I've been all about the new Cosmos: A Spacetime Odyssey series on FOX. Yes, FOX. Say what you want about Seth McFarlane, but they guy used his Hollywood mojo to get a Neil deGrasse Tyson and Ann Druyan produced update of the Carl Sagan classic made on a network that thanks to corporate synergy insulates it from attacks from Fox News, and that's beyond heroic. More importantly though, it's brilliant television that expands the mind through... get this... the imparting of scientific knowledge, and boffo CGI that's in true Sagan fashion rather trippy. Colbert Report favorite deGrasse Tyson has been hitting it out of the park these last few weeks, and in honor of his service to America and humanity I've compiled a playlist celebrating space and it's psychedelic virtues. Enjoy.


"Space Oddity" performed by Scott Hadfield on the International Space Station. This dude got everything right for this one, a wondrous fusing of art, taste, and science.




Daft Punk, "Contact." This one is for the die hard Sagan fans out there, fans of the dubious screen adaption of his book with Jodie Foster, Matthew McConaughy, Buffalo native William Finchner, and fans of Kubrick.




The Flaming Lips, "Vein Of Stars." This fan made video amazingly makes this already sexy Flaming Lips ode to oral sex under the stars even sexier.




Sun Ra Arkestra, "Face The Music" and "Space Is The Place." Sun Ra's deeply soulful and liberating space jazz is a perfect vehicle for freeing one's self from the static checking and holding you back, a metaphor for the societal backdrop for DeGrasse Tyson's "journey of imagination."




Kate Bush, "Hello Earth." Part of the joy of Cosmos is how it provides a universal context for where our planet and the life on it fit into it, providing a new way to view us. Also, welcome back Kate Bush, who's slated to perform live this year for the first time in decades!




Beastie Boys, "Intergalactic." Another "journey of the imagination," with the Beasties, a giant robot, and Godzilla.




David Bowie, "Life On Mars?" Alas, the answer is no.

Initially I was inclined to pretend this never happened, but the whole thing is just so ludicrous that I had no choice but to acknowledge the fact that Wayne Coyne and Steven Drozd joined Miley Cyrus for an onstage duet Saturday night of "Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots Part 1." Yes, that's Wayne dressed like an orange obsessed comic book villain and holding a big helium balloon  saying "____ YEAH" (where does one obtain a ____ YEAH balloon?) sloshedly muddling along while Miley and her band of crack musicians drained the life out of that Flaming Lips classic. And yes, that's Miley Cyrus, singing like she has gumballs in her mouth and performing in a t-shirt with her face splashed across the front and back as the vast majority of her audience starred blankly ahead. Who does that? 

Not even Steven Drozd can save the day; of course his keyboard strains are tasteful and emotive, but Miley's band is so milquetoast he underplays it, denying her already zoned out fans some of his patented ear candy. Not that I entirely blame him, considering those people paid American money to watch a former Disney star warble along poorly to abjectly cheesy countrified pap... wearing a t-shirt probably on sale at the no doubt abundant merchandise stands. Why should he tingle their ear drums with his sweet sonics? Being boring, most probably would have no idea what was happening and freak out anyways.

But is this it? Has Wayne and Co. finally jumped the shark? Considering they did that at the outset, way back in the early 90's when they did "She Don't Use Jelly" on Beverly Hills 90210, the Flaming Lips have effectively proofed themselves against that charge, or at least have raised the bar higher than a blatantly self serving duet with Miley Cyrus. Maybe they'll find some new fans among her flock, fans who would then eventually and inevitably realize that Miley Cyrus is actually TERRIBLE, and defect. We can only hope. If nothing else, it's another context to appreciate just how truly woeful she really is. Just watch out, Wayne and Miley liberally and gratuitously drop the F bomb before and after their performance.

For me, Christmas and The Flaming Lips go together like Christmas cookies and sugary frosting. Whether it's the numerous Christmas songs that dot their oeuvre or their cult classic film Christmas On Mars, it's clear that the joy, wonder, and air of melancholy of this holiday season is very near to Wayne and company's hearts, especially Lips musical mastermind Steven Drozd, whose achingly beautiful arrangements synch up perfectly with this time of year.

