Tag Archives: The Flaming Lips
Cinematic music 4/30 [2022)
“You Still Believe in Me”–The Beach Boys
“Smokestack Lightnin'”–Howlin’ Wolf
“A Spoonful Weighs a Ton”–The Flaming Lips
“All Cats Are Grey”–The Cure
“Perfect Day”–Lou Reed
“The Spark That Bled”–The Flaming Lips
“Cars Hiss By My Window”–The Doors
“Someday We’ll Be Together”–Diana Ross & the Supremes
“Big Me”–Foo Fighters
Cinematic music 4/12 [2022)
“Sea of Love”–Phil Phillips and the Twilights
“I Only Have Eyes for You”–The Flamingos
“Everlasting Arm”–Mercury Rev
“Comfortably Numb”–Pink Floyd
“What is the Light?”–The Flaming Lips
“Estampes: III. Jardins sous la pluie”–Claude Debussy
“Lose My Breath”–my bloody valentine
“Piano Concerto in G Major, M. 83: 2. Adagio assai”–Maurice Ravel
Cinematic music 4/11 [2022)
“Wonderful”–The Beach Boys
“Don’t Just Do Something”–Spiritualized
“Us and Them”–Pink Floyd
“A New Career in a New Town”–David Bowie
“Piano Concerto in A minor, Op. 16: II Adagio”–Edvard Grieg
“Here Come The Warm Jets”–Brian Eno
“Thirty-Five Thousand Feet of Despair”–The Flaming Lips
“Country Boy”–The Band
“High Coin”–Harpers Bizarre
“How About a Nice Game of Chess?” [2021)
Recommended if you like The Flaming Lips and QAnon.
Breakfast cereal video game.
Pauly Deathwish’s 3rd album.
I am behind.
I can’t keep up with this guy.
Out of the gates like Flaming Lips.
30,000 feel of despair.
Right into Isao Tomita.
Like first Stereolab album.
Here Come the Warm Jets.
Cheyenne Mountain jams.
I can no longer see what I’m typing.
- What if I type in white? Ahh, yes. That does the trick. But it ruins my style. Louis-Ferdinand would not be happy. Totally Air. Pocket Symphony. Who is Kevin? Shields? Ayers? Fairlight. Synth clouds. Rich chords. Very sophisticated harmonies and arrangements. Cornelius from Japan. This sounds very modern. OH FUCK! Groove is in the motherfucking heart. Vogue! So on track two, we are straight up on a catwalk. But it could be Alan Vega or Martin Rev. Kinda Sun City Girls. Zoviet France. Fridmann never gets this crazy with bass. Wayne is driving it weirder. This was, from what I hear, done with ZERO budget. Is this a dance album? First you have poetry. Then you are prose. Amateurs. Into Odelay. That was a good drum break. The Strokes. Fuzzy vocals. Paliament/Funkadelic. Sly Stone! Later Stereolab. Tim Gane processing. Counter melody! For fuck’s sake. Somebody listen to this bloke. Whoa. What is up with this chorus? Roland Kirk? Like in Switzerland? Definitely hitting some Os Mutantes twee. Lo-fi as fuck. Great Godard tongue in cheek. Apparently about Neil Young and Rick James being in a band together when they were young and still in Canada. Yonge Street? Beats. Drake needs to hear this. Bit crusher lisp. Spiritualized at the grocery store. Swipe barcode. Song peaks at end. Masterful mix. A true climax. Savage mastering on every album. Whole mix jumps. It works. Needle skipping. American Supreme. Claustrophobic. COVID. Sad. Scared. Apocalyptic. The concept of the gaze in cinema. Bass drops in. Feel it in your sex organs. A sexy song. “Cobra Strike”. This is unequivocally a dance album. EDM all up in here. Lots of panning. Spliff it. Micro gestures. Pandemic planning. How long will it last? Soul-crushing. Zombie metaphor. Shaun of the Dead. Masterpiece. Beatle drums. First Velvets album. Rat trails. “Black Angel’s Death Song”. “The New Pollution”. Dr. No. Walther PPK. What does this kid know? He can’t possibly know, can he? Pure phase. Visconti. Lanois. Acid jazz. Nick Cave. Montage, mon beau souci. Flaming Lips. Jeff Tweedy drawl. Jesus and Mary Chain team up with The Cure. Disintegration. Heartbreak here. Who broke his heart? Bleeps and bloops. Robot noises. Heartbeeps. Jazz funk ’70s experimental upright. Great lyrics. Superimposition. Steenbeck! Fucking great lyrics on “Snip Snip”. Oh, damn. Glockenspiel at just the right time! Icy. Air. Virgin suicides. Dazed and confused. Blonde. Braids. Like glazed bread. German. Texas. Floating world. Old world. No one to smoke a doobie with and stare up at green trees. No tits. What is wrong with this world? Rambo. Fort Bragg. Delta. Boykin. Intelligence Support Activity. Send me. George Crumb. Black angels. Jungle echoes. 