Summary.
The greatest and craziest disciples of classic Pink Floyd came out of Oklahoma:
the Flaming Lips, whose art
bridged the punk ethos and the hippie burlesque. Their aesthetics was in many
ways derived by cartoons: shapes that were grossly naive and easily
identifiable, stereotyped characters that bordered on parodies, and
simplified and often implausible situations.
Hear It Is (1986) was equally versatile in the comic and the tragic
register. In the former, songs were essentially modeled after Syd Barrett's
oblique lullabies, whereas, in the latter, ingredients included
the Velvet Underground's overdosed tempos,
Neil Young's guitar neurosis and Jim Morrison's melodramatic eloquence.
The semiotic caldron of Oh My Gawd (1987) was a post-modernist
masterpiece. The arrangements were creative to the point of being grotesque,
while abrasive rock'n'roll crescendos, psychotic singalongs and
transcendent dirges seemed to fuel each other to ever higher levels of
unorthodoxy.
Telepathic Surgery (1989) reached a demented level of stylistic collage,
particularly with the
monumental piece Hell's Angel's Cracker Factory.
The streamlined sound of In A Priest Driven Ambulance (1990) and
Hit To Death In The Future Head (1992) relied on catchy
melodies and sound effects in the tradition of early Pink Floyd.
Dreamy litanies and surreal ditties became typical of less and
less adventurous albums:
Transmissions From The Satellite Heart (1993),
Clouds Taste Metallic (1995) and The Soft Bulletin (1999).
The notable exception was Zaireeka (1997), a set of four discs to be
played simultaneously on four different players.
Reviews.
(Translation from the Italian by Nicole Zimmerman)
The music of the Flaming Lips (Wayne Coyne on guitar and vocals, Mike Ivins on bass, Richard English on drums) has been compared to the art of animated cartoons: easily recognizable, rounded forms, a plethora of stereotypes, a collection of spoofs, and a narration that proceeds towards simplification but ends in the implausible. All of which the Flaming Lips have applied to psychedelic rock according to a practice that was not that far off from the creative genius, Frank Zappa.
Fusing ideas from sources as diverse as Miles Davis, Butthole Surfers, Jesus and Mary Chain, and the Beach Boys, their sound became a repository of "signs" of the pop music culture that transcended the original neo-psychedelic thesis.
In their first discs, Coyne showed a melodramatic personality that expressed itself by borrowing the talking-blues "curse" of Lou Reed and the possessed recitation of Jim Morrison. The stellar drumming by English, a worthy successor of Keith Moon and John Bonham, was the ideal accompaniment for the vain strumming of the leader.
The debut EP (LSD, 1984), contained the disruptive and distorted My Own Planet, which made it epic, the "voodoobilly" twist in Bag Full Of Thoughts pulled by the inebriated dancing of medieval poets, and the long "trip" of Scratching The Door, which paid homage the to the first Pink Floyd; one immediately understood the anti-conformist genius and anarchy that connected their music.
The album Hear It Is (Pink Dust, 1986) contained the group's entire stylistic repertoire. She Is Death was the new and preeminent psychedelic piece in the style of the first incarnation Pink Floyd. With You introduced a genre that would be perfected and profitable ad nauseum: a form of ballad in crescendo that was a derivative of the most morbid song by the Velvet Underground and borrowed from the sleepy soliloquies of Syd Barrett. Unplugged was cleverly placed between country, rockabilly, and punk-rock forms with a tamed ferocity that, as in Just Like Before, injected abrasive rock and roll like that of the Stooges (with a riff that echoed You Really Got Me by the Kinks) and that, as in Man From Pakistan, transformed the music into a captivating and warped rebellious garage-rock. A more traditional type of style, that would soon be dropped, was used for minor but catchy tunes like Trains Brains & Rain, a drinking song that reminds listeners of the Mekons. The climax of the disc came in the long (7 minutes), melodramatic Jesus Shootin' Heroin, a sort of nightmare that borrowed from Lou Reed the pace of his agile boogie, from Neil Young the neurotic guitar and, from Jim Morrison the melodramatic recitation.