Case in point: their imminently mysterious, enigmatic and rare 2007 Christmas album Atlas Eets Christmas, a collection of tastefully off kilter piano jazz released under the fanciful name Imagene Piese. Billed as "recently discovered" recordings by a forgotten Iraqi jazz musician who'd allegedly committed suicide in 1978 and coincidentally released during the Lips' anti George Bush period, these Steve Drozd compositions and re-workings of holiday traditionals are sonically psychedelic and and pleasingly weird, yet remarkably direct and piercingly heartfelt. 

Consider them a gift from me to you. Merry Christmas.*


* Or Festivus. Or whatever you observe this time of year.

I am a man on a mission. The mission: to find that elusive Flaming Lips cover Tame Impala / Tame Impala covers the Flaming Lips EP that's floating around. Originally available only at Lips/Tame Impala tour stops, it's been reported that it's also landed at random indie record stores, but as this point I'd even settle for mp3 downloads based on this freewheeling and hella trippy Flaming Lips cover of Tame Impala's "Elephant." No, I really want that EP on vinyl, especially if it's more of that handmade vinyl Wayne was fooling around with last year, like their Heady Fwends vinyl set for last year's Record Store Day (which is one of the coolest things I've ever picked up... ever). Anyway, here's "Elephant," which you probably shouldn't listen to while operating heavy machinery. 

Ditto for this Flaming Lips / Tame Impala collaboration from last year's Flaming Lips and Heady Fwends double LP. On "Children Of The Moon" Parker and Steven Drozd really summon the cosmic mojo, deploying one of the spaciest guitar riffs I've ever heard. Careful with this.

I've been trying to get into the new Killers single produced by M83 but it's just not taking. It's not that it's totally over the top or because it's a big song with a big sound and a big heart on it's sleeve, or my general aversion to The Killers. No, my ambivalence is the result of an unexpected time travel experience gone horribly wrong.


A few months back, John Hugar wrote a fine piece about how the process of aging affects how we interact with music, and I thought it was great for a number of reasons, among them the fact that John was looking back on his life and music from his early 20's. As somebody... uh.... older, I got a big kick out that because I too have certainly been pondering similar subject matter, with the added flavor of nostalgia that is inevitable whenever one starts to feel their age. Nostalgia gets out of hand though and easily turns into sentimentality, and it's sentimentality that turns us soft and mushy, which is why I'm wary of nostalgia even though I've lately been awash in it.


Like when I heard that Paul Williams was guesting on Daft Punk's Random Access Memories. I found myself very excited by that announcement, because it seemed like a cosmic convergence, a forgotten figure from my childhood returning out of nowhere on the most anticipated album of the year, the year of a big birthday. Like disco, Paul Williams was ubiquitous in the 70's, and it seemed like he was on The Muppet Show every other week before seemingly disappearing off of the face of the planet once the clock struck 1980, so a collaboration with Daft Punk was preposterous and perfectly reasonable simultaneously.

But then I heard "Touch" and I plotzed. Streaming it off of iTunes, my brain went bonkers with memories and sensations I hadn't felt since the late 70's. It wasn't just the Paul Williams... it was... the 70's. Cuz I'm not THAT old believe it or not, and I only caught the tail end of the 70's, and frankly my memories of the 70's are... fuzzy. I remember specific stuff, but the feeling of that time, not really. "Touch," however, unexpectedly overcame me with long forgotten data: the utter ubiquity of disco in the 70's, shiny and fuzzy variety shows with their lite disco song and dance numbers, the disco trumpet of Chuck Mangione, and the sense that everybody danced in the 70's (even though I admittedly never saw my dad dance)... stuff that I hadn't thought about in ages came rushing back, and that first time I heard "Touch," I felt it. It was almost like time travel. Not Back To The Future or Doctor Who time travel, but it was time travel of the mind, through fragments and memories and sensations back into the forgotten past.


