I can't recall which LP (or EP- vinyl really, back when they still did that sort of thing in America- before the second coming of the vinyl jesus) they were touring on- but the story I heard was Wayne had to mix something up in the kitchen and take a photo of it to meet the deadline for the album cover art. They'd been busy touring or something and really didn't have time to do much else with it- besides, Wayne took control of all the art direction. They had that record out- major distribution, a decent manager- the first Michelle (who was also I believe the manager for the Pedal Jets, a band that influenced the Lips more than they'd care to admit) This was about 1987 or 88. This point in a band's career is probably the most memorable to be in or work with. Just before the bus, and not quite enough for a support crew. Everyone seems to try just a little bit harder....they have to.
So "live" visuals were Mike's little extra detail to the show. Doubling his bass duties, he would set up this set of footswitches downstage. It was a mess of duct taped lamp cords into a series of light boxes, strobe lights, fog machine, and pyrotechnic devices.
The first time I worked with them the effect was stunning. We turned out all the house lights and they ran everything from stage- enveloping the whole club in the throbbing strobe, fog, and psychodelic drench of the Flaming Lips wall of guitar sound. It assaulted every sense of the human body. It scared the hell out of a lot of people, no-one had heard or seen anything like it before.
That first show, I wasn't sure what the hell I was mixing, but I dug it. No convention. No rules. Screw the firemarshall who just walked in and had me unplug the fog. Like acid, this was out of control and you just couldn't do anything about it until you came down.
I was pretty excited about working with the Lips again for their next show. We were all having a blast, good sound check, I was happy with the volumes, I can't remember the opening act- maybe the Pedal Jets. I was up in the sound booth- far removed from the fracas on the soaked dance floor, they were about halfway through their set- Mike's running the light show with his feet, everything's just pumping right along in it's psychedelic grind- I didn't even know Mike had "flash-pots" on stage. Really.
Just as he clicks on the button he spins around probably to avoid burning his face. He's walking back to his bass rig with his back to the audience as they begin shouting back at him. "Hey! You're On Fire!!" Now Mike has the funkiest frizzy hair I have ever seen on an Anglo Saxon, and it went up fast! Still his back is to the audience, he's looking at his amp cocking his head like something is burning up in his amp. He knows something is wrong, He just doesn't know what. I try shouting through the talk-back microphone- nothing. I think he know's now his head is on fire but he wouldn't drop the bass in the middle of a song to put himself out.
Finally someone rushes up on stage, beer still in hand. I don't know if the half tackle or the spilled hero's beer put him out. Mike still wasn't sure what was going on. Like I said all of your senses were assaulted- it was too loud- foggy- and strobing, to really know what was going on. The patron shouted at the puzzled Mike in his ear- "Hey Man! You were ON FIRE!!"