Category: Reviews
REVIEW: “Palm Reader” by Sonny and the Sunsets
Sonny and the Sunsets’ follow-up to Longtime Companion is entitled Antenna to the Afterworld, and like many indie artists to go before them, Sonny Smith and his band are ripe to tackle death and its aftermath. The band suffered the loss of a close friend, and that tragic experience has led them produce songs like “Palm Reader,” a light ditty about reading palms and impending death. The production on this song is top-notch with its sharp, analog synths and country-western electric guitars. The song kicks off with the low-register twang of the main guitar riff, and that riff continues for the majority of the song. Smith’s vocal track is the only component that really misses the mark in the song, with such bland lines as “Every year, they say the end is near/ But we’re still here.” His voice is too jarring amidst the warmth of the instrumental tracks, and his lyrics rest awkwardly between the quirk of Syd Barret and the heart of Phosphorescent. The song is whimsical and is not meant to erupt at any point, but it never seems to find its way.
7/10
REVIEW: Lemuria’s “Oahu, Hawaii”
Buffalo, New York’s own Lemuria is dropping their newest album The Distance Is So Big on June 18th, but prefacing that date, they have decided to release a few sneak-peaks from the album- the most recent being “Oahu, Hawaii”. Upon pressing play, I noticed Lemuria had strayed from the norm in certain aspects, but in other respects you still find the deadline Lemuria traits, such as the dramatic 15-second build to really get you amped on what your ears are in for. Alex Kerns takes on the lyrical lead for the song but is quickly met with Sheena’s bubblegum melodies.
In a recent interview [Vinyl Mag] conducted with Lemuria, Sheena spoke of Alex as a “man of many words”- this song being no different. That concept alone, paired with strategic lyrical repetition, make for the basis of almost the entire song. If you were already a fan though, the magnitude of their simplicity is probably something you’ve already come to love. As far as the intensity goes, “Oahu, Hawaii” tends to ricochet back in forth between about a 3 and 5- but don’t be fooled, these guys definitely have it in them (and will probably release that energy elsewhere in the album). It’s clear, though, that this song in particular holds a lot of meaning to the members, having named the album from a direct lyric in this song. Have a listen for yourself here, and be sure to check out the new album when it drops.
REVIEW: September Call-Up’s Air And My Sleep
Christian Bitto, singer of the September Call-Up, is a lot like Leonardo da Vinci. How, you might ask? Quite simply, Bitto is a Renaissance Man of vocals, a jack-of-all-moods, you might say. From first track to last on his album with drummer Jesse Gimbel, Air And My Sleep, Bitto switches constantly and effortlessly from a soft, near whisper to a powerful shout, before retreating back into a passionate warble. Such a truly textural range is the focal point of this otherwise very calm, smooth indie record.
Its first track, “Negative Film”, is exemplary of the EP’s depth. As Bitto utters, “Gave you my word, it wasn’t worth a spit. Gave you a kiss, it tasted like shit,” the song has a very Ryan Adams, alt-country feel to it. Before you can even process that comparison, though, Bitto becomes a 2013 version of Michael Stipe, his voice loud and all-consuming through the chorus.
“Our First Fall” is a song everyone needs at some point in his or her life, for a lonely, heartbroken kind of night. Bitto’s cloud-soft voice paired with very angry, tearful lyrics sweeps you into a storm of emotions you can relate to. “Song No. 3” is probably our favorite on the EP, and is equally heart wrenching. Comparing Bitto’s vocals to that of Conor Oberst is inevitable, and only makes the track tug at your chest more.
Toward the end of the album, a sense of nostalgia begins to emerge, especially on “Burnt Orange”, a very pretty track about love come and gone. “Ghost” is a surprisingly upbeat tune instrumentally, raising the tempo of the album before a pleasant crash into Air’s final track, “9”. The September Call-Up couldn’t have chosen a more perfect track to conclude their album – it’s sensitive, dreamy, and thought provoking. And after listening to the record, you see that the duo’s intention, all along, was to get listeners thinking. Job well done.
Air And My Sleep is due out June 25 through Wissahickon Records.
REVIEW: Valaska’s Natural Habitat
With the warm, lazy summer months ahead, what could be better than a pensive indie album with fantastic acoustic instrumentals? Enter Valaska’s new album, Natural Habitat. The brain-child of Chicago native Dave Valdez, this record will uplift you with its often cheery acoustic guitar, then force you into a state of reflection with its unabashedly meaningful lyrics.