It was more than nostalgia and a memory remembered. For an unspecified period of time (lost time?), I mentally and emotionally went back to the late 70's. It only happened once, that first time I heard "Touch," but it happened, and I'll always be kind of grateful to Daft Punk and Paul Williams for pulling that off. Which brings me back to The Killers, M83, and "Shot At The Night," which triggered a similar mental time travel experience... back... back... to the 80's! But those memories are a bit clearer, and the straight up Kasey Kasem 80's pop music of "Shot At The Night" isn't doing it for me. The 80's New Wave Revival I am down with. The 80's dance funk pop of Neon Indian I am down with. I was even down with the wry 80's hair metal revival that was The Darkness. But that sort of hardcore Top 40 POP, I have to draw the line at. I lived and forgot that stuff already, time travel be damned.

Western New York's excellent summer of music continues tonight when legendary Oklahoma City psychedelic rockers The Flaming Lips return to Artpark after a three year absence. Currently on tour behind their critically acclaimed 15th album, The Terror , and enjoying a seemingly unlikely 30th anniversary, the band has changed things up sonically on the dark, Kraut-rock infused Terror, and have retooled their live show for this tour, adding another level of excitement to an already hotly anticipated show.

With the perfect combination of music, guided by the resident musical genius Steven Drozd,  and the artistic ambitions and showmanship of ringleader Wayne Coyne, the Lips in live performance is a show unlike anything you've ever seen, and for the low low price of $5 in advance and $10 day of, it's a must see for the uninitiated. The Lips' 2010 Artpark show was magnificent, if poorly attended; a shared communal experience that was part birthday party, part psychedelic art rock freak out, and all catharsis. Who knows what we're in for tonight? The only thing I know for sure is that it will be unforgettable.

Alleghany PA native, electronic music artist, and Black Moth Super Rainbow frontman Tobacco opens the show, and gates open at 4:30 and the show starts at 6:30.

Wednesday, July 17th is going to be a very good day for me. Why? Because after years and years of yearning, I finally get to see The Flaming Lips in concert! If that wasn't awesome enough, it's only going to cost me $5! The last time The Flaming Lips came to Artpark was in 2010, and I missed it because I was in West Virginia with my dad. I vowed to make absolutely sure the next time the Lips came to the greater Buffalo Area, I wouldn't miss it again.

With the show two days away, I'd like to take some time to reflect on the oft-overlooked masterpiece of Flaming Lips career, 1997's Zaireeka. The album doesn't get anywhere near the critical acclaim given to The Soft Bulletin or Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots, but it's quite possibly the most impressive thing he band has ever done. It features a novel concept that has yet to be repeated in the 16 years since its release: four discs that are meant to be played simultaneously, on four different stereos. This presents the listener with quite a challenge, but the concept is so intriguing that the Lips deserve a ton of points for originality alone.

Of course, even if you don't have the four CD players to get the full experience of Zairekka, there's no reason you can't listen to each disc individually, or two or three discs at a time. Even if the experience isn't complete, it's still interesting, as all four discs have their individual charms. In fact, if you don't listen to each disc separately at some point, you're missing out on one of the core ideas of Zaireeka - the idea of deconstructing music, breaking down the individual components of it. Having four discs to make up one song allows you to get in touch with the specific elements of that song. Imagine how fascinating it would be to do this with an album like Kid A, or Loveless. But regrettably, The Flaming lips are the only band to try this concept, and they've only done it once.

Which is a shame, because if any idea was made to be stolen, it's this one. The Zaireeka template presents artists with limitless possibilities. If band thought the four discs was too intimidating, they could reduce it to two, and try the concept on a scale that was less intimidating to listeners. Conversely, a band could expand the concept to eight discs. Sure, it would next to impossible to get eight discs to play at the same time, and only the most hardcore fans of that band would buy it, but the potential would be limitless, and it would be drooled over by serious music geeks everywhere. So many good things could happen if a few bands were willing to steal this idea.

