E-MAIL ARCHIVES

Sunday, October 20, 2002 -- 07:02 p.m.

So. Beck. The Flaming Lips. Minneapolis. The Orpheum. Thursday.

Holy damn.

I get there at about sevenish and wander my way in - I've never caught a show of any kind whatsoever at the Orpheum and I am dazzled at its late early 20th century ambience. I get there just in time to hear the Flaming Lips do their soundcheck, and though the ushers kept the doors closed for a while, eventually they were opened to much jubilation from both the crowd and from Wayne Coyne himself. Wayne capered about in this dirty-white-colored suit and looked like an odd cross between '70s Dylan and Dennis Miller, and if you're wondering, the same thing holds true to him as it does to Geddy Lee (cf. Pavement's "Stereo"): he does in fact have a normal-sounding speaking voice. We got to hear them run through "Fight Test" a couple times and get all the levels figured out (or so they thought -- more on that later) before they played a pre-show video of Wayne interviewing none other than Brian Wilson. It wasn't a particularly long video but we did get a bit of insight as to Brian's feelings about pre-show jitters. He also said "fuck" a couple times, which caught me a bit off guard. (Gasp! A Beach Boy dropped an f-bomb!) It's pretty odd they played it, considering a few minutes earlier I was mulling in my head whether or not the Lips were quite possibly the current heirs to the overall '60s orchestral psych-pop of Pet Sounds (answer: sure, why not?). I leaned back in my seat -- main floor, right of center, about fifteen rows back -- and the show started.
I should probably make an inventory of all the things the Flaming Lips had onstage:
-Four (4) oversized stationary mirror balls, placed in a line midstage.
-Amps. Not just your ordinary amps, either -- these ones were painted in Fisher-Price-colored yellow and pink and green.
-About a dozen people in each wing of the stage, all wearing goofy animal costumes (no penguins, though).
-Many large "my car has broken down in the middle of nowhere and it's 11 PM, go look in the trunk" flashlights, waved by aforementioned animal-suit people, often directly into the audience's eyes
-Big huge gigantic balloons, tossed around by the crowd like beach balls. (Number of times I got clocked unexpectedly by one: two.)
-Confetti, confetti, confetti
-A portable smoke machine, wielded by Wayne like a character from Contra toting a flamethrower. It should be noted that he hit the drummer point blank at least three times and said drummer didn't miss a beat. That's talent. The smoke also made the theater smell kind of funny -- no, I am not talking about that kind of funny-smelling smoke; this stuff smelled like 2000 Flushes and half-dead roses.
-The aforementioned video screen, which showed clips of Cool Hand Luke during "Fight Test", Battle Royale during "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, pt. 1", and the Teletubbies during "A Spoonful Weighs A Ton". There was also a nasty throbbing fetus-looking thing on for "30,000 Feet of Despair", and I can think of many things I'd rather watch during a concert than that.
So the Lips tore things up for about 45 minutes, mostly sticking to the stuff from their last two albums with the requisite nod to "She Don't Use Jelly" (which, I have since decided, is probably the weakest single in their repetoire -- sadly it's the most well-known, too). Wayne was Mr. Enthusiasm throughout, pumping his fist as if he was paid by the gesticulation, and while it was kinda fun to watch him be in Happy Excited Tour Kickoff Mode, it sort of killed the vibe of, say, "Do You Realize?" ("everyone you know... someday... will die" [raises arms, crowd cheers]). Then they finished their set and cleared off the stage, leaving everyone to occupy themselves with the oversized balloons, volleying them all over the place and cheering madly whenever someone made a save from one going off the balcony. Unfortunately, this was all the entertainment this crowd had to contend with for nearly an hour -- either Beck got lost on his way from the airport or he was freaking out backstage and needed to get a pep talk or something, 'cos it took him ages to finally make his way out. And he started out the same deal he did in August at the Fitzgerald: one man with a guitar and a microphone and a stool. His set, with comments:
"Cold Brains": Sounds completely butt naked with just him and a guitar. I like it far more with the full backing replete with underwater pianos and Satanically Majestic sound effects, which underscore and bolster his voice. Without that accompaniment it loses a lot of its gorgeous qualities.
"One Foot In The Grave": A welcome Stereopathetic Soulmanure nugget, the first of two for the night (the other, no matter how many drunken oafs whined a'la "Freebird!", was not "Satan Gave Me A Taco"). Unfortunately, he tinkered with the lyrics and drained it of a lot of its affable goofiness, replacing the "he called my name as I turned up the flames/and then I realized I was out of mayonnaise" line with something else I can't be bothered to remember. (Apparently it's "He said, what you got? / I said, not much / He said, you're always gonna look / You're never gonna touch". Thanks to Let the Doctor Rock You). He did bust out with the crazy harmonica coda, though.
"Lonesome Whistle": So if you'd told Joe Rockcrit sometime in 1994 that in eight years Beck would be playing faithful and wonderfully-sung Hank Williams covers to packed theater crowds he'd be all "Oh you're crazy. Now let me get back to listening to Freedy Johnston." Anyhow, this was nice.
"Asshole": AKA the least likely Tom Petty cover ever. It's interesting to hear this bitter spurned love song in the context of the whole Sea Change/breakup ordeal from this year, and while it sounded kind of sad but also a bit giggly on album, here and now it sounded like the laments of a wounded man.