The direction of Oh My Gawd (Restless, 1987), with alternations between hard and soft moments, followed that of the previous Hear It Is. Among the beginning tracks included was the burning anthem Everything's Exploding, which united the violent noise of the Stooges with the colossal anxiety of the Animals. Then came Prescription Love, with a long instrumental introduction that sounds like the Pink Floyd of Syd Barrett at double time, and then with a refrain in the feverish rhythm of rockabilly, followed with the distorted guitar of the Cramps. In Can't Stop The Spring, a hypnotic guitar riff is obsessively repeated supporting a circus-like melody reminiscent of the Kinks. Among the latter parts of the album, however, were the first demonstrations of melodic talent by the vocalist and guitarist. There was Thanks To You, with feverish guitar reminiscent of the Who in Tommy, Can't Exist, a tender, psychedelic lullaby, and the long piano ballad of Love Yer Brain, that disintegrated near the end in deaf beats and noises. The Flaming Lips tempted fate for the first time with an extended jam, but more than just a jam, One Million Billionth Of A Millisecond, (9 minutes) was a psychodrama that crossed More by Pink Floyd and Magic Carpet Ride by Steppenwolf. All things considered, it was the weak point of the disc, which otherwise would have been a masterpiece. The more hallucinogenic tracks (uneven, inflated, and filled with sound effects) were Maximum Dream, and above all the LCD-induced grand finale The Ceiling Is Bending. The disc was pleasing, especially to the dogmatic listeners that had turned up their noses to the silliness of Hear It Is and wanted the group to be more serious.
Telepathic Surgery (Restless, 1989), conversely, was the disc on which the personality of the group was clearly identified, a personality that until now remained floating in limbo around the sounds of the 60's. Above all, Coyne perked up and accentuated his sarcastic humor, irreverent disposition, and the animated cartoon approach (the jests of Hari-Krishna Stomp Wagon and Redneck School Of Technology, worthy of Bonzo Band). Then the arsenal of gimmicks was excessively applied and the truly infinite fragments came together in the studio. Finally, the dark side of their music triumphed, that side which joined crude space-rock and savagery like that of Hawkwind and epic underground-rock (rather than pretentious rock by the Who), and precision like that of Pink Floyd. While representing their technical and compositional apex, this disc was also the most authentic expression of the outcast/rebel spirit of the band. Their creed was noticeable from the beginning in Drug Machine In Heaven, but even more so in Frying' Up, which was propelled by the riff of Born To Be Wild. The quotations took on the importance of post-modern discourses in: Right Now, which attempted to amalgamate the pulsations and screams of Interstellar Overdrive and the pulses of My Generation, and Chrome Plated Suicide, on which the skillful singer mixed 2 famous arias from Blowing In The Wind and Tommy into one refrain. The monumental Hell's Angel's Cracker Factory (only on the CD version of the disc) was one of the tracks that aspired to the title "masterpiece of the 80's". Hell's was a mosaic piece in the spirit of the 60's, of those more offensive tracks by the Fugs in Virgin Forest and early Frank Zappa.
In A Priest Driven Ambulance (Restless, 1990) assisted the group in its first changes: to the craziest trio of the decade was added the guitarist John Donahue (also in Mercury Rev), who, from the first chords played, seemed to understand the folly of his companions. English in the meantime abandoned music, tired of concerts and recording studios; his successor was Nathan Roberts. It was this disc in which the psychedelic rock of the Flaming Lips began to mature into something else, less eccentric and disorganized, more linear and compact. The beginning, Shine On Sweet Jesus, was "by the book", with furious distortions like Chrome, a hammering martial pulse and a refrain with a psychedelic beat worthy of Syd Barrett, topped off with a chorus of humorous singing both low and high like the vocal groups of the 50's. Along the lines of style of Barrett-Hitchcock, which was largely the soul of this work, Unconsciously Screamin' was the most hallucinatory track, since the spatial refrain by Coyne left room for the torrential acid discharges from the guitar. Here, as elsewhere, it was evident they were indebted to the catastrophic instrumentals by the Who. The style of Barrett was more vivid in the surreal and fairytale type ballad Rainin' Babies, marred by feedback in a celestial sound. More characteristic was the alternation between styles (the musical version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde) - acoustic and electric. In the first style Coyne displayed intimacy on Five Stop Mother Superior Rain, lightly touching upon Bob Dylan, the folksinger that debuted with the depressed lament of Stand In Line. Mr. Hyde comes out in God Walks Among Us, which picked up where Shine On Sweet Jesus left off with another set of tribal rhythms and maniacal injections, psychedelic refrains of filtered singing, and electric guitar charges. The characteristic effects were often head-spinning, while one must also merit the producer Dave Fridmann, who played bass for Mercury Rev. Fridmann showed off as director in the studio - unleashing a dream that few get to realize while his work of manipulation left a decisive imprint on the disc, not giving rest to the listener. Mountain Side was their instrumental enlightenment. It was less like an encyclopedia than the previous album (in the sense that the quotations were less numerous and less obvious), less conditioned by punk of 2 chords and by the junky sound of garage-rock, and always in line with the philosophy of B movie soundtracks (science fiction and horror). In A Priest Driven Ambulance suffered only due to the lack of fundamental tracks. Even if the disc was worth less than Hear It Is and Telepathic Surgery (the CD), 2 "songs about Jesus" at least, God Walks Among Us and Shine On Sweet Jesus, as well as Unconsciously Screamin' entered into the repertoire.