Produced by Copeland frontman Aaron Marsh, the album is clearly the result of much introspection and a complete turnaround in musical style – Natural Habitat is far more raw and thought-provoking than Valdez’s 2010 EP. Also notable is how influenced Valdez obviously is by acts as diverse as Elliott Smith, Bright Eyes, Iron & Wine, and Of Monsters and Men. This mash-up, whether Valdez is conscious of it or not, gives the listener a positively chilling indie experience.
The Elliott influence is apparent – and incredibly poignant – from the first track, “On the Surface”. Vocal layering and an emotional acoustic guitar pave the way for the song’s insightful take on man’s tendency to only scratch the surface of things. The record ironically picks up a bit with “Spanish Needles”, a tune entirely about the inevitability of death. Another favorite is “Golden Age”, a track that reveals Valdez’s experience touring with pop rock bands for a large chunk of his life – it’s undeniably catchy, even sweet, whisking us away to a different time and place.
By “Wildfire”, we’re hooked. The song presents a situation that everyone is familiar with: the promising nature of a fresh relationship, but also the care involved in seeing someone new. The title track, toward the end of the album, provides a comprehensive summary of Natural Habitat and Valdez’s new musical direction. It’s all about being alone, thinking everything through, and the array of emotions that coincide with that experience. Raw and whimsical, the track helps to wrap up the album in a beautiful little bow.
SHOW REVIEW: Crystal Castles at the Tabernacle
A threesome of musicians swarmed the Tabernacle stage, awash in black, taking their places before a massive, eerie depiction of a cloaked figure embracing a naked human form. The waifish, platinum blonde front woman, Alice Glass, took a drag from her cigarette as the heavy beats reverberated around the room.
Crystal Castles provided an incredibly contradictory show in the best way on April 17. Though Glass and crew entered the stage to a near riot – the audience had waited over an hour for Crystal Castles to come on – the stall proved to be entirely worth it. Opening with “Plague”, the first track off their new album, (III), it was quickly clear that this set would be all about digital, electric glamour with a wash of old-school punk ideals.
Soon enough, the trio – consisting of founding members Glass and producer Ethan Kath, and touring drummer Christopher Chartrand – dove into tunes from their previous album, including “Baptism” and “Suffocation”. This is when things became truly rock ‘n roll. Between Kath’s impressive electronic instrumentals and Chartrand’s mind-blowing drum solos, Glass struggled to pull away from a security guard and crowd surf several times, and even began taking massive swigs of whiskey and spitting it over audience members.
We were most thrilled when we heard the first few beats of some of our old Crystal Castles favorites: “Crimewave”, “Alice Practice”, and a portion of “Vanished”, to name a few. By this point, Glass knew she held the crowd in the palm of her hand. She stood before thousands of energized fans, slugging from that same bottle of whiskey and twirling the microphone in her hand, as if teasing us to beg for more.
And “more” is what we got: among the trio’s encore songs was “Not in Love”, their undeniably catchy cover featuring Robert Smith. While we danced nonstop for the last minutes of the show, we couldn’t help but think how in love we were with Crystal Castles’ live performance.
SHOW REVIEW: 2013 NCAA Big Dance Concert Series
The NCAA came to Atlanta last weekend and in addition to basketball fanatics a like, the sporting event brought with it The Big Dance concert series. High profile and sought after artists such as Muse, Dave Matthews Band, and Sting headlined the Saturday and Sunday shows in Centennial Olympic Park.
Saturday’s Coke Zero Countdown show kicked off that afternoon with the Athens’ favorite Yacht Rock Revue. Following our favorite ‘70s tribute band, was Macklemore & Ryan Lewis. In addition to making thrift stores popular as ever, Macklemore & Ryan Lewis proved their worthiness in the music spotlight not just by singing about poppin’ tags. The duo started us off with their song “Ten Thousand Hours” later followed by Macklemore (aka Ben Haggerty) draped in his now famous fur coat enthralling the audience with their chart topping hit “Thrift Shop.” That afternoon the crowd was also treated to the fan favorite “Same Love” and the recent hit single “Can’t Hold Us.”
In his hometown glory, Ludacris took the stage after Macklemore and Ryan Lewis. His charisma was the highlight of his performance (as if you have seen Ludacris perform before, you’ve seen it all) before. If his set at the Coke Zero Countdown happened your first time seeing Luda in action, it was a memorable performance as he broke out all the old favorites such as “Welcome to Atlanta,” “Act A Fool,” “Money Maker,” and “Roll Out”. Flo-Rida’s set followed.
