Flaming Lips – Clouds Taste Metallic (1995)
The Lips have become so synonymous with their frazzled brand of symphonic psychedelic and euphoric music it's easy to forget that it wasn't always this way. Clouds Taste Metallic was their last hurrah as something approaching a conventional rock band - as conventional as any band can be with song titles such as Psychiatric Explorations of the Fetus with Needles. This was the last album to feature guitarist Ronald Jones whose experimental approach to playing had so energised the band on the previous release Transmissions From The Satellite Heart. It was also the second time drummer Steven Drozd had featured – the drummer who went on to be their guitarist, keyboardist, co-songwriter and along with mainman Wayne Coyne the driving force behind their future mainstream(ish) success. Coyne would also pretty much hang up his guitar after this – a real shame I think
Listening to this album now it’s hard to understand why it was a comparative flop at the time. After their fluke underground hit She Don’t Use Jelly there seemed to be a number of candidates for further chart success – This Hear Giraffe for example is under 4 minutes of pop perfection, built on the sturdy bass of Michael Ivins, Jones creating a myriad of out there sounds and Wayne Coyne delivering a seemingly meaningless lyric in his uniquely cracked voice. Whilst there is a real pop sheen to the songs, this is still a LOUD record, everything pushed to the max, sounding like it’s on the brink of falling apart at any moment. This is pop in the classic sense though, not overproduced drivel for the masses. The Lips have always had a great line in uplifting melancholy, an otherworldly quality which makes their future direction much easier to fathom. Kim’s Watermelon Gun is down an’ dirty garage rock, They Punctured My Yolk would doubtless be best appreciated as the sun rises after a night of excess and Lightning Strikes The Postman pummels you with incessant riffing and thundering drums.
The huge change that was around the corner only serves to remind what a big contribution Ronald Jones made to the band’s sound, making his virtual disappearance since all the more of a loss. It’s still hard to believe Steven Drozd was merely the bands drummer at this stage, a great one at that, but with so much more to offer. All the elements for future greatness were already in place – just less polished, more organic and much louder. The tour that followed would break this line up of the band, resulting in them starting from scratch and ultimately resulting in the epic genius of The Soft Bulletin. If you’re only familiar with their more recent work, but are hungry for more, Clouds Taste Metallic is the logical next step.
Stuart Preston
The Lips have become so synonymous with their frazzled brand of symphonic psychedelic and euphoric music it's easy to forget that it wasn't always this way. Clouds Taste Metallic was their last hurrah as something approaching a conventional rock band - as conventional as any band can be with song titles such as Psychiatric Explorations of the Fetus with Needles. This was the last album to feature guitarist Ronald Jones whose experimental approach to playing had so energised the band on the previous release Transmissions From The Satellite Heart. It was also the second time drummer Steven Drozd had featured – the drummer who went on to be their guitarist, keyboardist, co-songwriter and along with mainman Wayne Coyne the driving force behind their future mainstream(ish) success. Coyne would also pretty much hang up his guitar after this – a real shame I think
Listening to this album now it’s hard to understand why it was a comparative flop at the time. After their fluke underground hit She Don’t Use Jelly there seemed to be a number of candidates for further chart success – This Hear Giraffe for example is under 4 minutes of pop perfection, built on the sturdy bass of Michael Ivins, Jones creating a myriad of out there sounds and Wayne Coyne delivering a seemingly meaningless lyric in his uniquely cracked voice. Whilst there is a real pop sheen to the songs, this is still a LOUD record, everything pushed to the max, sounding like it’s on the brink of falling apart at any moment. This is pop in the classic sense though, not overproduced drivel for the masses. The Lips have always had a great line in uplifting melancholy, an otherworldly quality which makes their future direction much easier to fathom. Kim’s Watermelon Gun is down an’ dirty garage rock, They Punctured My Yolk would doubtless be best appreciated as the sun rises after a night of excess and Lightning Strikes The Postman pummels you with incessant riffing and thundering drums.The huge change that was around the corner only serves to remind what a big contribution Ronald Jones made to the band’s sound, making his virtual disappearance since all the more of a loss. It’s still hard to believe Steven Drozd was merely the bands drummer at this stage, a great one at that, but with so much more to offer. All the elements for future greatness were already in place – just less polished, more organic and much louder. The tour that followed would break this line up of the band, resulting in them starting from scratch and ultimately resulting in the epic genius of The Soft Bulletin. If you’re only familiar with their more recent work, but are hungry for more, Clouds Taste Metallic is the logical next step.
Stuart Preston
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