With the disc Hit To Death In The Future Head (Warner Brothers, 1992), which was both confused and unresolved, the group tried more than anything to be heard by a wider audience, as reflected in the more pop style tracks such as Everyone Wants To Live Forever, which was agile and aggressive like their best rock and roll tracks. However, stealing the show was the refrain, one of the catchiest of their career; Halloween On The Barbary Coast, was their counterpoint on the other side, with a more pressing guitar riff and a performance that was a bit raga. Other memorable melodies emerge in the folk-rock march of Hit It, and in the melodic sketch similar to that of the Kinks (with the surreal style of Pink Floyd) of Gingerale Afternoon. The culmination of the mannerisms of this disc was Frogs, which transformed the dazed and off-key chiming rhythm into demented chaos. The tracks were full, as usual, with humorous findings, but in general the recording was more serious and determined than in the past: these were professional songs, certainly not amateur garage-rock. A disorder prevails that was almost too composed. Just about all of the melodious tracks repeated the same pattern: they were psychedelic rhymes conducted in dry tones and fuzz grinding on the guitar, strengthened by spatial chorus' in falsetto with Baroque trumpets, and above all, spoiled by a chronic infantilism.
Complementary to those naive refrains, were the more hallucinogenic tracks, that immersed themselves in soft and languid sounds, in which one can hear the influence of the vocal harmonies by CSN&Y and in the bucolic folk of White Album (The Sun). And so the atmospheric summit of the disc was the feeble prayer embellished by dissonance that concluded the track Hold Your Head. In the Baroque style of Oh My Gawd, and far from their antagonistic sound, the creative and iconoclastic style of the other disks, Hit To Death signaled the technical (if not artistic) maturation of the group. The guitar, in particular, had never been so clear and balanced. For his part Coyne improved as a song-writer as well as a singer: as a writer who put together serious and polished text, and as a singer who resurrected the prophetic and desperate feelings of the many teenagers during the 80's by way of Westerberg. Frogs, Everyone Wants To Love Forever, and Gingerale Afternoon became instant classics.
Coyne's philosophy was that of a modern poet: alienation of the rural uneducated class, and verses of an older poet who writes of alienation of the urban educated. The group's intellectual level was well represented by the lyrics "You're fucked if you do and you're fucked if you don't", akin to a mid-western truck driver and certainly not like the intellectual snob who enjoys the photographic style of Andy Warhol. Coyne did not have much to say: life, death, love. His universe ended there. His universe wasn't a grim and sinister "nothing", but simply a deformed "circus of the absurd".
