Flaming Lips turn Toad's Place into a radio city

Back in the second half of the '60s, there was a traveling show called the Exploding Plastic Inevitable that Andy Warhol used to introduce this little band known as The Velvet Underground, which had just released a harsh album that detailed some of the worst aspects of human existence. Lights flashed, the sound thrashed, dancers convulsed, and the room pulsated as the band delivered songs about sadomasochism, drugs, and depression. People walked out feeling glad the madness was over. They had gone through the most horrifying experience of their lives and were happy to return to their routines.

COURTESY DAMIEN M. JONES Wayne Coyne of The Flaming Lips with his evil twin, Enyaw.

Fast forward to 1999. With The Soft Bulletin, The Flaming Lips jumped headfirst into lush sounds seemingly fallen from outer space and lyrics chronicling tales of love and hope. They did not, however, totally abandon their rough edge; many tracks contain some good-natured explosions designed to rev up the eardrum. How can they perform these layered songs live? Not to worry. The Oklahoma trio has developed a show to capture the opposite emotions of the Exploding Plastic Inevitable by using the same techniques.

Sound is key, because this is, after all, a concert. How many concerts have you been to that were ruined because of horrible acoustics? Well, the Lips have devised a plan to negate such problems: headphones. All you do is tune in to a certain frequency and there is the concert, crystal clear, in all its glory. Many people did not use the headphones because they felt it would block some of the authenticity of the experience. This was definitely not the case. The efficacy of the sound doubled. It was stereo squared.

The onerous task of perfecting sound out of the way, creating ambiance must have been the easy part. As the band sauntered out, it seemed mighty calm. Then the large video screen in the rear came to life as Conan O'Brien introduces the band before it performed on Late Night. Just as the camera is about to pan over to the band, the image was cut off and the Lips launched into the Soft Bulletin opener, "Race for the Prize," with Wayne Coyne continually smacking the gong. Yes, the gong, because the Lips have no drummer and need some percussive presence. Steven Drozd plays drums on the albums, but his keyboard and guitar skills are needed first and foremost in concert, and the stoic Michael Ivins perfectly fits the role of the omnipresent (see: just there) bassist. So for the live show, all the drum tracks were programmed. A quick "Thanks, everybody," and the concert was in full force.

One thing everyone kept wondering was why Coyne was wearing a yellow raincoat. We soon got our answer. For "The Spark That Bled," Coyne doused his forehead with fake blood while he crooned in his Neil Young-like voice, "I accidently touched my head and noticed that I had been bleeding." It was not grotesque, but humorous. The performances were top-notch and the theatrics well received. The most notable departure from The Soft Bulletin was their biggest radio hit, "She Don't Use Jelly," from Transmission from the Satellite Heart back in 1995. All the stops were pulled out for this one, as the audience was given bags of confetti and told to go crazy. Add garbage bags of small balloons being emptied by Coyne into the crowd, and that is one hectic environment for the obvious crowd-pleaser.

One major disadvantage of this confetti assault came later at the show's anticlimactic point. Some chiclet-brained moron decided it would be funny if he launched a handful of confetti right at Coyne's face. So right in the middle of "What is the Light?" Coyne got a mouthful of the white paper fragments and was forced to stop and head for his bottle of water to clear his mouth. At Yale, always remember that some people may be smart but without common sense. That amoeba obviously just did not understand what was going down. But Coyne recovered and returned to a rousing ovation.

Despite this setback, the heights were so extensive that the incident could easily be forgotten. A story that put the lyrically confusing "The Spiderbite Song" into perspective sharpened the song's emotional tilt. "The Gash" was made even more chaotic by the use of a torso-covering strobe light suit worn by Coyne. Later, Coyne picked up Drozd's guitar and hunkered down for the continous riff of "The Observer" as the other members of the band swirled around the sparse notes. Coyne, gesturing with a mechanical flapping dove for the soaring "Waitin' for a Superman," completely wowed the crowd and instilled a contemplative mood. Closing with "When You Smile," Coyne instructed the crowd to "go a little crazy" and let all the pent-up energy out when a rocket-ship flashed on the screen. While the effect he desired was not totally delivered by the somewhat lazy crowd, the essence was there. And then, after one encore, the Lips were gone to thrill another club in another city.

Once the show is over, and you head back to the street with ringing ears and confetti-filled hair, you realize something has happened. You're not quite sure what it is, but, in the words of the Lips themselves, "suddenly everything has changed."

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