Tonight, after eating dinner and taking out the trash, my sweetie 'n' I chilled out on the couch to listen to the Flaming Lips' Embryonic on sweet, sweet double vinyl -- a ritual (ceremonially listening to a new album, even though this one's a year old) that takes me back to my misspent yoof even more than maintaining my guitars does. I've had a download of the thing since before it came out last year, but we've been listening to it a lot lately and I asked Jenkins from Doc's to order me one before this past weekend's show.
While it's definitely a return to the crazy psych of their Priest Driven Ambulance daze, it's also clearly the work of the same band that made The Soft Bulletin and Yoshimi -- has the same sweet, gentle humanity as those later, more mersh records underneath all the crazy Can/'70s Miles-ismo. The secret ingredient, methinks, is Steven Drozd, who didn't join the band until they were signed to Warners and heading towards MTV-land. The American Pink Floyd? I would say yes. And the vinyl lets you hear so much more of what's in those tracks that it ain't even funny. Someday, my sweetie vows, we'll own a tube amplifier.