4thPOG. Ghosts. PSYWAR op. Make it loud. Romeo foxtrot. Shall we dance? Charlie don’t surf. Death on the dance floor. Public Image Ltd. Modes of limited transposition. Messiaen. Primal Scream. Standing with Johnny Rotten. #Trump2021 . But this is more about big tits. Giant opals. Garth Hudson. Telegraph. Total loss. Persona non grata. Window still missing. Swastika eyes. Paul Weller. XTRMNTR. Shoot speed. Kill light. Eyes owned 2020. The ugly had a chance. Masks work…if you’re ugly and need to get laid. Back with another block rocking’ beat. Private psychedelic reel. War metaphor. Is this about election? No. Too early. Look at liner notes. Living in COVID times was like a world war. War just beginning? Got my pina colada. Fuck it! Arizona. Living boldly. Masks have lost. Two weeks. Could have been a contender. Circuit bending. Talking about big titty schizophrenic. All footwork ruined. Toys. Falling apart gremlin workmanship. Awkward line about Thora Birch. Explicit warnings a little lazy. Getting a bit Lenny Bruce up in here. Russ Meyer. Second line. Double time. Crazy drums. Smooth as Sade. Tambourine is the star. One organic element. Wrote a song. She didn’t care. Wrote her 200 songs. She didn’t care. One has zero plays globally. She never bothered listening to it. Some things not meant to be. Liberals and conservatives. Go and create. Lobster. Work wasn’t. Bought her every flower imaginable. Thousands of dollars on flowers. Yoshimi laser warfare. A piano not standard. Some Tori Amos bullshit. Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli. Only the finest pianos. Internationally famous. Neither deserve it. Pulled the plug at the wrong time. Would he have still kept the same track listing? Maybe so. Heartbreak to rehash. Goes by quick. Good drum programming. James Bond future theme. Brian Wilson. Phil Spector. Absolute Nigel Godrich. Cinematic. The album that never was. But this one is worldwide, motherfuckers. Third this summer. And a fourth already out. I can hardly keep up. I need to review movies. Doesn’t Pauly Deathwish know I don’t have time for Galaga? Falling apart. Short-circuit. Charlotte Gainsbourg. Flashback to Bucolic.
It starts just like Charlotte Gainsbourg.
But there is something different.
A shruti box?
A little distorto guitar.
A little Yo La Tengo.
Built to Spill.
Guitar carries it for a second.
And then into an Amon Düül II warble.
Like Marc Bolan.
Most annoying sound in the world.
Into Pink Floyd.
Circa The Wall.
Almost a premonition of impending doom.
Calm before the storm.
J. Spaceman telephony.
Floating with no highs and no lows.
Strong opening track.
Immediate Delgados shift.
Great counterpoint for a pop musician.
But if you check this bloke’s CV…
You’ll know he went through Fux.
Gonna have to say Elliott Smith.
Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci.
Megan Childs violin.
Around the warm fire.
Strings open up.
Orchestral bass that Lou loved.
This guy’s a bastard.
Is this a breakup album?
I thought the last one was a breakup album?
Into Gorwel Owen.
The last GZM album.
Money never runs out.
Cheap air organ.
A very apropos album title.
Spring water Scotch.
And then the Great Reset arrives.
Like a fucking spaceship.
What is this glitch business?
Thom Yorke blasts upon the scene.
Drums James Brown.
Caught by Lee “Scratch”.
Guitar all mangled.
Bert Jansch out of fucking nowhere.
Track rejected by Bond franchise.
Acoustic to electric.
Now it’s Serge.
More Brian Wilson.
Van Dyke Parks.
Still a sadness.
That the old world is passing away.
Right into some Leonard Cohen shit!
How the FUCK was this recorded?
Sounds like 2″ tape.
how has this Pauly Deathwish released three albums in two months?
I can’t even keep up with this guy.
Like a Christmas album.
See You on the Other Side.
A review in the liner notes.
Record pillaging wizard.
Lots of fucking glockenspiel on this record.
But it’s nice.
Like Ennio Morricone.
Again with sugar plum.
Fresher than the sweetness in water.
Light, British, airy.
Is this the single?
A little neo-psych Hendrix moment.
It’s definitely GZM.
Repetition until transcend.
Stereolab first album.
Definitely some breakup here.
Lots of drum machine.
Drum and bass.
Definitely holds up with Radiohead.
How the fuck was this made?
PD tells us that it was all made on an iPhone with only a Telecaster.
That is some serious trickery.
This is COMPLEX music.
