In a Priest Driven Ambulance is an impressive return to form, with stronger material, committed performances and imaginative production - in short, all the fun and intensity missing from Telepathic Surgery. The 2005 vinyl reissue of Telepathic Surgery restores the track to its full-length glory, devoting all of Side Three to it.) (That last track appears in a drastically shortened edit in the box set Finally the Punk Rockers Are Taking Acid.
FLAMING LIPS SOFT BULLETIN OUTTAKES CRACKER
Curiously, Telepathic Surgery‘s most exciting numbers (not counting a two-and-a-half minute monologue on UFOs) are the two CD bonus tracks: the frantic “Fryin’ Up” and “Hell’s Angel’s Cracker Factory,” a mind-melting 23-minute jam that would do Hawkwind proud. Rather than attempting to reconcile their disparate components into a cohesive style, the Lips stick mainly to a straightforward rockish approach that only serves to make them sound more like everybody else. Telepathic Surgery is a competent but uninspired time-filler, lacking the manic unpredictability that made its predecessors special. Odes to paranoia (“Everything’s Explodin'”), unselfconsciously anachronistic Pink Floydisms (“One Million Billionth of a Millisecond on a Sunday Morning”) and moments of genuine sensitivity (“Love Yer Brain”), allow Oh My Gawd!!! to transcend the Lips’ wacky-cult-band image, marking them as one of the American heartland’s brightest - if least likely - new hopes. The inventively self-produced Oh My Gawd!!! is a surprisingly mature and confident work, with more consistent material and performances.
( Hear It Is also was reissued on vinyl in 2005.) The CD release on Pink Dust collects the contents of the first two records, adding a version of “Summertime Blues” that’s considerably closer to Blue Cheer than Eddie Cochran. While affectionately borrowing riffs here and there, the Lips (now a trio, with Coyne inheriting vocal duties from his brother Mark, who left the band) show real originality, balancing the rockin’ grunge of “With You” and “Jesus Shootin’ Heroin” with softer acoustic passages. Hear It Is fulfills some of that promise. Loud, wild and funny, the Flaming Lips play in the same pen of cartoon-psychedelia imagery used by others, but these disenfranchised Oklahomans, led by songwriter/guitarist/singer Wayne Coyne, possess wit and ingenuity most of the acid-addled competition lacks.įrom its uniquely disgusting front cover to the brilliant alienation anthem “My Own Planet,” The Flaming Lips (originally issued on a label whose acronym is LSD) shows considerably more promise than just about anything else in the college-radio underground’s drooling- garage-thrash brigade.
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