pompeii am götterdämmerung
Now kids, I have seen many a livestream in my day . . . mainly because I am bone broke. But the reason I am so damn grateful for livestreams is because I am bone broke, live in Toronto where there are no open-air music festivals and am too young to hop cities or whole provinces to catch some of said open-air festivals by myself. As of RIGHT now, approximately 9:49:25 pm, I just got off from seeing a livestream of the Flaming Lips at Alabama, of which I wrote up an A4-page-and-a-half worth of notes and immediate thoughts on. And for the sake of archiving, I'll be writing up a transcript here.
8:15 local
Wayne is wearing gray trousers, a white shirt, a neon pink belt and a ridiculous tetracolour fur scarf. He's playing the chords to Do You Realize??. It is still light out. Already the stage and equipment are littered with neon swimming noodles, streamers, scraps of confetti, etc. so I might have tuned in a bit late. Behind the band is a large, circular LED videoscreen showing either a feed of Wayne's face or music videos of songs as they are performed. The audience joins in immediately.
It is said that what Loser is to Beck, She Don't Use Jelly is to the Flaming Lips. The audience sings louder than Wayne at some points, knowing all the words by heart.
Steven begins singing "yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah"s and the crowd cheers. THE YEAH YEAH YEAH SONG. On the screen the words "yeah" and "no" appear in all different languages and alphabets. As Steven sings the whiny falsetto vocals that make up the bridge, he tugs on his throat to achieve an exaggerated vibrato (think almost like Tom Kenny as he laughs like Spongebob). With all your power, with all your power, with all your power . . . the song ends and Wayne points out to us that Steven is using his phone. "He's not texting, he's not checking his Twitter account, he's not making a phone call or whatever. He's actually going to use his phone to play the solos . . ." And he does. The band plays a strange new track, Is David Bowie Dying?, which they've done on an EP with Alan Palomo of Neon Indian.
After the weird new track is a sweet, quieter take on Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, Pt. I, almost like the band is playing to a lover or small daughter. Wayne sings through nearly the whole track on a smile as the crowd sings along. It's beginning to get dark. When the quiet Yoshimi comes to a close, the band dives into the mayhem of See the Leaves. Red light pours over the stage. Over the cutting guitar and drums, Wayne takes to a cymbal. LED screen shows the figure of a nude woman, any features obscured by bright red-and-green, oversaturated light; she's also playing the cymbal, crashing her baton upon it more acerbically than Wayne does. The juncture of her thighs is covered by a glittering star. During the climax of the song light pours out behind her as she dances, spinning round. The lights stretch out in concentric circles of different colours as she spins; Wayne has taken up his giant hands. Nighttime now. A reflecting ball hangs over him and it appears as though laser lights are coming from his hands, which he reflects towards the ball, and then outward at the audience. Song continues to build up; light explodes, fire and smoke pour out. The crowd is overjoyed. I cry.
(a very long take of) See the Leaves closes, images of animals' bared teeth and open mouths are shown on the screen. Bassline for another Embryonic favourite, THE EGO'S LAST STAND, begins. Guitar is like numerous professional quick cold knife slashes made by a trained killer. First mistook SIREN on megaphone as Wayne wailing! Image of a man's swollen, wide-open, impossibly green eye is up on the screen, invoking feelings of panic and mania. He looks desperate, afraid. Afraid of what? Wayne falls on his back and stands as though in triumph.
The song ends and everyone and everything calms down. It seems as though the tumult of the last song is quickly forgotten and eased away as Steven casually says, "This song goes out to anyone who's on Molly . . ." A beat and organ begin; the beginning of the truly fantastic Pompeii Am Götterdämmerung. Red lighting again. All you see are their silhouettes in the red, red light, and somehow it's befitting alongside all the layers and textures in the song. It could be raining on the screen. Steven sings, god nothing can be better than Steven Drozd singing, no matter what.
Idle, dark. The set might've ended but as the camera turns back from the cheering crowd to the stage it appears as though the Lips haven't left yet. crowd begins cheering "FLAMING LIPS" and then "ENCORE". I sincerely hope for one, as I'm hoping for a performance of Race for the Prize (or any Soft Bulletin song really) until two roadies arrive to pull away Kliph's drum set from centre stage. Then the crowd starts cheering, the lights come on and Wayne, sans scarf, jumps before them twice. a light briefly shines over the crowd who clearly want more . . . the woman reappears on the screen, figure now obscured by a galaxy. a planet glows yellow behind her. Wayne whispers something to a roadie. Who's that pumping up the audience onstage as a simple dirge plays from somewhere? he's not a band member. he has braids. the crowd, in unison, raises their arms in reaction to something as the image of an eye in all different lights appears flashing on the LED screen. WAYNE PREPARES HIS SPACE BUBBLE. Steven is back; Michael and Kliph appear on a ramp raised above Wayne and return to their instruments with a wave . . . they begin an instrumental piece. Wayne's bubble continues to inflate as he is inside it; Steven and Michael play continuous weaving riffs to Kliph's cymbals.
