SomeAngryIndian

OK so last night is as good as thing as any to kick off with so here we go.

The Flaming Lips at Hammerstein Ballroom.

Let’s begin with the opening band: Deerhoof. I’ve seen a lot of opening bands this year: My Morning Jacket, Low, Califone, Willy Mason. Low is by far the best one of all of them. I saw them open for Radiohead a few years ago and they’re always a great show.

Unfortunately, the rest of them suck. If you guys are reading this: you suck.

But it’s probably not your fault. You don’t get to put on elaborate light shows or even get the whole stage to work your magic. Most people don’t even know you’re playing till you get there. The same went with me and Deerhoof.

I didn’t even know the singer was an asian chick. I’m talking totally oblivious.

So this asian singer, she’s making weird hand gestures, she’s screaming BUNNYBUNNYBUNNY, she’s making peace signs all the youngteenlonghairedrockerboyssoontobefratguys were mimicking. The guitarist played with the ferocity of a man who hasn’t taken his pills. I think he was talking to himself or his guitar or the floor. And moving his mouth like an old man with no teeth trying to eat solid food. The drummer was the most normal. He did all the talking for the asian chick, who I’m not sure is fluent in english.

The important question: did they set up the Flaming Lips well? Hell yeah. I was completely ready for whatever Wayne Coyne could throw at me after that 5-6-7-8 crazy Tokyopop shit.

Hammerstein is too small for the UFO entrance so what did we get instead? Wayne in a giant plastic bubble that he rolled on top of the audience. We rolled him around for a while and then tossed him back on the stage. And he emerged, swanlike, from within his vessel. Then BAM — RACE FOR THE PRIZE.

Confetti Cannons and Streamer Guns. Fog Machines. Laser pointers that were handed out to the audience. A giant mirror Wayne used to catch the lasers. Big, big balloons falling from above that we smacked like beach balls. Wayne would grab them and pop them on his guitar or the drummer would smash right through him with his sticks. A giant spectacle of strobe lights and sonic hurricanes.

He namechecked two bands we should all be listening to in order to chase away the existential demons and our oppressors: the Beatles and Radiohead. It was funny and making me to happy.

During DO YOU REALIZE?? I was smiling ear to fucking ear. Everythingbright, the air orangeyellowshining, updown, thrusting maniacally in every direction. Topless chick in boots and bikini bottom on screen kicking and screaming and dancing like a child.

Wonder, oh magic, splendor!

YOSHIMI PARTS 1 & 2 — Explosive.

THE YEAH YEAH YEAH SONG — I threw my voice out not singing but shouting, exorcising frustrations, in brutal staccatoed punches.
THE W.A.N.D. — strobe lights everywhere. Just flashes of white and noise and no band, no audience, no self. Inverted, disintegrated, emolliated, penetrated, eviscerated.

Evanescence made tangible.

SHE DON’T USE JELLY — With a video of Jon Stewart from the 90’s introing it, crazy chick in a bathtub full of oranges, runny eggs. And energy, another singalong, screams of joy. It’s a magical thing when everyone knows the words.
A SPOONFUL WEIGHS A TON — lilting, fragile, gorgeous beyond my senses. I would need one or two more to even understand how much I was impacted. Truly, utter, fantastical joy and mirth.

Last night, Wayne Coyne wailed away on a double guitar, Santa Clausii and Alien Strippers regailed beside him, the heavens fell apart piece by piece while baby angels weeped in glory, glory for the new world, glory for the harmony. Peace. Walking like a child on the smallest face of the earth but for once - once, I have seen that it is, truly, enough.

I tell a friend to go see them play tonight:
Shyam: you have a way of making me feel so depressed
Gaurav: it’s a talent
Gaurav: seriously due
Gaurav: let yourself to love
Gaurav: and bring a virgin
Gaurav: she heshe can have hisher cherry poppedpoked by wayne
Shyam: haha
Shyam: but wait
Shyam: i thought i wanna be the one popping the higher cherry
Gaurav: yeah totally
Gaurav: do it man live your life
Gaurav: go and tell me how much you want to be a star shining at the center of every plant and child
Shyam: dude, i don’t know how to have normal conversation with you
Gaurav: thrust wildly to the drums of the immortals
Shyam: let’s get high and make puppies
Shyam: and turn our puppies into lesbians and film them and put it on the internet
Gaurav: totally man. chocolatevanilla puppies. rainbow sherbet
Shyam: TUTTI FRUTI
Gaurav: mango pista kulfisex explosion
Shyam: do you still have our rug?
Shyam: in your car?
Shyam: FALOODA!
Gaurav: yeah
Gaurav: i do
Gaurav: have
Gaurav: falooda
Shyam: shit, our bad