Review Summary: For those who have followed the Lips through more than one iteration of their sound, or at least have taken the effort to discover the diversity of their creative palette, Embryonic is faith-rewarding and massively essential.
Review based on stream:
http://monsterfresh.com/2009/09/26/embryonic-flaming-lips-full-album-stream-mp3/
Half the battle of any Flaming Lips album is putting it into proper context, especially because their sound has been purposefully and carefully mutated with each subsequent release. But with regards to that mutating sound, the Lips are more prone to taking incremental steps of refinement as opposed to giant leaps of madness, and their discography is great evidence of this. In a Priest Driven Ambulance set the stage for Hit to Death in the Future Head, just as Clouds Taste Metallic expanded upon and refined to glowing perfection what had been hinted at with Transmissions From the Satellite Heart. Played chronologically, back-to-back, these albums bleed into each other and help make sense of the Lips' fascinating musical trajectory, but not since Zaireeka have they released something as uncharacteristic and truly out of left field as their schizophrenic 2009 double album, Embryonic.
The 2000s have been a very transformational and fortuitous time for the Lips, and it says a great deal about the visionary genius of their ambition that the groundwork for their success had been laid in 1999--before anyone had a clearly conceptualized sense of where the culturally ubiquitous technological encroachment of the new millennium would lead us. Looking back, though, The Soft Bulletin is not the earth-shattering phenomenon it was hyped to be, but an album that logically expanded on the technological fascination of Zaireeka while incorporating more structured elements of pop and lyrical revelation. By the time the Lips released 2003's Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, the scene around them had seemingly caught up, and it was becoming more and more obvious just how refreshingly, honestly anachronistic the band had always been. For several reasons worth noting, the culture around the band had changed in such a way that allowed for their commercial success to occur, especially considering that they'd been critical darlings since at least Transmissions From the Satellite Heart.
It seems strange to say, but the events of September 11, 2001 were crucial for the Lips. Most importantly, it was the true starting point of the anti-Bush fever pitch that affected so much about music in the American 2000s. Coupled with the introduction of the mp3 player as the dominant form of music media and the fact that a vast majority of the country's youth were now discovering bands via the internet and blogosphere as opposed to radio and television (that is, proactively discovering music as opposed to passively listening), it makes perfect sense why the Lips came into such commercial acclaim. In the age of musical irony (oppressively and enduringly contextualized by the overall dismal political atmosphere of Bush's anti-intellectualism and anti-internationalism), a time when dance had returned as both rebellious and subversive, there was the Lips--a band that was actually, genuinely having a good time.
But things change quickly. The landslide election of Barck Obama has all at once reflexively balanced and quite desperately unhinged the ironic, cynical-yet-hopeful validity of dance rock and much of the general mood of this very tumultuous, warring decade. The result is that 2009 feels decidedly different than the years leading up to it--the public can no longer rationally rally against the lightning rod that was George Bush (something the Lips themselves took part in with 2006's At War With the Mystics, specifically on "Haven't Got a Clue"), yet the mandate for change represented by the election of Obama has left nearly everyone scratching their heads, wondering and even fearing whatever may come next.
Much of this mood permeates Embryonic, right down to its core compositional philosophy. Perhaps what is most shockingly unique about the album is the overall lack of anything resembling a pop structure. Many of its best songs are short, unconstructed, dissonant, weightless, utterly without hooks, and tinged with sad reality. Wayne Coyne has just about completely shied away from his self-created pied piper image and life-affirming universality this time around. His voice intones an honest weariness that is simply not present on any other Lips album. Simultaneously, he maintains a ceaseless lyrical theme of empirical potentiality resting ever-so-delicately upon the fault line of human decision, effectively ending the participatory good-time freak-out that served as their calling card for the entirety of the 2000s.
Embryonic is neither friendly nor inviting, but a tad austere on the personal and emotional level. Originally planned as a double album consisting of eighteen tracks, it should also serve as somewhat of a difficult listen for anyone unfamiliar with the recently once-forgotten noisier aspects of the band. The pre-released opening track, "Convinced of the Hex," is emblematic of at least one half of Embryonic's dual musical atmosphere, which oscillates organically between noisy jam session and spacey quietude. "Convinced" adequately represents the former, itself coming into shape out of obnoxiously underproduced guitars and the minimalist hammer-on bass lines that repeat throughout the entire album--occasionally marring it into purposeless murk (such as on the overall great "Powerless," which ends the first half of the album, and on the overall droning-yet-loud/quiet nothingness of "Ego's Last Stand," which begins the second half).
The spaced-out synth introversion that represents the adjacent dimension of Embryonic's overall mood begins and peaks with its third track, "Evil." But this is only so because "Evil" feels more like a fully realized vision rather than inconsequential segue. One essential track, the all-too-brief "IF," very masterfully presents Embryonic's most enduring message, and does so with a delicate sensuality that is lacking for the remainder of the album. With little more than a cheap melody, Coyne reveals his primary vision, crooning "people are evil, it's true / but on the other side / they can be gentle too / if they decide." This theme of personal responsibility and the enormous power, not only of human decision but also of disciplined perception, is reiterated virtually everywhere there is a lyric to be found.
Meanwhile, "See the Leaves" and "Worm Mountain" compete for the title of overall heaviest track. The former is sneering and ploddingly mechanical while the latter ultimately emerges victorious due to its sheer, elated dynamism. And although Embryonic is a double album in the truest sense, representing one band from competing and complementary musical vantage points, there are a handful of tracks that manage deft cohesion, and this is where the album shines most brilliantly. "Your Bats" is the finest example of this, managing to be hazy but loud, warm but confrontational, and painfully engrossing but short and unrefined. "Silver Trembling Hands" is another standout, achieving the explosive largeness of a more inclusive, pop oriented Lips song without ever actually becoming one.
Had Embryonic been released at literally any other stage in this band's erratically experimental career, it may have been considered a misstep--a branching-out into the abandonment of the Lips' most endearing qualities. But, again, it helps enormously to consider the context under which this album was delivered. Had they simply produced another variation on The Soft Bulletin, as was their m.o. in the 2000s, it would have seemed contrived and, undoubtedly, their status as pioneers would have weakened tremendously. Instead, for better or for worse, the Flaming Lips have respectfully moved on and into rather unmarked territory, maintaining their credibility and possibly attempting to predate the steady emergence of an interwoven and unprecedented noise scene that is sure to manifest over the next decade.
Embryonic will ultimately draw the most comparisons to Zaireeka, although these two albums sound and feel nothing like each other. The idea behind the comparison is that both of these albums capture the Lips at a time where their confidence had waned and they were once again faced with the bane of reinvention, something they have always confronted with persistence and immense, enthralling creativity. Zaireeka is the better album, more creative and maddeningly original, but Embryonic is nevertheless a smoldering sore-thumb in the discography of a band that is fortunate enough to be able to continually create, refine, and discard whatever musical identity it whimsically materializes. It's hard to imagine that this album specifically will translate into any further commercial success for the band, but for those who have followed the Lips through more than one iteration of their sound, or at least have taken the effort to discover the diversity of their creative palette, Embryonic is faith-rewarding and massively essential.