Wayne is jumping up in his ball. He rolls onto the crowd who are awaiting him. (This is my favourite part.) They pass him around and Wayne falls over a few times, laughing all the way as he greets them. His roll among the crowd is short; he returns to the stage quickly. The woman is playing the cymbal again as Wayne retreats to somewhere backstage. The Lips--sans Wayne--continue their instrumental with drum rolls and riffs until Wayne returns and they begin the truly chaotic Worm Mountain. Wayne plays the siren again. As he sings through the megaphone, it sends off sparks and smoke. Giant balloons have made their way around the show, tumbling along the stage and crowd. red white blue yellow pink green. Wayne bursts a large yellow one and is met in the face by confetti; he tumbles onto his back again before bringing his smoke-and-streamer pipe. Streamers are now stuck to the equipment and rafters and microphones as more confetti falls around them. Steven pulls off the organ outro with aplomb as more concentric circles of colour stretch out again on the screen behind them.
Then, total darkness. When the lights come on again the crowd chants "ONE MORE SONG", but I think that it is truly over. No Race for the Prize, no Soft Bulletin. Another roadie appears and the lights flash along with his movements of getting the audience pumped. The Lips reappear, clapping their hands and returning to their instruments once more. Wayne outfits himself with an electric guitar. "Thank you guys thank you thank you thank you we love you. We're gonna do one more song. We wish we could stay here tonight . . ."
Wayne plays two notes and instantly we know that it is The Observer. He hardly plays the first two phrases when a steady drum beat begins and my heart picks up. "WHAT IS THE LIGHT," I yell out. INDEED. Wayne's voice is characteristically shaky and a bit weak, yet wholly powerful. They will give me my Soft Bulletin after all.
"SHINING / ALL / AROUND / YOU", the screen says, amid stars that race the horizon point. "'Love is the place that you're drawn to' . . . It's right here," Wayne says to the crowd. The stars pool and meet into the words, "WHAT / IS / THE / LIGHT" . . .
Wayne begins The Observer again while Steven appears to be encouraging him. The tempo does not change; we are still moving to the steady metronome that is Kliph's steady, single beating upon a drum pad. Steven's accompanying keyboard is light, like glass. The audience is quiet and remains loyal as ever, faithfully hanging on to the music. Their energy is unbelievable.
The number closes, the set ends for sure and for the life of me I can't make out what Wayne says.
It's now 11:08:41 pm and I'm still riding off the high of being able to catch this livestream. Among the streams I have watched, I've managed to miss about the same number. The show was everything I heard a Lips show was going to be, and so much more. I have to wonder if that wave of emotion I felt would be amplified if I actually attended a show, in the flesh, with all that colour and music and energy around me.
WHEW, I am bushed, sorry for sounding cheesy, SNL soon! goodnight bye
8:15 local
Wayne is wearing gray trousers, a white shirt, a neon pink belt and a ridiculous tetracolour fur scarf. He's playing the chords to Do You Realize??. It is still light out. Already the stage and equipment are littered with neon swimming noodles, streamers, scraps of confetti, etc. so I might have tuned in a bit late. Behind the band is a large, circular LED videoscreen showing either a feed of Wayne's face or music videos of songs as they are performed. The audience joins in immediately.
It is said that what Loser is to Beck, She Don't Use Jelly is to the Flaming Lips. The audience sings louder than Wayne at some points, knowing all the words by heart.
Steven begins singing "yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah"s and the crowd cheers. THE YEAH YEAH YEAH SONG. On the screen the words "yeah" and "no" appear in all different languages and alphabets. As Steven sings the whiny falsetto vocals that make up the bridge, he tugs on his throat to achieve an exaggerated vibrato (think almost like Tom Kenny as he laughs like Spongebob). With all your power, with all your power, with all your power . . . the song ends and Wayne points out to us that Steven is using his phone. "He's not texting, he's not checking his Twitter account, he's not making a phone call or whatever. He's actually going to use his phone to play the solos . . ." And he does. The band plays a strange new track, Is David Bowie Dying?, which they've done on an EP with Alan Palomo of Neon Indian.
After the weird new track is a sweet, quieter take on Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, Pt. I, almost like the band is playing to a lover or small daughter. Wayne sings through nearly the whole track on a smile as the crowd sings along. It's beginning to get dark. When the quiet Yoshimi comes to a close, the band dives into the mayhem of See the Leaves. Red light pours over the stage. Over the cutting guitar and drums, Wayne takes to a cymbal. LED screen shows the figure of a nude woman, any features obscured by bright red-and-green, oversaturated light; she's also playing the cymbal, crashing her baton upon it more acerbically than Wayne does. The juncture of her thighs is covered by a glittering star. During the climax of the song light pours out behind her as she dances, spinning round. The lights stretch out in concentric circles of different colours as she spins; Wayne has taken up his giant hands. Nighttime now. A reflecting ball hangs over him and it appears as though laser lights are coming from his hands, which he reflects towards the ball, and then outward at the audience. Song continues to build up; light explodes, fire and smoke pour out. The crowd is overjoyed. I cry.