It's strange; just about every other innovation in rock music has been re-used by another artist after its creation. Double albums, concept albums, and rock operas have all been done hundreds of times. And yet, Zaireeka is one of a kind. It's too bad, because The Flaming Lips created a brilliant concept here, one that several artists could do amazing things with. I highly doubt the Lips will be playing anything of Zaireeka when I see them on Wednesday, but I'll always thank them for making it, and in the process, changing our idea of how far music can be taken.

For a moment, it seemed like the Flaming Lips were everywhere. With mainstream success in front of them, at the later point of an already long and respectable career, they would have had every right to just lock in and continue to replicate their earlier success, but they did not. The Flaming Lips continued to push ahead and showed themselves to be more inventive than ever. Embryonic, their last LP (not counting a series of EPs and collaborative releases) was a psychedelic epic trading the earlier simplicity of songs like “Do You Realize,” for something darker, more complex and definitely weirder. It established that this band still had something interesting left in them, and with the release of The Terror, they have confirmed that they remain in the midst of a very fruitful period.

The Terror is, at first, difficult to approach. 55 minutes of sprawling songs that are more textural droning pieces then pop songs with discernible hooks and choruses. “You Lust,” which appears early in the record, is emblematic of this. A droning track with intermittent synth whooshes and enigmatic chanting, it sounds like a transmission from purgatory. This sets the tone for the rest of the record.

Throughout The Terror, the Lips are more interested in creating sonic landscapes, sometimes suffocating and consistently darker than previous efforts. There are no songs in the vein of “Do You Realize,” or “Race for the Prize,” and definitely nothing like that song about giraffes they once did. It is not that they are no longer capable of these types of songs, they are, and the non-album “Sun Blows Up Today,” a bouncy and jubilant ode to the end of the world, demonstrates this capability well. However, this album is after something very different, and represents more of a unified statement than a collection of singles.

Wayne Coyne, the most immediately recognizable member of the band, takes a decided backseat to the instrumental arrangements written by chief song writer Steven Drozd. Coyne’s presence is felt as spectral falsetto, lost in space, seemingly searching for contact, for something to latch onto. This element of searching for a way out is central to the record. Later tracks like “You Are Alone” with its echoing questioning refrain brings this theme to the forefront.

The last third reflects a growing frustration and dread as the search for a way out becomes possibly interminable. “Butterfly, How Long It Takes to Die” introduces a low end that seems to fill these remaining songs with a vague menace. It is also at this point that a percussive element, mostly absent from the first part of the record returns, returns. This slowly builds through the last few songs until an echoing drum returns to close out the record.

By the time we reach the end, “Always There, In Our Hearts,” it is apparent this album is not offering a hopeful way out. It only offers catharsis, in the aforementioned reentry of percussion. This return is thrilling but tinged with menace. However, the angular guitar signals that this build up at least led somewhere. And perhaps, if the album droned out to the end, that would have been fundamentally more unsettling. Ending as it does, The Terror, in its way, offers a certain hope that the nameless menace this album evokes at every point will finally show itself, will finally present itself as something to be overcome.

The Terror stoically plunges itself into these dark spaces, it is a continued and active engagement with them. This is where the album succeeds. This album requires an investment of time and attention to see how it unfolds, to see how everything connects. It is something refreshingly new from a group who has been around for some time. It is the creation of a sort of headspace, a commitment to following out a certain idea and tone through to its logical conclusion. Of course, since this is the Flaming Lips, these songs are done artfully and the experiment succeeds. These textural songs, evoking a Martian landscape, and dark as they are, yield a certain beauty.

Grade: A

Courtesy of Slate and the Twitterverse, you can stream the new Flaming Lips album The Terror via NPR HERE. The band's 13th album, it was recorded at Dave Fridman's Tarbox Studios just down the road (relatively speaking) in Casadaga, New York outside Fredonia, and it hits stores next week on April 16th. Check it out, and check out this muy wacky video for the Flaming Lips' collaboration with Bon Iver off of their 2012 Flaming Lips and Heady Fwends collection...

