The ghost of Syd Barrett must have paid a visit to the Flaming Lips, as their new double LP Embryonic has the trippy, psychedelic ambience of creepy krautrock.
Previous albums by the band delivered a stagey, exaggerated rock performance that was more concentrated on concert production than the sound of the music. Just when we thought that the Lips had gone too far with their theatrical style, they hit us with Embryonic, and it hit hard.
The album has a sense of fearless freakery that is a lot to take in upon first listen. Never before has the band produced an album so sinister and so devoid of pop song lightheartedness. Embryonic is likely to charm old fans, who enjoyed the bands far-out sound in the ’90s, but will have the opposite effect on those who began to love the band for sing-a-long hits like “Do You Realize??”
Paired with their offbeat, onstage outfits, the album is one that seems as though it would translate better live, reminiscent of the Pink Floyd laser show, as it integrates odd sounds into long, drawn-out tracks. After four minutes of darkness, tracks like “Evil” finally lift listeners out of the gloom with harmonic vocals that are short-lived. The idea that it may be better live is also due to the heavy, hypnotic bass line. Speaker-busting depths of bass are achieved in songs like “Worm Mountain” and “The Ego’s Last Stand.” These are songs that would make your eardrums bleed in live concert, but would make your ticket price well worth it.
Several other artists made contributions to various tracks on the album, including Karen O of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs for songs “I Can Be a Frog,” and “Watching the Planets,” where her voice is featured in background harmonies. Synth-pop band MGMT also contributed their artistry to the album by offering their neo-tech sounds in “Worm Mountain.”
Embryonic succeeds in producing the shoe-gazing, stoner-rock sound that provides food for thought during the munchies. Their recipe is simple: one part instrumental freakout, one part philosophical lyrics and one part puffed up rockers. Yet, the Lips went a little too far by throwing together the second disk of incomplete, self-indulgent songs that exist just to achieve the double LP status. “I Can Be a Frog” is a good example of this. Lyrics like “She said I can be a frog/ I can be a bat/ I can be a bear/ or I can be a cat,” followed by the respective animal noise are plainly trumped up.
But with the organic sound of Embryonic, we have certainly entered a new Lips phase, which is sure to deliver. Their album will likely garner a good following of indie-space-rock nostalgics, but the chances of many radio appearances for most tracks is as unlikely as seeing Syd Barrett’s ghost.
3 1/2 stars out of 5.
