About a year ago, the Flaming Lips divulged the double CD Embryonic (usually Echoes of Pink Floyd), with a cover coated with fur. A simulated birth, therefore certainly not human, maybe a few mythological animal experimental, maybe just a mind overstated.
Rough aesthetic but apparently less affected previous works, but tedious at times, the disc is a hiccup on the edge of reality made by a monkey launched into space.
include pictures of Jap girls in synthesis and Steve Hackett that emerges in the vocals (as usual clumsy) there is also an echo Tomita making the Planets by Holst, to give a hallucinatory journey into the cosmos (inner?), including signs of the zodiac (the stars that horror in the shape of a scorpion, or Sagittarius! someone finally puts its finger on those threats that dominate us! How to weigh the virgin and the enormous scale, total heavy and terrible symbol above!).
The result, as all the peels, it's hard. The sound of a metal wall, a watermark diaphanous melody, rhythm beats desperately electrified.
I would argue that evil is the devil in the details in the apparent striking monotone, that is, they usually hide the bad trip ideas dry (And being too smart with this thought of the FL is also allowed). But the good they know the sincerity of most of the times is misunderstood.
As evidence of good faith of the ensemble are unattractive, the martial gait and obnoxious, the cyclical nature of obsessive themes and musical figures, the compact tissue (almost spongy), and a host of references pathetic ear test. This small
Space Odyssey takes place in the final of the works pretty decent, but flawed, slightly self-iconoclastic and then cold, but pleasant, like a frost in early morning, with beautiful leaves ice on the windows, those Sorry we wash away with warm water and wipe with the forced departure - when we would be glad to turn around in space instead of the car and go to work.
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