"Sunday Morning": He had a vocoder hooked up to a keyboard, much to the delight of everyone, and he tested it out by completely bastardizing the Velvet Underground for a minute or so. I couldn't even recognize it and had to find out what it was from an online message board. I was pretty geeked to see he brought the vocoder along, though, since that meant there was a high likelihood of "Get Real Paid" being performed.
"Rowboat": The other Soulmanure track, and a personal favorite. It was at about this moment that I wished Smokey Hormel came along for the ride, since his steel guitar playing was a highlight of the St. Paul acoustic show. I think Beck may have flubbed a lyric, and it's about here where I started to wonder if he'd gone a bit tired.
"The Golden Age": The First Sea Change song of the night, and a pleasant surprise: I'd become enamored with the way this song sounded on the album and was disappointed that it was going to be performed acoustically. But then, right after the first chorus, the lights at the back of the stage came on and TA-DA, there were the Flaming Lips joining in. It was a huge crowd-pleaser moment, and when they picked up the rest of the song with full instrumentation it sounded astounding. If there were any missteps, I didn't hear them.
"Lord Only Knows": The most unfortunate technical glitch of the evening, as Beck goes into a presumably sick-ass guitar solo that almost nobody can hear. It looked pretty cool, though. One of the early high points, energy-wise, and a great performance of one of my favorite Odelay tracks.
"Paper Tiger": Easily the best song on Sea Change, this came off as a surprising highlight given the lack of a string section (made up for by a decent ringer from one of the many onstage keyboards). "Lost Cause": Surprise of the night, as one of the least remarkable songs on Sea Change goes double-time and transmogrifies into something that resembles the more uptempo offerings on the Velvet Underground's Loaded. I have to find a bootleg of this, preferably right this second.
"Little One": Beck's "Ruby Tuesday", played as hauntingly as it came off on record. Probably my second-favorite song on Sea Change and one of the moments where the lyrics actually sound like a Beck song and not Beck mumbling cliches (nicely strung-together and well-sung cliches, but cliches nonetheless).
"Already Dead": I think this is one of the tracks I always skip over. I probably spaced out and stared at the lights during this one or something.
"Jackass": A nice segue into a brief moment of fun, since this one starts out all mellow and Dylan-ish (not a preposterous comparison if you factor in the influence of "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue" on this song, sampled and otherwise) and melts into a big clanking guitar spaz-fit. Wayne seemed lost for most of this show -- playing guitar every so often and pumping his fists more than possibly necessary -- but he had a fun time screwing around with Beck's guitar strings during the solo.
"Get Real Paid": Yes, that's right -- in 1999 Beck was three years ahead of the electroclash curve! Take that, Peaches! Neener neener neener, Fischerspooner! Poo poo on you, Ladytro- no, wait, I like Ladytron. Anyhow, this song had all it needed to be awesome, namely (a) Beck singing through the Vocoder and (b) Beck doing the MOTHER OF ALL ROBOT DANCES. Ralf Hutter would be all "damn yo" watching it, it was that good. "Nobody's Fault But My Own": Same as the St. Paul show: Beck solo with an accordion/recorder/somethingorother. It loses a little of its impact the second time around, but it's still haunting.
"Pay No Mind": HELL YES. Finally Mellow Gold gets represented, and a bit of odd little keyboard psychedelia is tossed in during the chorus, which twerks the dynamic of the song a bit. Another guitar-and-drums original that sounded a lot more meaty with a full band playing it.
"Lonesome Tears", "It's All In Your Mind", "We Live Again": More of the same, actually. It was about this time that I was hoping they'd step up the action a bit and bring back some fun. I would've killed to hear "Diamond Bollocks" done by this lineup, but alas it was not to be.
"Tropicalia": I kind of liked it a little more during the acoustic set, where he had the unmitigated audacity to use a cheesy drum machine beat for the rhythm and actually made it work. Here it was simply a good rendition of a great song, and Beck and Wayne doing a sort of pseudo-tango dance off the stage and up the aisle was more of a highlight than the music was.
"The New Pollution": I'm going to come right out and say that if I had to sell or delete all my recorded Beck material save for one song, this would be it. It's his greatest moment, in my opinion, simultaneously acting as bizarre dusty collage Frankensteinery and bouncy pop magnificence. It was easily done justice here, especially thanks to the Lips' unfazeable drummer hammering out the Tomorrow Never Knows beats.
Encore #1: "Devil's Haircut": Beck comes back out in a glow-in-the-dark striped jumpsuit and MY GOD THIS RULES. Lots of bizarre iconography and footage of old-school wrestling plays on the screen, Beck leaps about, everyone's happy. He doesn't yell the last lines, unfortunately, which makes it seem a bit anticlimactic, but it's a minor letdown and an understandable one given that his throat probably feels like hamburger at this point.
"Where It's At": You'd think he'd be tired of this song, but no. Hey, I'm not either, and I was hoping he'd play this so the show would feel a bit more complete. Unfortunately a couple lines of "Debra" talk-sung offhandedly was the closest we'd get to hearing that song. Anyhow, this was a big sloppy rave-up and it would've made a great closer. But...
"Round The Bend": A gorgeous song, but sort of a downer to close. I'm not sure if they bowed the guitar on this one or not.
Between the hyperactivity of the opening Flaming Lips set and the slightly shaky but still thoroughly enjoyable Beck segment, it was one of the best live shows I've ever been to, rubbing elbows with the Money Mark/Tribe Called Quest/Beastie Boys show I saw at the Target Center in the summer of '98. If anyone's managed to record this show -- and I wouldn't be surprised, since it was the first stop in a landmark tour -- please lemme know, OK?