Well, that's another Super Bowl in the books, and like many, I for one am glad it is over. This de facto unofficial American holiday is generally a mixed bag, but this year's edition turned out to a bigger turd than usual, with a wildly uneven game, lackluster commercials, a wildly over hyped half-time show, and a 35 minute long power outage that quickly became taken as a metaphor for modern America. To be honest, I'd take the whole event as a metaphor for modern America, but I'm here to talk about the music, so I'll try (and probably fail) to leave that alone...

• I so wanted to Tweet something about the Alicia Keys rendition of "The Star Spangled Banner" vis-a-vis Beyonce that would've shamelessly fed into gender stereotypes, but in an effort to keep my liberal karma pure, I refrained. Yes, Alicia Keys sang it live; in fact she sang the hell out of it, and I can't say anything bad about it.

• The Flaming Lips got their moment in the sun with their Hyundai ad airing at the start of the game. Unfortunately, amidst so many lame ads it looks like it went largely unnoticed by the general public, a shame considering it was one of the more interesting ads of the whole night.

• Audi used a track from Hanni El Khatib (produced by Dan Auerbach) for their big Super Bowl ad, and while the commercial is largely ludicrous, the song is pretty damn good, so good in fact that I'll be keeping an eye out for this Palestinian American artist.

•  Peter, Bjorn, and John should not have allowed their song to be used for this odious Budweister Black ad campaign. Wasn't 2 Broke Girls enough for these Swedes? And speaking of 2 Broke Girls, we need to find something better for national treasure Kat Dennings to do. That admittedly spicy Super Bowl ad couldn't have gotten any more blatantly sexist. Shame on us.

• I had to laugh at the geriatric network CBS unironically using T-Rex's "20th Century Boy" for their commercials for that cliche riddled new Chi McBride cop show.

Naturally I'm leery of e-mails proclaiming a band that happens to be promoted by said e-mail sound like "the saviors of music," but when I saw that British rock mag NME said that about Everything Everything, the band in question, and I had to check them out. Is this young band based in Manchester in fact "the saviors of music?" I'd like think so, because mainstream American music is once again in need of saving, and if these blokes can make an impact in the wastelands with their catchy Radiohead / Bloc Party / Doves / Yeasayer influenced sounds, well, more power to them... although I suspect that they won't and will remain indie darlings. I'm reserving judgement until I hear the sophomore album that's got the British in a tizzy, but I do have to admit, this first single is dynamite.


Here's the new Strokes song that was featured last week, just because a lot of people seem to hate it or consider it "weird." I'm not one of those people.



The Black Angels announced that their fourth album Indigo Meadow is coming out April 2 and released a rather timely single "Don't Play With Guns" that features a marked sonic departure from their first three albums, eschewing 60's psychedelia in favor of an aggressively modern sound that's probably going to piss off a bunch of their fans. The Black Angels also announced some 2013 tour dates; unfortunately Buffalo's not on the list, which makes me sad because while their last Buffalo show got some rough treatment from the blog, it was actually a pretty good show. I'm not going to say it was as good as their 2010 Beggar's Night show at the Tralf with Black Mountain, which was absolutely wonderful, but it was real good.


April 2 is going to be heavy lifting for music fans (or at least for me) with new albums from The Black Angels, Caveman, and The Flaming Lips, who will be generating some hype for their upcoming album The Terror this Sunday night by being featured in a Hyundai commercial that will be aired during the Super Bowl. Of course people are going to bitch "the Flaming Lips sold out!" but frankly, they "sold out" ten years ago when "Do You Realize?" was used in a car commercial and twenty years ago when they performed "She Don't Use Jelly" on 90210, and more to the point, that talk's just effete lameness of the worst kind. These cats have families and they need to get paid, and with nobody showing music videos anymore outside of MTV's faded xerox of 120 Minutes, they've got to get out there somehow, and if this joyfully askew, oddly tasteful, and thoroughly entertaining car commercial gets The Flaming Lips and/or Wayne Coyne trending on Twitter, I'm OK with that.

