The Flaming Lips Experiment
There's something liberating about seeing an assortment of alternative musical talents,
sitting like a school music assembly, looking expectantly towards the orchestrators of
what can only be described as one of the most simultaneously frightening and beautiful
musical experiences of the 1990s. The Flaming Lips have taken some brave steps to do
something new and exciting with the performance of live music, all the while managing to
sidestep pretension and create an astounding show that involves music which comes only
from tapes.
The necessary tests provide some small amusement, as the musos try to get their tape
starting technique synchronised with the grand scheme, but this is very much an
ice breaker as Wayne Coyne stalks the walkway in his ubitiquous yellow raincoat and all
present wonder 'Just exactly what is going to happen?'
The answer is almost humbling: the first song proper "The Big Ol' Bug Is The New Baby Now"
takes on a new form compared to its appearance on the 4cd "Zaireeka" album. Tonight, once
Wayne's captivating story is told, the Disney feel is gone and the room is filled with a
somehow exhilarating rumble that crawls around beneath a myriad of voices calling the
refrain of the title. It's so LOUD and yet ambient, like a religious cult singing a
welcome to an earth destroying earthquake - an effect no doubt aided by the ever
assured Michael Ivins' manipulation of the multiple PA system arranged around the
spacious Forum hall. When the aurally assaulting finale of several dogs barking from
each of the 40 tape decks arrives, it feels like this could well end up being a harrowing
evening.
At this point, pretty much everyone present is then in new water as we move to the five
compositions in the set tonight which are played only at the Boombox Experiments. For
most of us this is the only time we will ever hear this music - and witness three people
controlling and manipulating the constituent sounds of that music in such an adept way.
The animated figures of Wayne and (the almost manic) Steven Drozd seem to be compulsive
viewing for the 'orchestra' as the pair direct the control the volume of each of the
forty 'Boomboxes' operated by the participants. What they do is to play each half of
the orchestra both against and with each other - at some times it's like a decibel
face-off, at others like a swelling body of water lapping from one side of the stage
to the other.
As we go further through the set, the orchestra is used more (and increasingly) specifically,
to create an incredible effect such as during "Realizing the Speed Of Life" when Wayne
and then Steven bring in waves of Boombox sound featuring a baby crying. Laid against
the dark melodies woven into the sound, this creates an incredibly real impact. Then
Michael calls out the numbers of each Boombox in order to build a huge chorus of trumpets
that begins "Heralding In A Better Ego." Before those eight minutes are over, we get
random choices of Boomboxes to put in so many drums that go against the prevailing beat
yet still (somehow) serve only to augment a buffeting sound that could almost make you fall over. The
sheer abandon that creeps into the set by the time of "Schizophrenic Sunrise" means we
have insects, birds, and breathing on one side of the stage - facing twenty harps
plucking different chords that manifest in turn into lawnmowers. The result is an
intense and incredibly dense sound that seems to fill not only the room but also your
consciousness.
The perfect finale of "Altrusim" features the sample of Meg Ryan's faked orgasm (from
"When Harry Met Sally") set against music that embodies the conflicting beauty and
oppression of sex and lust. As Wayne and Steven wheel in different quarters of the
orchestra to provide real emphasis to the sexual tension of the sequence, a pulsating
bass makes the whole thing seem somehow sleazy and bad. The incredible thing here is
the gravity of feeling provoked by this apparently simple five and a half minute
composition. To see how Wayne and Steven become immersed in wielding that huge sound,
to the point of almost falling over each other, only adds to the intensity of the whole
thing.
The confused emotions provide a bookend to the set, as if to say "Well, here we are..."
The feeling is that we all just got to see three people's total unadulterated vision.
For the audience and the participants, a one time shot at witnessing something quite
hyper-real and perhaps revelatory. It's a triumph for Wayne's stated intention of
creating a new, involved and entertaining live musical experience. The final question
really is, from the point of view of both the songwriter and the listener, where do
you go from here?