The most anticipated act of the evening was of course the infamous MUSE. No surprise that they were headliners due to the NCAA using their chart topping hit “Madness” as the theme for this year’s March Madness. Although they gave us this single early on in their set, they were able to jam pack what seemed to be any song everyone hoped to hear from them into their hour long performance. Their stage presence was electric, captivating, and powerful. So powerful in fact that during “Follow Me” they blew the power (or perhaps just the mix board generator lost power). Following the 20 minutes of silence they continued on and Saturday in Centennial Park ended on a high and ever memorable note.
Sunday was the last day of the music festival and an early arrival to the park proved to be crucial in order to see the headliner of the Capital One Jamfest Dave Matthews Band. Before the park hit its limit of the 30,000 capacity and a small riot outside the park ensued later that day, Blind Pilot started the concert early that day followed by the ever loved Grace Potter & The Nocturnals. In her staple sparkling ensemble and spunky stage attitude she enchanted the audience with her ballads of “Stars” and my personal all time favorite “Apologies,” and then amped up the energy with the sounds of her single “Paris” and “Medicine.”
Sting took the stage next mixing in some Police favorites along with some of his top hits. He opened his set with “If I Ever Lose My Faith in You” and then into “Demolition Man.” A Few songs later the audience was singing a long with “Fields of Gold,” “Message in a Bottle,” and “De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da.” He closed out his set with “Roxanne” and soon encored with favorites of “Desert Rose” and “Every Breath You Take.”
Dave Matthews Band closed out the music festival and they did so with an energy that reminded me of their Central Park show in 2003. The Jamfest show from last weekend was reminiscent of this throwback due to both shows having the same opener “Don’t Drink the Water,” or perhaps DMB is just as good as they ever were. Their set was an all night jam fest that included crowd favorites of “Crush,” “Jimi Thing,” “Mercy,” and the ever loved “#41”. DMB brought the pure heat with their encore of “Two Step.” Whether you were in the front row or standing outside on the sidewalk after being shut out, anyone in the area of Centennial Park that night heard something special, and I couldn’t think of any better way to end this music, and basketball, filled weekend.
REVIEW: Deadstring Brothers’ Cannery Row
Close your eyes and envision this: members from Ryan Adams’ The Cardinals, Willie Nelson’s band, Whitey Morgan and the 78s, and Poco get together to make an album. You’re probably drooling by now, right? Now, open your eyes, grab your keys, and go out and buy Deadstring Brothers’ newest album, Cannery Row. You’re welcome.
From the very first track, “Like A California Wildfire”, frontman Kurt Marschke’s voice paired with some very alt-country instrumentals draw undeniable comparisons to the Rolling Stones circa Exile On Main Street. Yeah, heavy compliment, but this is one group that’s earned it – by the time you get to the album’s title track, you’re hooked. “Cannery Row” is a slow, mournful tune that reveals Ryan Adams backbone whilst keeping a very “Wild Horses”, Rolling Stones sound. The female vocals really make this track pop, though – they’re a much-needed calm before the fun, danceable, country storm that is “Lucille’s Honky Tonk”. Trust us, you’ll suddenly feel like you’re in a saloon in the old west as you move and step to “I can hear her when she sings, and the beauty that it brings. Yeah, we’re swinging down at Lucille’s Honky Tonk.”
As you approach the end of Cannery Row, you’ll be struck by how White Stripes-esque “Talkin’ To A Man In Montana” sounds instrumentally. It’s the perfect hit of country rock as the female vocals return once again to add dimension to the song. The record ends with “Song For Bobbie Jo”, a measured yet complex ballad in which Marschke croons, “I’m comin’ home for good, I’m comin’ down like no one ever should,” before escalating to nearly yelling, “You know, there’s times when I might need a friend.”
Cannery Row shares its title with a 1945 John Steinbeck novel set in California. Why is this even relevant? Well, yes, the album and the novel are both reminiscent of a very country-influenced era and region. More notable, though, is that, like Steinbeck’s novel, this Deadstring Brothers masterpiece will be put down in the books as irrefutably timeless.
Review: Luke Winslow-King’s ‘The Coming Tide’
Thank God for Luke Winslow-King. In a musical era in which simple beats and perverse lyrics reign supreme, and enjoying quality music puts you in the minority, Winslow-King brings back a feeling long forgotten: the way your hips can’t help but sway in an almost instinctive way when early 20th century jazz blares from your speakers.