Mixes sound polished.
Some Chinese stuff.
Noise floor fucked for the first time ever.
It’s THAT good.
How was this made?
This heralds a new talent.
But this bloke is 44.
Tour sponsored by Ensure.
Not hearing a sophomore slump here.
Two albums in two months.
Review third forthcoming.
This dude is emo as fuck.
I dig it.
This guy is a mystery.
What is his deal?
This sounds more like a cohesive album that Introversion.
Introversion sounds like a debut album…in all the best ways.
Songs saved up.
A greatest hits.
Go big or go home.
This album deals much more in subtlety.
Not every song here is a home run.
This album breathes.
More Beach Boys vibes.
But mentally sharp.
A spark of genius.
A little bluegrass.
The old world is passing away.
Incredible String Band.
Back and forth.
And across to Ireland.
There’s the single.
“Makes Me Wanna Stay in Bed”.
Hate is all you need.
Coming in from the cold.
Delayed bass from The Wall.
Good fucking song!
All Is Dream.
Hard following up.
Emma Pollock solo.
With Alun Woodward singing.
The Great Eastern.
Let It Come Down.
A Rush of Blood to the Head.
This bloke is serious as fuck.
I’m sensing a Jandek promotional strategy.
Final track Richter.
Big symphony night.
Excitement of New York Phil.
The fucking french horns!
A story in dynamics.
A folk album.
That glow in The World’s End.
But a sadness.
My Bloody Valentine.
Sloshy grunge hats.
I Am the Cosmos.
Yerself Is Steam.
The disappearance of Madeleine McCann.
You don’t know how it feels.
I can only give you everything.
Black magic warded off by honesty.
Serge on the way.
Lenny Bruce, even.
Hit to Death in the Future Head.
Wait at least until track three to break it down.
Southern Harmony and Musical Companion.
The confusion of ridiculous counterpoint.
Tonal, yet dissonant.
Thick Billy Corgan.
Definitely a sadness here.
All you need is hate.
The Inflated Tear.
Columbus, Ohio with duct tape.
Posing with a bass clarinet.
Did I ever write one?
Yes, I did.
Or is it contrabassoon?
Nadia Boulanger can tell you.
My teacher’s teacher (twice over).
The Left Banke.
Transient Random-Noise Bursts with Announcements.
A little lo-fi.
Changes that pull at your heartstrings.
A fucking marimba solo?!?
Are you kidding me???
Pauly Deathwish collaboration with Gordon Gano of Violent Femmes.
Lost Bayou Ramblers.
Gordon knew him as Death.
I have become death.
Tim Gane tone.
Back to J. Spaceman.
Dirty ass rock and roll with pristine horns.
Is this the artist we’ve been waiting for?
R. Stevie Moore?
Sounds like Jack Nitzsche.
Major Velvet vibes.
Dylan with P-bass.
Too much attitude.
Let it Come Down.
Fucker kicked the bucket.
First to be vaxxed.
First Suicide album.
The Soft Bulletin.
Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space.
Gimme some lovin’?
La Monte Young.
First rehearsal tapes.
New York City heroin.
Warhol Factory torn down.
Across from YMCA.
Great throwaway lyrics.
Sound of universe.
Direct into mixing console.
Blood pressure rising.
I think I’m in love.
Will the circle remain unbroken?
When I had dinner with Roky.
First Velvets album.
But you gotta buy it.
Cop shoot cop.
On the jukebox.
Eat at the gas station.
First time in Texas.
It’s definitely Bowie.
Old is new again.
A fuck ton of flutes.
Flute loops literally.
Little fluffy clouds.
Gay glam chorus.
Boys peel out.
Gives me pants.
A Shot in the Dark.
Under the Western Freeway.
With Sean Mackowiak.
Comes back loud.
One song mastered soft.
The main influence of Pauly Deathwish’s debut album.
Chariots of fire.
Such a groove.
By the side of a freeway.
Under an underpass.
Not like RHCP.
How did a Trump supporter make this album?!?
I thought all Trump supporters were redneck morons???
This is way fucking better than Ariel Pink’s dabblings.
This sounds like a debut album.
Songs saved up.
Like The Strokes.
Cinematic as fuck.
Trail of Dead.
Because Pauly wrote the string arrangement on IX.
Snot on the crowd.
Lost Bayou Ramblers lost sessions.
This was all made on an iPhone?!?
Major 7ths in uppermost range of piano.
Almost indistinguishable from octaves.
Only for the sensuous ear.
Waters delayed bass.
No nonsense drums.
Humble Pie reference?!?
Predating new Bob Dylan album.
Check SoundCloud timestamp.
This is definitely the QAnon anthem.
This hook should be on a million conspiracy videos.
“10 Days of Darkness”.
