)

It's not really fair on us mere mortals for someone to successfully write music, and lyrics, and sing, and play guitar, ... and be a generous artist not a control freak, and not be an ego maniac, and be utterly engaged and sharing with the audience, and be funny, ... all at the same time, faultlessly.

How does one get to this point in an artistic career (he must have been working as a full time musician, what - 20years?), and not be deeply angry with the world (like say, David Gilmour), or have become introverted and withdrawn (like say, Van Morrison), or just plain bonkers (like say, Prince). You can't imagine Glen Hansard writing a political protest album, or 'reinventing' himself, or writing a musical, or moving 'full-time' to LA. He's just bloody normal like the rest of us, and that's weird.

Hansard has a frankly intimidating cohort of strengths (and every time I think about it I find new ones), but live he has an amazingly soul-warming ability to connect with the audience. At times during the show it's as if he's organising an impromptu singalong at the local pub. (Actually he gets us singing quite a lot - I think he uses it as his own way of gauging how well the gig is going - our singing is his reward, his private payback and possibly the main reason he does this at all).

In the narrative in my head - he's honed his performing manner and on stage presence by busking in the street (just like in the movie Once, so, yes, possibly just a fantasy) - years and years of struggling to earn enough to survive as a musician. The ability to easily drop off the cuff jokes and banter casually like a standup is something that takes many years of live work. The moment where he steps conpletely off mic to the stage to play "Say it to me now", plain and raw, - it's breathtaking - (it works as a gimmick too - the audience is almost shocked), and I think he does it to honour that memory of where he's come from, a gesture of respect towards his art.

The gig was just flawless. It was perfect in a completely natural way, not in a 'every-minute-detail-in-the-proper-place' way. All the musicians are so talented that there's not a wrong note in the entire show - but it's as live and real and in the moment as possible. You're swept away by Hansard's visceral passion and joy for what he's doing.

And then Irglova. On piano, on backing vocals, and singing centre-stage herself - she doesn't disappoint in the least. What I find impressive is her fierce, fierce inner confidence. The boys - Glen and the Frames are a) all Irish (obviously) where she is Czech, and b) they've have been mates and worked together for more than a decade and she's the newbie. And yet she has the confidence to express her artistic voice in amongst that. Her singing reminded me most of Joni Mitchell (which got me thinking about who are the essential female singing archetypes - I reckon;  folk - Joni Mitchell, jazzy - Billie Holiday or Ella or both, poppy - Dusty Springfield, soul - Aretha, indie- Kate Bush, rock/punk - Patti Smith.... ), and her songs are exactly as ethnic/traditional as I thought they were - all in sweet, gypsy tinged, strictly minor keys.

The set was based around most or all of Strict Joy, with various older songs scattered in between, and interestingly just the one cover - a rollicking, fiery version of Tim Buckley's "Buzzin Fly" (with a stanza from Jeff Buckley's)

Some other notes: i) Hansard's guitar - a Takamine accoustic, is used almost entirely through the show (only change I noticed) - I think that's another sign of mature confidence not needing to flit around on various slightly different guitars, ii) The Frames - essentially they're a highly competent rhythm section, there's very little soloing, and the bass player (who has a wonderfully melodic style) is the main momemtum driver - they'd do well in the Austin country/roots scene.

The highlights, besides the entire thing, for me were "In these arms", "I have loved you wrong" and the closing High Horses (they can't pull off the coda quite as well as on the album.. but still it's just stupendously good).

Set list (thanks Martina!)

Fallen from the sky
Lies
Low rising
Feeling the pull
In these arms
The Rain
The moon
If you want me
Fantasy man
Say it to me now
Leave
Back broke
Buzzin Fly (Tim Buckley cover)
solo Interlude by Colm Mac Con Iomaire
I have loved you wrong
The verb
The siren
When your minds made up
Falling slowly
High hopes
High horses

Links:
The Swell Season
The Frames