The rough times had not ended however: Roberts (recently married) was replaced by Steven Drozd, and Donahue (who launched a solo career) was replaced by Ronald Jones. Transmissions From The Satellite Heart (Warner Brothers, 1993) confirmed the talent of Ivins and Coyne for composing catchy refrains and submerging them in a sea of sound effects; but this time the psychedelic was no longer a reason to put together animated cartoons, no longer a personification for surreal documentaries, but was reduced to a minimum, to a simple sound in the tradition of late Pink Floyd and also Sgt. Pepper. Frequently, Coyne took refuge in a lullaby that was dreamy and sad; such was the case in Turn It On, Superhumans, and Chewin' On The Apple Of Your Eye, with arrangements that varied from acoustic to classical. There was a pair of psychedelic demonstrations (lousy arrangements, amateur rhythms, and cascading effects) in Pilot At The Can Of God and Be My Head, which did not deviate, more or less, from the middle tone. The notable surreal jest of She Don't Use Jelly was the manual of how the Flaming Lips composed memorable songs: a rhyme, a chime, and a march (a borrowed theme, in this case specifically from the Rolling Stones You Can't Always Get What You Want). Coyne found that his dull and narcotic song book had the same power of suggestion as did Roger Waters, and that he could "sell" his trance ballads in lounges. To their fans, the boys from Oklahoma, gave 3 more gems: Moth In The Incubator, during which the chaos of the sound effects took over and unleashed a psychedelic "ride" in crescendo; the faint march of Oh My Pregnant Head, flooded with reverbs and fuzz; and the finale of Vegetable, in which Coyne plunged into another one of his catastrophic crises, but this time everything (the pace of march drums, languid wails of the acoustic guitar, fragile chimes of the xylophone, and martial distortions of the electric guitar) was truly demented.
The Flaming Lips triumphed by the painstaking care in which they arranged these tracks. This was, in effect, the Dark Side Of The Moon for the Flaming Lips, in which the group transformed a sound they forged for years by experimentation (layered quotes and noises) into a trademark.
The group had to wait months to release their next album because the classical composition of Transmissions penetrated the nervous systems of the masses, but in the end they took satisfaction in hearing their songs on popular radio. Clouds Taste Metallic (Warner Brothers, 1995) was along the same line: convoluted ballads, whispered between the dreamy and vulnerable laments by Coyne, and an extravagant array of sound effects. This was how the solemn tracks, The Abandoned Hospital Ship and They Punctured My Yolk, were created, but they had already been heard many times in the preceding discs. Every now and then (Psychiatric Explorations Of The Fetus With Needles) the group returned to the epic chord progression of the first Pink Floyd, and every now and then a rhyme with a more lively rhythm (Kim's Watermelon Gun) ushered forth from the general dullness, but the march of Bad Days (that borrowed the refrain of the 1963 hit I Will Follow Him) was given the most unlikely arrangement - only sobs. The "She Don't Use Jelly" of the disc was Brainville, a whispered country-vaudeville style chorus. The only surreal lyrics (among the protagonists there were brains, giraffes, molecules, and rifles in the form of watermelons) to be heard paid homage to the myth, but the psychedelic chaos that made them famous was gone. the Flaming Lips compensated with their ability to produce and to refine in the studio; to blend the classes. The somewhat forced burlesque style of This Here Giraffe, Christmas At The Zoo, and Guy Who Got A Headache And Accidentally Saves The World however, had arias that were a little too distorted which denoted a very tired group.
The story of the Flaming Lips could be summarized as: the first period (the first album and Hear It Is) still in limbo with garage-rock; the explosion of a (still Baroque) psychedelic verve in Oh My Gawd; the rationalization of their ideology in post-modern songs on Surgery; Ambulance which signaled the apex of the schizophrenic crisis of the group's soul torn between the garage-rock of their beginning and the convoluted harmonies of their maturity; Hit To Death used that same schizophrenia to experiment with form; Transmissions adapted that form as dogma within the ballad style of Neil Young.
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La musica dei Flaming Lips (Wayne Coyne al canto, Mike Ivins al basso, Richard
English alla batteria) e` stata paragonata all'arte
dei cartoni animati: forme grossolane per quanto riconoscibili, un paesaggio
di stereotipi, un registro parodistico, una narrazione che procede per
semplificazioni fino all'implausibile.
Tutto cio` i Flaming Lips l'hanno applicato al rock psichedelico secondo
una prassi che non e` poi cosi` lontana da quella del piu` creativo di
tutti i freak, Frank Zappa.
Fondendo idee che provengono da fonti tanto lontane quanto Miles Davis, i
Butthole Surfers, Jesus And Mary Chain e i Beach Boys, il loro sound e`
diventato un calderone semiotico di "segni" della cultura musicale popolare che
trascende l'originario assunto neo-psichedelico.
Nei primi dischi Coyne aveva messo in mostra una personalita` istrionica che
si esprime prendendo a prestito il talking-blues "maledetto"
di Lou Reed e la recitazione invasata di Jim Morrison.