This pretty-boy moved to New Orleans by chance in 2001, a fact that is quite tangible when you listen to his newest release, The Coming Tide. Jazz, Delta blues, Southern gospel, and folk collide in this 11-track masterpiece, which combines both earth-shaking LWK originals and creatively reworked covers.
The first track on the album, “The Coming Tide”, ardently displays Winslow-King’s talent in working with an undeniably gospel slide guitar. In addition, fellow singer Esther Rose’s harmonies add the final, perfecting touch to the track and the rest of the album – it’s as if you don’t even realize the music is missing something until her Lucinda Williams-esque voice leaks into the mix. “Let ‘em Talk” is another of our favorites. The sweet, melodious trumpets are the ideal contrast to LWK’s defiant words: “Let ‘em talk, I don’t mind. Don’t make a difference to me.”
You can almost taste Winslow-King’s and Rose’s affection for New Orleans in the Ida Cox cover, “I’ve Got the Blues for Rampart Street” – it’s an homage to their beloved town in both lyrics and musical style, from start to finish. Just a few tracks later, we hear the duo’s soft, breezy take on love with “I Know She’ll Do Right By Me”. Listeners are immediately transported to a more classically romantic era as Winslow-King croons about his favorite girl, who is “so fair, treats me right, she gets home by the end of the night.”
The Coming Tide concludes valiantly with a cover of the 1960s track made famous by George Harrison, “I’ve Got My Mind Set On You”. It’s classic yet entirely reworked and inspired, much like Luke Winslow-King as a musical force.
Vinyl Mag’s Guide to SXSW
Indescribable. But here I am, about to try to describe it.
SXSW was intense, exhausting, physically painful at times, and overwhelming. But it was also arguably the best week of my life. I’ve never had so much productive (and thoroughly professional at all times, of course) fun in my entire life, and I’m already ready to go back. Seriously…is it next year yet?
It is important to note that, more than being the X Games of music festivals, SXSW is also a conference and an incomparable networking opportunity. Most of the day for me was spent attending parties and exchanging business cards American-Psycho-style, making connections and building mutually beneficial business relationships (such a hard life).
This was my first year at SXSW (and definitely not my last), so I had a lot to learn. Like…a lot. And fortunately, I had the presence of mind to take notes so that I could share my knowledge with you – and so I would be prepared the next time around. So here it is. My rundown of SXSW 2013:
Favorite venue: Mohawk.
Least favorite venue: The Belmont (too crowded; unless you get there four hours early and wait to be in the tiny pit, anywhere you stand provides a pretty unimpressive view of the stage).
Favorite discovery: Ginger & the Ghost.
Favorite day parties: Spotify, Yard Dog Gallery (both of which required some serious Frodo-and-Sam-style trekking, but were well worth it).
Favorite food: Taco N’ Madre food truck (I don’t know what the sauces are, but don’t ask questions and just put all of them on your tacos — you’re welcome).
Favorite live performance: Still is (and may always be) Diarrhea Planet. They make me act stupid and get sweaty, and I appreciate that.
Favorite line-up: Sirah, Charli XCX, Icona Pop, and Macklemore & Ryan Lewis all played at The Belmont on Night One. Pretty epic.
Favorite app: Hail A Cab Austin (this saved me countless times when I was trying to get to an interview. Wish I’d discovered it Day One. Kind of wish I hadn’t told you guys about it. If I can’t get a cab next year, I’m blaming my readers).
Biggest show I sort of made it to (but more like listened to from far away): Flaming Lips at Auditorium Shores Stage. So crowded I would have gotten the same experience watching it on TV.
Earliest bed time: 3 a.m.
Latest I slept in: 8:30 a.m.
Best public place to regain strength, charge your phone, use the bathroom, and lay on the floor and complain about how much pain you’re in: Austin Convention Center upstairs (surprise, surprise).
Favorite street: Rainey Street.
Favorite celebrity sightings: Standing in line behind Pauly Shore at Iron Works BBQ, meeting Perez Hilton at the VH1 Cafe, and being too scared to go talk to LeVar Burton at the Sennheiser + Paste Interactive Studio & Lounge on Rainey Street.
Favorite fan-girl moment: meeting Icona Pop at the VH1 Cafe and acting extremely uncool about it (sorryI’mnotsorry for creeping).
