Blood & Confetti:  The Flaming Lips Burn El Rey to the Ground

   What do they say about March?  That it comes in like a lamb and goes out like a lion? Such was not the case last Thursday, March 30, as the legendary Flaming Lips stormed the stage at LA’s resplendent El Rey Theatre, astonishing all while disappointing none.
The wait in the line outside was painfully cold, despite the astronomical wattage that must have been necessary to power the brilliant lights on the marquee.  To make matters worse, the uppity lady in the box office refused to recognize our Union credentials, and my faithful sidekick Eric and I were forced to stand patiently on the street with the plebeians.  Our only source of entertainment came in the form of a bearded lunatic in a Ween shirt, hopelessly combing the crowd for a ticket donor.
     After an equally interminable hiatus within the venue (replete with a freaky, throbbing electronica-plus-video show), the Scottish sample-saturated minstrels Looper took the helm.  To a warm reception, Looper busted out a savory blend of groove-heavy bass, tangled synth-madness, and a slew of preprogrammed drums. It probably didn't matter that Looper was about as much fun to watch as paint since the music was so delightful.
Finally, the Flaming Lips emerged on stage to the tune of Louis B. Armstrong's "What a Wonderful World." With the disco ball emanating snowflakes of light in every direction and singer Wayne Coyne shouting along through a bullhorn, it seemed that the Lips had decided to set the surreal tone of the evening right off the bat.  A large part of that ethereal aura resulted from the film snippets projecting onto a movie screen behind the band.  Gruesome surgery sequences, orchestras, explosions, and outer space would be particularly prominent throughout the show.
     From there, the group burst into a stirring, gong-heavy rendition of "Race for the Prize," from their latest sublime release, The Soft Bulletin (Warner Bros., 1999).  Dressed in a sensible vest and pea coat, Coyne made a point of smearing his face with fake blood every few songs, and thoroughly elated the crowd with his bizarre array of hand puppets. Michael Ivins laid down the low-end law all nite long, cooing along to the lyrics with his manly falsetto.  The conductor of the evening had to be Steven Drozd, chain-smoking wonderboy of the Oklahoma City set.  In addition to his stellar drum tracks booming from the PA, Drozd was called upon to provide piano, synthesizers, guitars, lap steel, and backing vocals, and usually several of each during one song.
The Lips set drew songs mostly from "The Soft Bulletin," like "Waitin' for a Superman," "Feeling Yourself Disintegrate," and "What Is the Light?" but blended in some old favorites, such as the raucous "Slow Nerve Action," a rousing "Lightning Strikes the Postman," and the almost painfully beautiful "When You Smile."
     Before playing their breakthrough hit, "She Don't Use jelly," Coyne distributed copious sacks of confetti into the greedy crowd.  When the song began, a veritable blizzard of tiny paper circles choked the air.  A more magical moment (nor stranger) seems unimaginable.
     Perhaps the most unlikely song performed was a cover of the "Wizard of Oz" classic "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," which Coyne referred to, as one of the greatest songs ever, up there with "Happy Birthday," and encouraged the audience to mumble along. The tune was executed with the Lips' trademarked off-kilter loveliness, and played over an audio/video rhythm-loop of Judy Garland breathing (!).
     The Flaming Lips chose "The Spark That Bled," for their single-song encore. During the refrain, the entire audience seemed to pump a fist and shout along, "I stood up and I said Yeah!"  Afterward, from wall to wall, the frenzied crowd begged for more, but the killjoy house lights meant that it was time to go home.
     I left the theater like everyone else:  smiling, bewildered, and completely covered with confetti.  The Flaming Lips, easily one of the most unique recording groups ever, proved to be absolutely unforgettable on the stage.  Oh, and don't worry about the bearded fruitcake with the Ween tee; somehow, he found his way inside.

By Casey Lombardo
Long Beach Union

Originally printed 4.10.00

Interview (note:  somehow this turned out really long)

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