Like The Flaming Lips themselves, Christmas On Mars isn't for everybody. As one might expect from a movie made with family and friends (including Fred Armisen and Adam Goldberg) in a backyard and in an abandoned cement factory; it's not, strictly speaking, a cinematic masterpiece. Set on a doomed human base on Mars, in the future on Christmas Eve, it's hilarious watching foulmouthed chaps from Oklahoma musing on their existential despair with thick Oklahoma accents and bad teeth. Hope and help arrives in the form of a green extra-dimensional alien played by Wayne Coyne who repairs the vital oxygen and gravity systems (by glowing at them), helps Major Syrtis (played by Lips multi-instrumentalist Steven Drozd) navigate his way through a space madness induced nervous breakdown, and ends up in a Santa suit before departing happily ever after in a spaceship he stores inside himself. 

While the acting and script is frequently.... rough, the film still works. There are nods to Soviet and French New Wave cinema that give it a pedigree beyond "drugged out rock and roll movie nonsense," while the film's special effects and visual set pieces are ambitious and exceedingly well executed, elevating the film beyond the DIY homemade movie genre it firmly and proudly belongs to. Plus, for a do-it-yourselfer, it benefits from a bold score steeped in film score history from musical genius, Steve Drozd, that's alternately disconcerting and hauntingly beautiful. Christmas On Mars is a series of minor and major triumphs: for the humans in the movie on the receiving end of a quasi Christmas miracle; for Steve Drozd who was going through a REAL rough patch when the film was shot in the late 90's and early 00's, but pulled through to find married happiness and fatherhood (and more feats of musical genius); and for Wayne, who finished his artistically ambitious whacked out backyard movie.


Yes, Christmas On Mars is totally ____ed up, but damn, everybody tried so hard, and it's just so much fun to watch that it's become a holiday tradition that makes me feel warm, fuzzy, and weird. This rather clever trailer gives you a taste:



The rest of my Flaming Lips Christmas includes a tour of the rest of the Lips Christmas oeuvre, which I'm including for your holiday consumption and consideration:

"Christmas At The Zoo," from Clouds Taste Metallic, 1995. Animal lovers will love this, while music lovers will love the glorious wall of sound and the fact that it's a Christmas song that doesn't suck. I'm also keen on the fact that the Lips included it on an official album as opposed to a b-side or an outtake. Album space is valuable real estate, and for me it shows a genuine commitment to Christmas to include a Christmas song like this.



"White Christmas" live from 1999. There's something wonderfully sweet about this stripped down rendition of the Bing Crosby holiday standard. Steven Drozd's keyboards are symphonic, and Wayne is utterly sincere in his effort. I'm sure Bing approves.




"A Change At Christmas (Say It Isn't So)," 2003. This live in-studio track, which was included on the Ego Tripping At The Gates Of Hell ep, is gorgeous and devastating in it's honesty about the human condition. Wayne's right, why does everything have to go back to "normal" after Christmas? Why can't the peace and goodwill towards your fellow humans go out the window at 12:01 AM on Boxing Day? It's a damn shame that we can't hold onto it a little longer. Drozd's keyboards and arrangement are again sublime.





The Flaming Lips Christmas. Enjoy.

buffaBLOG knows your time is valuable, so here's this week's Colbert Report "StePhest Colbchella '012 RocktAugustFest" performances (plus a few web exclusives because we love you) in one handy post for your Friday consumption. Fun Fact 1: 3 of the 4 acts featured have played WNY in the last few years. Fun Fact 2: additional performances as well as Colbert's interviews with the bands can be found at Colbertnation.com .

You're welcome.

Monday, Fun..

Tuesday, Grizzly Bear.





Wednesday, Santigold.




Thursday, The Flaming Lips.





And as an added bonus, the Lips performing The Colbert Report theme song while Wayne Coyne and Colbert walk over the crowd in space bubbles.