Il drumming galattico di English, degno erede di Keith Moon e di John
Bonham, e` il corredo ideale per le schitarrate vanesie del leader.
L'EP d'esordio (LSD, 1984), con la dirompente e distorta My Own Planet a dare
il passo epico, il voodoobilly distorto di Bag Full Of Thoughts a
trascinare in un'ebbra danza da goliardi e il lungo "trip" di
Scratching The Door ad omaggiare i primi Pink Floyd, aveva subito fatto
capire il genio anticonformista e anarchico che sottendeva la loro musica.
L'album Hear It Is (Pink Dust, 1986) conteneva in nuce gia` tutto il
loro repertorio.
She Is Death faceva di nuovo capo
alle piece psichedeliche dei primi Pink Floyd.
With You inaugurava un genere che avrebbero perfezionato e sfruttato
fino alla nausea: una forma di ballata in crescendo
che e` un derivato delle trenodie piu` morbose dei Velvet Underground
e dei soliloqui piu` sonnambuli di Syd Barrett.
Unplugged collocava astutamente fra le quadriglie del country,
il rockabilly e il punk-rock una ferocia addomesticata che
Just Like Before iniettava nel
rock'n'roll abrasivo degli Stooges (con un riff che echeggia
You Really Got Me dei Kinks)
e che Man From Pakistan trasformava
in trascinante e perversa carica eversiva da garage-rock.
A una vena piu` "roots", tradizionale, che si sarebbe presto esaurita
appartenevano invece episodi periferici ma orecchiabili come
Trains Brains & Rain, inno corale da pub reminescente dei Mekons.
Il climax del disco culminava nella lunga (sette minuti), melodrammatica
Jesus Shootin' Heroin, sorta di incubo eroinomane che mutua da
Lou Reed il passo di boogie leggero, da Neil Young la nevrosi chitarristica
e da Jim Morrison la recitazione melodrammatica.
L'andamento di Oh My Gawd (Restless, 1987), con quell'alternarsi di
momenti "duri" e momenti piu` "soffici", ricalca quello del precedente
Hear It Is.
Fra i primi si annovera subito l'anthem bruciante Everything's Exploding, che unisce il baccano violento degli Stooges all'ansia titanica degli Animals.
Poi Prescription Love (una lunga introduzione strumentale che sembra i Pink Floyd di Syd Barrett a velocita` doppia, e poi un ritornello a ritmo febbricitante di rockabilly con chitarra distorta alla Cramps).
In Can't Stop The Spring un riff ipnotico di chitarra che viene ripetuto ossessivamente puntella una melodia da circo alla Kinks.
Fra i secondi invece, prime dimostrazioni del talento melodico di cantante
e chitarrista, ci sono Thanks to You con chitarra febbricitante con echi degli Who di Tommy,
Can't Exist, una tenera ninnananna psichedelica,
e la lunga ballata pianistica Love Yer Brain che si disintegra verso la fine in colpi sordi e rumori.
I Flaming Lips tentano per la prima volta la sorte con la jam estesa, ma
piu` che una jam One Million Billionth Of A
Millisecond (nove minuti) e` Uno psicodramma che incrocia i Pink Floyd di More e gli Steppenwolf di Magic Carpet Ride. Tutto sommato e` il punto debole del disco, che altrimenti sarebbe un capolavoro.
I brani piu` "lisergici" (sconnessi, dilatati, pieni di effetti sonori) sono
Maximum Dream e soprattutto il gran finale lisergico d
The Ceiling Is Bending.
Il disco piacque soprattutto ai pedanti che avevano storto il naso davanti alla
clownerie di Hear It Is e avevano auspicato una maggiore serieta`.
Telepathic Surgery (Restless, 1989), viceversa, e` il disco in cui
si chiarisce definitivamente la personalita` del gruppo, finora
rimasta a oscillare nel limbo degli anni '60. Innanzitutto Coyne
recupera e accentua il proprio sarcastico humour, l'indole irriverente e
l'approccio a cartone animato (le gag di Hari-Krishna Stomp Wagon e
Redneck School Of Technology, degne della Bonzo Band).
Poi l'arsenale di trucchi si amplia a dismisura: sono veramente infiniti
i frammenti che vengono incollati insieme in studio.