Favorite score: Generous Unknown Girl came up to me while I was sitting pensively on a bench and asked me if I wanted the free red American Apparel skirt she got because she didn’t feel like carrying it around. If only she had a backpack (see Lesson One below). Thank you, Generous Unknown Girl. I am forever grateful to you.
Biggest rip-off: Wu Wu Fest advertising “free Wu Wu sushi” at their party if you RSVP/”Like” them on FB…what they should have said was “one tray of six pieces of free sushi to be passed around once every two hours so you probably won’t get any unless you hang out by the kitchen, suckers”…I’m bitter, yes, but I was really hungry.
Most pointless “secret show”: Justin Timberlake at Myspace. It’s not a secret show if it’s plastered all over the wall of the building in giant letters.
Now that I’ve shared my high and lowlights with you, let me move on to the valuable lessons I learned…
Lesson One: Don’t wear new shoes, stupid. Wear the most comfortable, walkable shoes you can find. I don’t care if they are Crocs (actually, I take that back — Crocs are inexcusable), but in this case, style is secondary to practicality. I seriously have blister scars on my heels from these stupidly adorable mint Oxfords that I thought were a good idea. Damn my vanity.
On that note, go with a backpack instead of a purse. Hands-free is where it’s at. And throw a sweater in there. It gets a little chilly at night.
Lesson Two: Let some things go. You will never be able to stick to the uber-strict time-crunch schedule you have made for yourself, so allow yourself to go with the flow, always have a Plan B, and remember to leave yourself some time to stumble upon some new discoveries. That’s part of what SXSW is for. It’s not just a festival to see your iPod playlist come to life (did that reference date me? Should I have said Spotify or Drinkify playlist?).
Lesson Three: Bring your phone charger with you. Bring a portable charger. Trust me. You’re gonna be InstaTweetVining the crap out of this thing, and your phone can only handle so much.
Lesson Four: Don’t wait in line for any band for more than 15 minutes. It is a waste of time. You are missing too much of the goings-on around you, and chances are the band you are impatiently waiting for will be playing an unofficial show tomorrow at 2:00. Which brings me to…
Lesson Five: Do not rely strictly on the official SXSW show schedule. Now, don’t get me wrong, this schedule is THE BOMB, and the SXSW app on your phone that allows you to make your own schedule kept me from running around like a headless chicken (more than I already was, anyway), but chances are, your must-see-or-it-was-all-for-nothing band is playing either a day party you don’t know about or an unofficial showcase somewhere. Look up your priority bands on their Twitters and websites, and chances are you’ll be able to track them down.
Lesson Six: Stalk Twitters and RSVP to absolutely everything you plan on attending well in advance.
There you have it. Now let’s do that again.
REVIEW: The Flaming Lips’ The Terror
When the Flaming Lips released In a Priest Driven Ambulance, I was a trembling fetus nestled in my mother’s womb. When I was nine, the band was radiating mainstream attention, but I didn’t know because no exceptionally cool third-grader brought The Soft Bulletin to show-and-tell. And when I was 12, Yoshimi was battling the pink robots while I was battling… well, puberty.
It’s been thirty years since the band’s inception, and it never occurred to me that the Flaming Lips are getting old.
And how could it? Last year the Flaming Lips’ collaborative album, Heady Fwends was one of my 2012 favorites. In 2009, both Embryonic and the covers of The Dark Side of the Moon completely changed my perception of the Flaming Lips by rocketing out of pop and floating into an experimentally psychedelic galaxy of psychosis. Seeing them live at Piedmont Park in 2012 was an even more electrifying experience than seeing them live at Bonnaroo in 2007. Chronologically, everything they’ve done has been an acclaimed next step in a new direction— so when Wayne Coyne described the upcoming album as heroin new wave at a funeral for aliens, I was ready for abduction.
But during the slow wait for their upcoming album, The Terror, the Flaming Lips were featured in a Hyundai Super Bowl commercial, and hit me. “They’ve passed their peak,” I thought to myself. “The Flaming Lips are on the downward slope of their musical career.” They were selling something to us on a commercial, and it wasn’t even theirs— and it wasn’t even art. The self-proclaimed freaks were trying to sell us a car? I couldn’t fathom it, and betrayal is a bitter drug.