(a very long take of) See the Leaves closes, images of animals' bared teeth and open mouths are shown on the screen. Bassline for another Embryonic favourite, THE EGO'S LAST STAND, begins. Guitar is like numerous professional quick cold knife slashes made by a trained killer. First mistook SIREN on megaphone as Wayne wailing! Image of a man's swollen, wide-open, impossibly green eye is up on the screen, invoking feelings of panic and mania. He looks desperate, afraid. Afraid of what? Wayne falls on his back and stands as though in triumph.
The song ends and everyone and everything calms down. It seems as though the tumult of the last song is quickly forgotten and eased away as Steven casually says, "This song goes out to anyone who's on Molly . . ." A beat and organ begin; the beginning of the truly fantastic Pompeii Am Götterdämmerung. Red lighting again. All you see are their silhouettes in the red, red light, and somehow it's befitting alongside all the layers and textures in the song. It could be raining on the screen. Steven sings, god nothing can be better than Steven Drozd singing, no matter what.
Idle, dark. The set might've ended but as the camera turns back from the cheering crowd to the stage it appears as though the Lips haven't left yet. crowd begins cheering "FLAMING LIPS" and then "ENCORE". I sincerely hope for one, as I'm hoping for a performance of Race for the Prize (or any Soft Bulletin song really) until two roadies arrive to pull away Kliph's drum set from centre stage. Then the crowd starts cheering, the lights come on and Wayne, sans scarf, jumps before them twice. a light briefly shines over the crowd who clearly want more . . . the woman reappears on the screen, figure now obscured by a galaxy. a planet glows yellow behind her. Wayne whispers something to a roadie. Who's that pumping up the audience onstage as a simple dirge plays from somewhere? he's not a band member. he has braids. the crowd, in unison, raises their arms in reaction to something as the image of an eye in all different lights appears flashing on the LED screen. WAYNE PREPARES HIS SPACE BUBBLE. Steven is back; Michael and Kliph appear on a ramp raised above Wayne and return to their instruments with a wave . . . they begin an instrumental piece. Wayne's bubble continues to inflate as he is inside it; Steven and Michael play continuous weaving riffs to Kliph's cymbals.
Wayne is jumping up in his ball. He rolls onto the crowd who are awaiting him. (This is my favourite part.) They pass him around and Wayne falls over a few times, laughing all the way as he greets them. His roll among the crowd is short; he returns to the stage quickly. The woman is playing the cymbal again as Wayne retreats to somewhere backstage. The Lips--sans Wayne--continue their instrumental with drum rolls and riffs until Wayne returns and they begin the truly chaotic Worm Mountain. Wayne plays the siren again. As he sings through the megaphone, it sends off sparks and smoke. Giant balloons have made their way around the show, tumbling along the stage and crowd. red white blue yellow pink green. Wayne bursts a large yellow one and is met in the face by confetti; he tumbles onto his back again before bringing his smoke-and-streamer pipe. Streamers are now stuck to the equipment and rafters and microphones as more confetti falls around them. Steven pulls off the organ outro with aplomb as more concentric circles of colour stretch out again on the screen behind them.
Then, total darkness. When the lights come on again the crowd chants "ONE MORE SONG", but I think that it is truly over. No Race for the Prize, no Soft Bulletin. Another roadie appears and the lights flash along with his movements of getting the audience pumped. The Lips reappear, clapping their hands and returning to their instruments once more. Wayne outfits himself with an electric guitar. "Thank you guys thank you thank you thank you we love you. We're gonna do one more song. We wish we could stay here tonight . . ."
Wayne plays two notes and instantly we know that it is The Observer. He hardly plays the first two phrases when a steady drum beat begins and my heart picks up. "WHAT IS THE LIGHT," I yell out. INDEED. Wayne's voice is characteristically shaky and a bit weak, yet wholly powerful. They will give me my Soft Bulletin after all.
"SHINING / ALL / AROUND / YOU", the screen says, amid stars that race the horizon point. "'Love is the place that you're drawn to' . . . It's right here," Wayne says to the crowd. The stars pool and meet into the words, "WHAT / IS / THE / LIGHT" . . .
Wayne begins The Observer again while Steven appears to be encouraging him. The tempo does not change; we are still moving to the steady metronome that is Kliph's steady, single beating upon a drum pad. Steven's accompanying keyboard is light, like glass. The audience is quiet and remains loyal as ever, faithfully hanging on to the music. Their energy is unbelievable.
The number closes, the set ends for sure and for the life of me I can't make out what Wayne says.
It's now 11:08:41 pm and I'm still riding off the high of being able to catch this livestream. Among the streams I have watched, I've managed to miss about the same number. The show was everything I heard a Lips show was going to be, and so much more. I have to wonder if that wave of emotion I felt would be amplified if I actually attended a show, in the flesh, with all that colour and music and energy around me.
WHEW, I am bushed, sorry for sounding cheesy, SNL soon! goodnight bye