Infine trionfa il lato piu` oscuro della loro arte, quello che si puo`
collegare allo space-rock grezzo e selvaggio degli Hawkwind e al rock piu`
underground dell'epoca piuttosto che alle magniloquenti rock opere degli Who e
alle cattedrattiche suite dei Pink Floyd. Pur rappresentando il
loro apice tecnico e compositivo, questo disco e` anche l'espressione piu`
autentica dello spirito ribelle e sottoproletario della band.
Ne fa fede fin dall'inizio Drug Machine In Heaven, ma ancor piu`
Fryin' Up, propulsa dal riff di Born To Be Wild. Le citazioni assumono anzi
il valore di disquisizioni post-moderne: Right Now, che riesce ad
amalgamare la pulsazione e l'urlo di Interstellar Overdrive e la cadenza di
My Generation, e Chrome Plated Suicide, con il cantante abilissimo nel
miscelare in un unico ritornello due "arie" celebri come Blowing In The Wind
e Tommy.
La monumentale Hell's Angel's Cracker Factory (presente soltanto sulla
versione CD del disco) e` uno dei brani che aspira al titolo di massimo
capolavoro degli anni '80. Hell's e` una suite mosaico nel vero spirito
degli anni '60, quelli piu` trasgressivi dei Fugs di Virgin Forest e
del primo Frank Zappa.
In A Priest Driven Ambulance (Restless, 1990) si assiste ai
primi cambiamenti della formazione: al trio piu` "sballato" del decennio
si aggiunge il chitarrista John Donahue
(anche Mercury Rev), che fin dai primi
accordi sembra capire al volo la follia dei compagni.
English nel frattempo ha abbandonato la musica, stanco di concerti e
studi di registrazione: al suo posto subentra Nathan Roberts.
E` questo l'album in cui il rock psichedelico dei Flaming Lips comincia a
mutare in qualcos'altro, meno eccentrico e disordinato, piu` lineare e
compatto.
L'inizio, Shine On Sweet Jesus, e` da manuale, con quelle distorsioni
furibonde alla Chrome, una cadenza martellante "cingolata" e un ritornello beat
psichedelico degno di Syd Barrett, il tutto condito da un coro umoristico di
voce bassa e di falsetto alla gruppi vocali degli anni '50.
Nella linea Barrett-Hitchcock, che e` l'anima di gran parte di quest'opera,
Unconsciously Screamin' e` il brano piu` lisergico, sia per il ritornello
spaziale di Coyne sia per le torrenziali scariche "acide" delle chitarre.
Qui, come altrove, e` evidente il debito vero le code strumentali
catastrofiche degli Who. Lo spettro di Barrett e` ancora piu` vivido
nella ballata surreale e fiabesca Rainin' Babies, sempre scandita da fendenti
di feedback ma in un tono di follia celestiale.
Sempre piu` caratteristico risulta
quell'alternarsi alla Dr.Jekyll/Mr.Hyde di suono acustico e suono elettrico.
Nel primo stile Coyne sfodera l'intimismo di Five Stop Mother Superior Rain,
per lambire il Bob Dylan folksinger degli esordi nel lamento depresso di
Stand In Line.
Mr.Hyde viene a galla in God Walks Among Us, che
riprende da dove Shine On Sweet Jesus aveva lasciato con un'altra bolgia
di ritmi tribali e inserti maniacali, ritornelli psichedelici di canto
filtrato e scariche elettriche di chitarra.
Gli effetti chitarristici sono spesso da capogiro, e il merito e` anche del
produttore Dave Fridmann, che suona il basso nei
Mercury Rev. Fridmann sfoggia
come "regista" in studio una fantasia scatenata come pochi e il suo lavoro di
manipolazione lascia un'impronta determinante sul disco,
non da` tregua all'ascoltatore.
Mountain Side e` il loro satori strumentale.
Meno "enciclopedista" dei precedenti (nel senso che le citazioni sono meno
numerose e meno palesi), meno condizionato dal punk da due accordi e dal
garage-rock da spazzatura sonora, e pur sempre in linea con la filosofia da
colonne sonore del B (fantascienza/horror), In A Priest Driven Ambulance
soffre soltanto della mancanza del brano chiave.