-Nate

Saturday, October 19, 2002 -- 09:58 p.m.

People seem to be coming to this site looking for reviews of the Minneapolis Beck/Flaming Lips show. Fear not, one is upcoming. Yeah yeah I know it was Thursday but I had work and errands and stuff for these last few days.

One of these errands was going grocery shopping. You know what played on the in-store grocery ambience music p.a. system? Depeche Mode's "Enjoy the Silence". This is the same St. Paul grocery store where I heard Van Halen's "Dance the Night Away" a few months ago. I'm not talking about Muzak, either, I mean the original versions. What the hell is going on here?

OMG White Stripes on SNL! TV time. Later.

-Nate

Wednesday, October 16, 2002 -- 06:51 p.m.

They're bitter, they're smart-arsed, they're TMFTML, and they gave this site a quick plug so I feel obligated to return the favor (as if I didn't read them on a near-daily basis anyways). Of course, "they" might be just one guy, but we all make assumptions like that every once in a while.

The first show of the Beck-Flaming Lips tour is tomorrow in Minneapolis, and I'm gonna go there and get my damn head blown off by post-mod-psych nerd pop. Then I will hopefully give a synopsis of said show on Friday evening, though I said that about Clinic and oops.

-Nate

Wednesday, October 16, 2002 -- 06:08 a.m.

My City Pages review of the new Amon Tobin album is up. I'm not hugely enthused with it - Melissa Maerz's Beck review and Matos' writeup of the Streets in the same issue do a much better job of capturing the spirit of their respective albums (though a higher wordcount may be a factor), and for some reason the last line got changed between my final draft and press time (it was supposed to state that listeners got a fear of heights, not Tobin), but other than that, hey, it's there.

-Nate

Tuesday, October 15, 2002 -- 08:02 p.m.

Uh. Well, the Clinic show was great. I've also got a City Pages article going to print tomorrow. Other than that, this is a "hey I'm not dead okay stop throwing rocks at me" update. Boring, I know. To make up for this, here's a page detailing what happened to that mall the Blues Brothers drove through. Also, SSCB has my coulda-been-bigger review of Royksopp's Melody A.M..

-Nate

Thursday, October 10, 2002 -- 08:15 p.m.

The combination of a new job and not much insight into recent music news (or lack thereof) can prove fatal, as you can tell. But I'll think of something to write about this weekend, maybe -- like the Clinic show I'm going to tomorrow night. Ten bucks can buy you a chance to watch Liverpudlians in surgical garb bring Farfisa destruction so how can I resist? Apples In Stereo open, and while I only know a couple of their songs ("Look Away" and "The Rainbow") I liked 'em fine, seeing as how they're all hippie-dip pop fun. So yay for that! Plus the show starts at six so I won't be stumbling around downtown Mpls. at 1 in the morning frantically searching for a bus.

-Nate

Monday, October 7, 2002 -- 05:52 p.m.

Now if they could only nab Greil Marcus for committing the same crime in a critical sense. Har har! OK, sorry, that was cruel.

-Nate

Monday, October 7, 2002 -- 05:25 p.m.

Somebody had the odd idea to compile a Conservative Top 40. Not to make any across-the-board judgements on those of a political affiliation not my own, but... my god, these songs are lame. I'll give 'em James Brown, Chuck Berry and the odd British Invasion act, but other than that it's a wasteland of musical crap. I also fail to see how "I Fought the Law" is ostensibly a "conservative" song, seeing as how pointing out that the law won is supposed to signify an unfortunate event in the narrative of a supposedly sympathetic character. (Moreso when done by the Sandinista-lovin' Clash.)

-Nate