"Love yer brain.. even if it slips down the drain."    - The Flaming Lips

Sunday my brain didn't work so good. It was shot. A killer week of shows (Blind Pilot, Yeasayer, Black Angels), work, alarming heat, and The Black Angels Saturday night left my brain in a questionable state on the only day I had to write this here post, and what I did manage to crank out showed it in spades. There's a paragraph floating around cyberspace so preposterous and out of control that it's not even funny, and the plan was to try to wrastle it into something resembling coherence for your Monday night amusement. But then I got home from work in time for the last 15 minutes of the USA vs Canada Olympic Women's Soccer semi final, and well, there's been a change of plans.

Mind you, that incoherent crap will be hammered into shape... eventually (and between us, frankly the coherence of this substitute is debatable too), and my special assignment will see the light of day... soon, once a few facts get confirmed, but for now, my probably still damaged brain is fixated on events in Manchester, and strangely, Mars. Considering our country is a hot mess and awash in crass stupidity, I find myself drawn to stories highlighting human achievement, and NASA successfully landing that billion dollar high tech roving doohickey on Mars was a nice change of pace and a swell affirmation of the virtue of intelligence. Seeing all those nerds jumping around and high five-ing  each other just made my me smile. Good for them. Good for us. But that's not what this is about, and neither is this gratuitous and ironic use of David Bowie's "Life On Mars?"




This is about human achievement of another kind. I'll admit I haven't been completely obsessed with the Olympics (other than that Danny Boyle Opening Ceremony), but other than the women's beach volleyball I've caught a few of the Olympic soccer games, mostly to tide me over until the start of the English Premier League in a few weeks. Except for the US Women's soccer team. Them I've followed with tremendous interest, even if catching all of the games has been impossible, like today. I totally figured that the game would be in the books by the time I got out of work, confident as I was that our ladies team would clobber our neighbours to the North on their inexorable march to the gold medal match, but Canada held on, actually leading the match 3 times before we tied it up, forcing the extra time and potentially the diabolical crap shoot that is penalty kicks. And after watching Great Britain's men's soccer team lose to South Korea on penalty kicks the other day in epic fashion, I really... REALLY didn't want penalty kicks. But with literally seconds left before the full time whistle...




Seriously, Hollywood screenwriters couldn't have written that and not gotten laughed out of the room. That was at Old Trafford, home of the legendary (and hated) Manchester United... known all over the world as "The Theatre of Dreams." I could try to liken Old Trafford to Yankee Stadium, but it's not even close; I mean outside of the US, maybe Canada, Japan, Cuba, and the Dominican Republic, nobody gives two shits about baseball. Soccer (or, football) on the other hand... well, people all over the world care about that. So... at "The Theatre of Dreams"... with about 30 seconds of game time left before possible doom during penalty kicks (and Canada dying to stage a colossal upset)... Team USA wins and earns a spot in the gold medal match against Japan... the team that beat them in the last Women's World Cup.... yeah, that could be a bit far fetched. But... like Landon Donovan's winning goal against Algeria in the 2010 World Cup that got us into the knockout stage... it happened. Even a few hours afterwards it still feels like a dream, but yes, amazingly enough it really happened, and again our Women's soccer team are heroes.



Yes, heroes. And yes, I'm using more Bowie. My nationalism has limits, it's the London Olympics, and I don't care if he's not American, it's Bowie (who may or may not be dead according to the Flaming Lips). But as I mentioned earlier, our country is a hot mess, and frankly in many areas attitudes towards women have been moving backwards in the wrong direction. It ain't right, and neither is our nation's exponentially growing institutional anti-intellectualism. Thus it's entirely appropriate and fitting that right now so many of our Olympic medalists are women, and that heroes of the moment are our Women's soccer team, and NASA.

I'm not going to lie to you, this post was supposed to be all about the Radiohead show in Toronto Saturday night, but that show didn't happen so that got scotched. My backup plan for Saturday night and today's post was the NXNE Flaming Lips show with Of Montreal and Portugal. The Man, but James Wild beat me to the punch yesterday with his review of that evening's events. Bereft of ideas and pressed for time I have no choice to inflict an Odds and Sods on you. I'll try to make it worth your while...

