Flaming Lips at the Malkin Bowl

As much as I would love to draft a more formal and comprehensive analysis of the recent Flaming Lips show at the Malkin Bowl, time, and more specifically school, is not on my side. Nevertheless since I was there, I should try and at least give you some idea of what it was like. So this time I'm going to attempt whats called a “Katamari” type review of the show.

The following are things I saw at the Flaming Lips show, in no particular order: Two dozen dancers that looked like they were rejects from Devo, Two massive death star sized disco balls, an array of neon green pulsating laser rays, two scary monster claws, a couple banging about 5 feet away from my friend and I (they were in love), a whole lot of giant balloons, two heavy artillery confetti cannons, a shit load of confetti, a few kids sitting on their parents shoulders using big head phones as ear muffs, a bear (costume), Wayne Cohen's massive sweaty face in extreme close up mode, a glowing florescent blue animated women, her vagina that was burning so bright, it was just a blinding white light, a cane that fired streamers and fireworks into the air, smoke and bubble machines, something that looked a lot like this, another vagina that proceeded to envelope and swallow the women it was affixed to, strobing close ups of angry animals growling at you, the drummer smoking a lot, a man sized hamster/space ball, and a single enormous eye ball that stared right at you.

Best show ever.

Song of the Week: "Revival" by Deerhunter

The third track from Deerhunter's new, and absolutely brilliant, LP Halcyon Digest, “Revival” is aptly named. It's a song about not just discovering, but rediscovering the joys and inspiration that comes from making music. It starts off with a sharp, crisp and precise acoustic beat; as if it was designed for a no nonsense sort of efficiency. But as Bradford Cox transitions into the chorus his mood and style transition into something a little more broad and expansive. As he sings he- in a sort of real time way- creates this swelling, cascading sense of realization and epiphany. “Darkness, always... it doesn't make much sense”, he preaches. Its as if he has begun to understand that creation can be a cathartic process, not a dreary and painstaking motion. The way he performs is as if he's not just letting us in on something he recently discovered, but as if he is stumbling upon this enlightenment right along with us. Listen to the way he slows down his pacing just a little bit during the chorus. It's masterful and a big step forward for an artist that has never really been synonymous with any optimistic descriptors.