Today’s Sounds

Record: The Flaming Lips The Flaming Lips and Heady Fwends (Warner)   Warner, you crazy Bros. There’s a whack of deliriously weird and abrasive stuff on this record, a 13-track compendium of collaborations between the Okie elderstatesmen of “indie” rock and other artists. There’s also ample accessible pop, soul and balladry to be found, even […]

Record:

The Flaming Lips The Flaming Lips and Heady Fwends (Warner)

 
Warner, you crazy Bros. There’s a whack of deliriously weird and abrasive stuff on this record, a 13-track compendium of collaborations between the Okie elderstatesmen of “indie” rock and other artists. There’s also ample accessible pop, soul and balladry to be found, even if each and every sonic layer is consistently warped, coated in gristle and fed through a shredder.

The range of collaborators is crazy: from the MOR/mainstream to the odd/obscure, from Ke$ha, Bon Iver, Erykah Badu, Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros (and Chris Martin, who appeared on this album’s original vinyl version, which had a limited release last Record Store Day) to Lightning Bolt, Prefuse 73, New Fumes and Ghostland Observatory. But this is where the consistency in the production pays off, creating unity where it should be scarce – not only are these artists all over the map, but the tracks were recorded over the course of a year and change.

Nearly all 13 songs are compelling in their way, but the record hits a particularly sweet spot in the centre, with a glamorous contribution from Tame Impala, a rousing psychedelic work-out care of My Morning Jacket’s Jim James, a characteristically punchy cut by Yoko Ono and a gleefully unhinged slice of Nick Cave. If there’s one gaffe here, it’s the title of the track feat. Neon Indian. Because David Bowie is immortal, right?

The Flaming Lips have had their hits and misses (yeah, whatever, fuck that song), and even though Wayne Coyne has been known to be a douche, if he can save a few dozen 15-year-olds from bad acid trips, that’s a public service. You’ve got all the brown acid you want, right here.
 

Track:

Die Antwoord “XP€N$IV $H1T”

Never have I been more/less proud of my South African roots than when Die Antwoord emerged from a dark corner of someone’s nightmare a few years ago. Despite the retarded refrain, this is way more “more” than “less.” Perhaps because we can’t see them.
 

 

Video:

Nicki Minaj “Pound the Alarm”

It’s Nicki, it’s Trinidad, it’s Carnival. You can’t get more summery than this high-energy smut. But with Divers/Cité about blow out into the streets and the Village clubs, this doubles as a great primer for the big gay weekend ahead.
 

Leave a Reply