Tell ’em Large Marge sent ya!
My end is my beginning is my end.
Great debut album (if I do say so myself).
A Fantastic Fear of Everything [2012)
I found this one difficult to watch.
I’m still alive.
Tell them I’ll call them back.
This is a rather inventive film.
Wrapped up in web mind.
Super glues a knife to his hand!
For fuck’s sake!!!
That’s when it started to get good.
But God knows how long it took me to survive the punishing beginning.
My Beautiful Laundrette.
Working Title Films.
Bean, Lebowski, Ali G., Johnny English, Shaun, Fuzz, Paul, World’s End, Grimsby, Saoirse Scots…
These are my films.
The auteurs of comedy.
And the muse.
My journey through addiction.
Knowing you’re an addict.
And not a patient on medicine.
Can I recapture?
Forgot the soap.
Soiled with blood.
Had burned off the hair on one side of his head.
Very much like lovely bones.
Kiss to remove my gag.
Martin Rev suicides the wrap arounds from Wal-Mart.
Blinking LEDs chasing across the brow.
Creepy as fuck!
Yet in the mold of Frank Giustra (suing Twitter for comments I and others made).
Free speech, mate.
Yes, you have a psychopathic vibe.
It is my human right to state so.
Hackneyed serial killer.
Headbutt dog and duck.
The star here (besides our subject of study, Simon Pegg) is the beautiful Amara Karan.
Investment banker (!): M&As.
Get the fuck out!
not a terminal degree, but quite academic for iTunes fare.
Pegg’s least-purchased movie (it appears).
But really a fine job by Crispian Mills (Kula Shaker, wot?!?) and Chris Hopewell.
Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure [1985)
This movie is kinda like LSD.
Not that I would know.
But from what I hear…
If you come into it with fear and anxiety, it will be a grating, disorienting, annoying experience. Frightening.
But if you come into it at peace and relaxed, you might just have a wonderful time viewing this movie.
The first third of the film was tense for me.
Everything is tense for me.
Thank God for drugs.
And so the rest of the film was quite charming and (dare I say?) meaningful.
We probably all know the Pee-Wee story…how he got caught whacking off in an adult movie theater.
But everyone deserves a second chance.
Sure, a guy who wakes up in the morning wearing lipstick and rouge might be a little suspect to some, but this whole film is fantasy.
Back to psychedelics…
It’s only appropriate that my old computer has just come down with the trippiest virus I’ve ever seen.
But no matter.
We push on.
Five more days.
Yes, Pee-Wee is like Mr. Bean.
And when Pee-Wee dances, it presages Napoleon Dynamite’s talent show jaw-dropper by some years.
Paul Reubenfeld –> Paul Reubens –> Pee-Wee Herman
In Hollywood, you can be anyone you want to be.
That’s entertainment (as The Jam sang).
But we have to give a shout out to the adorable Elizabeth Daily who plays Dottie.
Madame Ruby only accepts cash…even on a rainy night.
But she also does income tax.
Sure, Pee-Wee looks a little too comfortable in his Audrey-Hepburn-meets-Laverne-&-Shirley frock, but that’s part of his oblivious joy.
Large Marge is, of course, unforgettable.
Diane Salinger is really great as Simone.
With that aching dream to get to France.
I know. This dream.
I lived it.
And how I’d so like to go back.
“Au revoir, Simone…”
Nothing like sitting on a tongue…watching the sun come up between some teeth.
But then we get my hometown.
And a lot of it!
Please don’t think we all speak like Jan Hooks 🙂
As an amnesiac, Pee-Wee can recall but one thing:
“Remember the Alamo!”
So let’s see…fainting after bike theft (Truffaut) followed by EMS and oxygen? Check.
Amnesia after being thrown from a bull? Check.
Hospitalization after riding a Harley through a wooden sign? Check.
I am remiss to mention that I forgot the appendectomy in Spies Like Us.
These signs that God is looking out for us.
A story which didn’t resonate during my youth.
But only after I’d fallen in love to Messiaen.
Only after I became Tropic of Cancer.
A duck in Milton Berle’s pants is enough to get Pee-Wee on set at Warner Brothers.
What ensues is truly a zany take on the car chase cliche.
Then Pee-Wee frees the animals at the zoo. XMAS
And with handfuls of snakes, faints again (trumping Truffaut) before first responders revive him.
Breaking the rules was a way to promotion in the 1980s.
And when it’s couched in playful imagination, it is charming indeed.
When it’s funny. A farce. Comedic.
Pee-Wee as bellhop is like Jason Schwartzman’s understudy in The Grand Budapest Hotel.
Director Tim Burton deserves heaping credit for making this an actually timeless film. It is creative throughout.
It’s really a joy to see.
Just don’t take the brown acid.