Se il disco vale meno di Hear It Is e di Telepathic Surgery (il CD),
due "canzoni di Gesu'" almeno, God Walks Among Us e Shine On Sweet Jesus,
nonche' Unconsciously Screamin', entreranno in repertorio.
Con Hit To Death In The Future Head (Warner Brothers, 1992), disco confuso e
irrisolto,
il gruppo tenta piu` che altro di farsi ascoltare da un pubblico piu` ampio,
come traspare dai numeri piu` pop: Everyone Wants To Live Forever e` scattante
e grintosa come i loro migliori numeri di rock and roll, ma a rubare
lo show e` il ritornello, uno dei piu` orecchiabili della loro carriera;
Halloween On the Barbary Coast, il suo contraltare sull'altra facciata,
ha un riff di chitarra ancor piu` immediato e un andamento un po' raga.
Altre melodie memorabili affiorano nella marcetta folkrock di Hit It e
nel bozzetto melodico alla Kinks (con il piglio surreale dei primi Pink Floyd)
di Gingerale Afternoon. Culmine del manierismo di quest'opera e` Frogs,
che trasforma una filastrocca stralunata e un carillon stonato in una baraonda
demenziale.
I brani sono infarciti, come sempre, di "trovate" umoristiche, ma in generale
il registro e` piu` serio e determinato che in passato: queste sono canzoni da
grandi arene, non certo da "trip" nei sottoscala.
Prevale una scompostezza troppo composta.
Quasi tutti i brani melodici ripetono la stessa struttura: sono girotondi
psichedelici condotti dalle timbriche secche e dai fuzz stridenti della
chitarra, rafforzati da cori spaziali in falsetto e da trombe barocche, e
soprattutto viziati da un infantilismo cronico.
Fanno da contraltare a questi ritornelli naif i brani piu` "lisergici", che
si immergono in un sound soffice e languido, nel quale e` possibile riconoscere
l'influenza delle armonie vocali dei CSN&Y e del folk bucolico del
White Album (The Sun). Cosi` il vertice atmosferico del disco e` la
tenue preghiera infiorettata di dissonanze che chiude l'opera, Hold Your Head.
Nella linea del barocco di Oh My Gawd, e quindi lontano dal sound truculento,
iconoclasta e creativo degli altri dischi, Hit To Death sigilla la maturazione
tecnica (se non artistica) del gruppo.
La chitarra, in particolare, non e` mai stata cosi` nitida
e calibrata nei suoi interventi.
Dal canto suo Coyne e` migliorato sia come scrittore di canzoni sia come
cantante. Come scrittore riesce a mettere insieme testi molto seri e forbiti.
Come cantante resuscita il
registro profetico e disperato di Westerberg, nel quale tanti teenager degli
anni '80 hanno lasciato il cuore.
Frogs, Everyone Wants To Live Forever, Gingerale Afternoon
sono i nuovi classici.
La filosofia di Coyne e` quella di un
poeta moderno dell'alienazione incolta di provincia, non quella di un vecchio
poeta dell'alienazione colta della metropoli. Il loro livello intellettuale e`
ben rappresentato da liriche come "You're fucked if you do and you're fucked if
you don't", degne di un rozzo camionista del Midwest e non certo degli
intellettuali snob alla Andy Warhol. Coyne non ha molti argomenti da discutere:
vita, morte, amore. Il suo universo finisce qui.
Il suo universo non e` per nulla torvo e sinistro,
ma semplicemente deformato in un grande circo dell'assurdo.
La fase turbolenta non e` pero` terminata: Roberts (sposatosi) viene sostituito
con Steven Drozd e Donahue (avviato a una carriera solista) con Ronald Jones.
Transmissions From The Satellite Heart (Warner Brothers, 1993)
conferma il talento di Ivins e Coyne per scrivere ritornelli
orecchiabili e immergerli in un mare di effetti sonori; ma in questa musica la
psichedelia non e` piu` un pretesto per mettere insieme dei cartoni animati,
una metafora per girare dei documentari surreali, ma e` ridotta ai minimi
termini, a una semplice sonorita`, nella tradizione dei primi Pink Floyd e di
Sgt Pepper.
Il piu` delle volte Coyne si rifugia in una forma di cantilena trasognata e
un po' malinconica; e` il caso di Turn It On, Superhumans,
Chewin' On The Apple Of Your Eye, sia pur con arrangiamenti che vanno
dall'acustico al classicheggiante.
