A Flaming Lips concert is a visual feast. The band pulls out all the stops, creating a colorful backdrop for their trippy pop symphonies. Frontman Wayne Coyne enters a gigantic plastic bubble and is hurled off the stage. He is caught by a sea of adoring fans, who propel him from the stage to the back. It is his way of connecting with the audience; maintaining intimacy in an arena rock setting.
Wayne Coyne has another bubble, but it is invisible to the naked eye. This bubble exists only in his mind, where he creates the psychedelic soundscapes that the Lips have become known for. Embryonic is unflinching, uncompromising, challenging. The music on this record is so weird that it’s hard to believe it came out on a major record label. For fans who came to the table on the back of “Do You Realize??,” Embryonic will be a jarring experience.
Embryonic makes no concessions to the pop market. There is nothing close to a guitar riff or a pop hook. Each track is a collage of sharp keyboards and terrifying sheets of distortion. “Convinced of the Hex” features a sharp wah-wah riff that goes up and down in stabbing bursts. The synthesizer beeps angrily, accentuating the menacing nature of the guitar riffs. Coyne’s unassuming voice fights to be heard underneath the chaotic kaleidoscope of sound.
Beneath all the avant-garde noise, there is the angelic sound of bells and chimes. On “Aquarius Sabotage,” they are at war with the nasty layers of distortion, percussion and keyboards. They lose several battles, but never quit. They are constantly there, determined to inject some beauty into the dark landscape. Then the album suddenly changes gears. The intense waves of distortion are gone. The landscape becomes soft and tranquil. “Gemini Syringes” is similar to Pink Floyd’s “Breathe,” with a spare arrangement and distant vocals. The tranquility is paranoid, as if the distorted freakouts could come back at any time.
After all the twists and turns, a duet with Karen O comes as a relief. However, “I Can Be A Frog” is not a hipster version of “You Don’t Bring Me Flowers.” Coyne names several animals his lover says he can be, as O replicates their sound in the background. O’s voice is muffled and distant, like she’s talking on the phone, giggling hysterically.
Embryonic is really hard to analyze, because it’s so unconventional. If it was just unconventional for the sake of being unconventional, then it wouldn’t be as compelling as it is. The Flaming Lips did not forget to write songs. Underneath the squeals, crashes and buzzes, the Lips’ pop heart is beating, but it takes a lot of patience to find it. Embryonic doesn’t come close to penetrating the bubble within Wayne Coyne’s mind, but some things are best left to speculation.