But it wasn’t just the fact that they were selling Hyundai. The irritatingly peachy song they used for it was a perfect fit for a car commercial— it’s the equivalent to Robin Sparkles’ “Let’s Go to the Mall” covered by indie-headaches, Passion Pit or Vampire Weekend. “Sun Blows Up Today” is definitely the most uncharacteristic Flaming Lips song ever recorded. My face contorted with grief as I saw a sneak peek of the commercial online, and with disgust as I saw it like millions of others on the television screen. As a follower who once went full freak-out during a fleeting interaction with Wayne Coyne, I was writing off the Flaming Lips.
But as any true fan, I couldn’t stay away. I couldn’t actually write off an album I was so recently certain would blow my mind into cosmic explosion. No, of course I jumped to listen to The Terror as soon as I could. It’s Flaming Lips!
And I’ve gotta say it. Even though I don’t agree with the commercial, I also can’t say it directly affects the quality of their music. Sure, “Sun Blows Up Today” might be as excruciating to endure as the sun actually blowing up, but guess what— it’s a digital-only bonus track that sounds nothing like the rest of the album. We can handle this, we can disregard it, we can delete. The commercial-ridden track, as well as any low expectation you have for The Terror, can and should be dissolved.
That being said, The Terror isn’t the best Flaming Lips album, or the second or the third. What The Terror is, however, is a total eclipse of Flaming Lips ideology.
It’s almost like NASA told the Flaming Lips that they could finally live in outer space, but that each member must travel in their own separate spaceship. And after each member is launched into the cold, dark blanket of stars and mystery, the Flaming Lips simultaneously realize in a sudden state of agoraphobia that space-travel isn’t what they had expected. Instead, while hyperventilating into their spacesuits, the Flaming Lips become painfully aware that that life in space is like an eerie post-death experience of existence in an abyss.
The Terror takes fans in a totally different direction than previous Flaming Lips albums. With its seamless structure, it both absorbs and isolates in an atmospheric experience that somehow soothes yet scares, and makes the listener completely aware of silence.
In other words, The Terror is pretty close to a parallel of Radiohead’s Kid A.
Kid A begins with the sorrowful “Everything In It’s Right Place,” balancing chaotic alien-like background noises against a slow rhythm. The Terror begins with “Look… The Sun Is Rising”’s high frequencies, glitches, and smooth, echoing human vocals.
Where “Everything In It’s Right Place” feeds into “Kid A,”’s robotic lullaby of mechanical vocals, “Look… The Sun Is Rising” also leads into the hollow-sounding “Be Free, A Way” filled with cherub lingering vocals against short repetitive chops like a helicopter propeller.
Kid A peaks as “Kid A” becomes the sonic-storm of “The National Anthem,” while “Be Free, A Way” extends its likeness into “Try To Explain,” which then becomes the thirteen-minute peaking “You Lust,” spaciously spitting vocals repeating “Lust to succeed” between creepy, paranormal ringing-sounds.
“The National Anthem” then recovers into the most isolated and serene tracks, “How To Disappear Completely” and “Treefingers,” while “You Lust” spills into the most remote-sounding track, “The Terror” and then the schizophrenic “You Are Alone.”
Kid A picks back up after “Treefingers” with the The Bends-reminiscent “Optimistic,” and on The Terror with the higher-energy “Butterfly (How Long It Takes To Die),” similar to the tracks off Embryonic.
“Optimistic” then becomes “In Limbo,” which drowns the listener with waves of haunting harmony and vocals repeating “you’re living in a fantasy,” and then into the more electronic kick of “Idioteque.” On The Terror, “Butterfly (How Long It Takes To Die)” becomes “Turning Violent,” which hypnotizes the listener with distant vocals and close shaky, industrial sounds.
Closing in on the album, “Idioteque” transitions into “Morning Bell,” which repeats “cut the kids in half,” and into the melancholy dream-like, “Motion Picture Soundtrack.” Meanwhile, “Turning Violent” becomes the almost chanting, nightmare-like “Always There… In Our Hearts.”
Kid A ends in minutes of silence, while The Terror ends with a moment of echoing feedback.
Wayne Coyne may have said that The Terror is like a funeral for aliens, but I disagree. Kid A is more like a funeral for aliens, but taking place on Earth. The Terror is more like a funeral for humans, but taking place in space— mourning their own lives lost in a vacuum.
Outside of that vacuum and despite the commercial, The Terror echoes that the Flaming Lips haven’t begun the downward slope. Instead, they’ve embarked on a haunting and sorrowful journey that I can only imagine depressed astronaut Elton John would completely empathize with. It’s lonely out in space, man.