Un paio di fanfare psichedeliche (arrangiamenti festosi, ritmi da banda paesana,
melodie beat, effetti in cascata) come Pilot At The Can Of God e Be My Head
non si discostano piu` di tanto da quel tono medio. Su tutto
svetta la gag surreale di She Don't Use Jelly, che e` un manuale di come
i Flaming Lips compongono canzoni memorabili: una filastrocca, un carillon
e una marcetta (e un tema rubato ad altri, nel caso specifico ai Rolling Stones
di You Can't Always Get What You Want).
Coyne ha scoperto che il suo registro melenso e narcotico ha lo stesso potere
di suggestione di quello di Roger Waters, e che puo` pertanto
"vendere" anche nei salotti a` la page le sue ballate-trance.
Agli intenditori i ragazzi dell'Oklahoma regalano ancora tre perle:
Moth In The Incubator, la baraonda in cui gli effetti dilagano e prendono
il sopravvento, scatenando una giostra psichedelica in crescendo;
il deliquio marziale di Oh My Pregnant Head in un diluvio di riverberi e
fuzz; e il finale di Vegetables, quando Coyne sprofonda in un'altra
delle sue crisi catatoniche, ma questa volta il tutto (passo militare della
batteria, languidi vagiti di chitarra acustica, fragili rintocchi di xilofono,
distorsioni marziali di chitarra elettrica) e` davvero demente.
Dappertutto trionfa la cura certosina con cui questi brani sono stati
arrangiati. Questo e`, in effetti, il Dark Side Of The Moon dei Flaming Lips,
in cui il gruppo trasforma un sound forgiato da anni di sperimentazione (quel
collage-are e stratificare citazioni e rumori) in un brevetto, un logo, un
marchio di fabbrica.
DEvono attendere mesi i Flaming Lips perche' la classica compostezza
di Transmissions penetrasse il sistema nervoso delle masse, ma alla fine
si tolgono la soddisfazione si sentire le loro canzoni alle radio piu`
commerciali.
Clouds Taste Metallic (Warner Brothers, 1995) corre lungo le stesse coordinate della
ballata lambiccata, bilanciata fra il lamento trasognato e vulnerabile di Coyne
e un circo stravagante di effetti sonori. Nascono cosi` le solenni
The Abandoned Hospital Ship e They Punctured My Yolk,
ma le abbiamo gia` sentite tutte diverse volte nei dischi precedenti.
Ogni tanto (Psychiatric Explorations Of The Fetus With Needles)
torna a galla la progressione di accordi "astronomica" dei primi Pink Floy;
ogni tanto una filastrocca a ritmo piu` vivace (Kim's Watermelon Gun) fa
uscire dal torpore generale;
e la marcetta di Bad Days (che ruba il ritornello a un hit del 1963,
I Will Follow Him) indovina l'arrangiamento piu` improbabile;
ma sono soltanto singhiozzi.
La She Don't Use Jelly della situazione e` Brainville, un bislacco
country-vaudeville da canticchiare in coro.
I soliti testi surreali (fra i protagonisti si contano cervelli, giraffe,
molecole e fucili a forma di anguria) danno lustro al mito, ma si sono ormai
estinte le baraonde psichedeliche che li resero celebri.
I Lips compensano con l'abilita` di produttori, di rifinitori in studio,
di collagisti di classe.
Il burlesque un po' forzato di
This Here Giraffe,
Christmas At The Zoo e
Guy Who Got A Headache And Accidentally Saves The World
ha pero` l'aria un po' troppo raffazzonata e denota
un gruppo molto stanco.
La parabola dei Flaming Lips puo` essere cosi` riassunta: un primo periodo
(il primo album e Hear It Is) ancora nel limbo del garage-rock; l'esplosione
di una verve psichedelica addirittura barocca in Oh My Gawd; la
razionalizzazione di quell'ideologia nel canone postmoderno di Surgery;
Ambulance segna l'apice della crisi di schizofrenia, con l'anima contesa fra
il garage-rock
degli inizi e le armonie lambiccate della maturita`; Hit To Death usa quella
schizofrenia per sperimentare sulla forma; Transmissions adotta quella forma
a dogma e la plasma nella forma-ballata di Neil Young.
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