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Plasticland had the good sense to keep the plastic in their name, where it belonged. Their music provided ample evidence of chemical integration, but unlike Blondie they cared enough to use the very best. Their clothing was made from all natural materials--yet even while working within such limitations they managed to evolve a collective costumery that marked them as true rebels: these guys had far too much class to be caught dead in a suit with a skinny tie. They favored beads and caftans and brocades and all the audiovisual foppery of 1966-7. In its own way this was every bit as ridiculous but it wasn’t nearly as conformist as the assembly-line punk brigade; therefore they were way cooler if only by default.
Plus which, not only were they acid eaters, they were righteous acid eaters. Unlike so many nowadays who treat it as some guilty secret (which does nothing to further the day in which they will no longer be persecuted for their beliefs), with these guys you could all but smell the chemicals. They had it, and they were more than willing to flaunt it. In a way, this is only marginally better--the band had a more well-adjusted attitude toward their hobby, but it was still being regarded as a Big Bad Deal. Somewhere between ambivalence and foppery is the possibility of treating psychedelic input and output casually, simply, sensibly--as a fact of life. It’s a stance the Grateful Dead pioneered, and an unspoken component of what’s most charismatic about the Flaming Lips: unspoken because there’s no need to fixate on it. You hear them and you just know; you nod in recognition and your listening goes that much deeper.
But this is now and that was then. Drug users were to the 80s what communists had been to the 50s--the new Threat To Our Way Of Life. Things have not exactly improved since then, nor will they anytime soon. But it’s a stagnant issue for now, whereas back then you could barely pick up a newspaper without having your intelligence insulted. In the face of such a climate as that, we needed a few psychedelic fops.
Unlike most of those who would be offended by the above, they even had a sense of humor! Their label, Pink Dust, thoughtfully saw to it that their 2nd and best LP arrived with a sticker that read:
PLASTICLAND “Wonder Wonderful Wonderland” The new LP by America’s premier psychedelic band. “Beats anything I ever did”--John Lennon “Blew my mind”--Jimi Hendrix “The rhythms are incredible”--Keith Moon “If I were alive today, I’d buy this record”--Jim Morrison |
Since he couldn’t buy the LP for himself, I ended up getting that one twice. (The CD has no such sticker attached, perhaps Morrison managed to score a copy from Kurt Cobain.) Hmmmm, not a John Denver, Jim Croce, Sonny Bono or Karen Carpenter in the lot. With endorsements as heavy as these, how could you possibly have left this record in the rack? Was it really necessary to pick up Around The World In A Day instead? (Aw, c’mon--just say no!)
Like Prince, they used instruments such as bouzouki and mellotron. Unlike Prince, they knew what to do with them. They were so cool they made a live album and called it Confetti. They made another with Twink (drummer for most of their biggest influences: Tomorrow, Pretty Things, Pink Fairies and Syd Barrett) and called it You Need A Fairy Godmother. They were able to get away with song titles such as “The Gingerbread House,” “A Quick Commentary On Wax Museums,” and “When You Get Subliminal, You Really Get Sublime.” Their singer had one of the most wonderfully snotty vocal stylings since the days when Mick Jagger was still a dilettante punkoid and not averse to pissing on a gas station now and then. Plasticland sound like if they ever did piss on a gas station, it’d come out misty and multi-coloured. My advice is to purchase one of their albums as quickly as possible. If you don’t, you leave them with no alternative: they’ll be coming soon to a reservoir near you.
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