• Here's that performance of Radiohead's "Knives Out" from The Flaming Lips show Saturday night at NXNE, along with Wayne Coyne's comments on the situation. For my part, I approved and appreciated Wayne's sentiments (and the dude who yells "show some respect @#$%ers!" at the :25 mark), and I thought that the Lips' set was much better than the rote Lips show I saw in Rochester last year. The band was feeling it Saturday night, and their performance wasn't phoned in at all, instead it was demonstrably heartfelt, and it gave songs like "Waiting For A Superman,""What Is The Light?","Is David Bowie Dying" and "Do You Realize?" even deeper resonance. There was indeed a somber element to Saturday's revelries at Yonge and Dundas Streets, but for the insane crowd that assembled (that was packed in from the stage right back to the Eaton Centre's doors), the Lips kind of made it alright. 

• Check out this preposterous, wonderful, and NSFW new video clip from Sigur Ros for "Fjogur Piano" off of their excellent current release Valtari. And yes, Shia Leboef is still a jackass.

• I'm really stoked about that Fleetwood Mac tribute album coming out in August featuring Best Coast, Lykke Li, St. Vincent, The New Pornographers, and MGMT based on this preview track featuring the Pornographers tastefully covering "Think About Me" (off of the Mac's underrated 1979 Tusk double album).

• The buffaBLOG Beach Party was great. Big ups to the folks who made it happen.

That's all I got for you folks. Stay cool. No really, it's going to be hot the next few days.

The collective mood of music lovers in Toronto was tempered yesterday with the tragic news of the stage collapsing and killing one man at Downsview Park where Radiohead had been scheduled to play the last show of their North American tour. Though the show was not part of the 2012 North By Northeast Conference it would be false to say that those unfortunate events did not have an effect on the rest of the festival. Mainly that those who traveled from far and wide across Canada and from the United States were left in Toronto saddened and soured by the fact that they could not see their favorite band last night. Good for NXNE, right? Well, sort of.

When we arrived at Younge and Dundas square last night to see the live acts, it quickly became apparent that much of the audience had been displaced from the canceled Radiohead concert. Most of the people I talked to were upset but rational, and others where inappropriately angered by the situation.    Brooklyn indie rock band Oberhofer was finishing up their set, and I felt very fortunate to arrive at this moment because I was happily surprised by their performance. Brad Oberhofer the frontman of this outfit is an prolific performer and their sound is really fresh. More to come on him later.

I was there to see Of Montreal. Though I've seen them and their stage performance before, they always seem to exceed expectations. Kevin Barnes took the stage and took two songs to really find his pace. Lately he's going with an even more ambiguous look, with a Skrillex like haircut, blurring the line between his masculinity and femininity. Nothing crazy. Their performance was solid, and they kind of played a quick hit list for the diehard fans, who were there, in hiding.
Next up was Alaskan transplants and talk of the music world Portugal. The Man. They took the stage with great energy, but unfortunately the sound mix was a little off. Now I'm sure that space has many strange sounding anomalies depending on where you're standing, so I made sure to move around a bit, and it was clear that the levels were not correct. But they played with great energy and a genuine respect to be playing at NXNE. The highlight of the set was their cover of the Beatles' "Helter Skelter," and teasing "Hey Jude" epically at the end of their set.
Then it was time for the Flaming Lips, who I intended to give every opportunity to woo me and win me over, and once again Wayne Coyne managed to piss me off. First they took forever to start playing (after they came out on stage) which was fine, I had hoped they were fixing the sound, but after saying they were ready several times, and were not, it became agitating. Finally they got underway. Confetti guns exploding, balloons bouncing, and the smile was plastered back on my face. The show was theatrically going swimmingly. Then after the first 3 or so songs, Mr. Coyne took to the mic to express his condolences to their friends and inspirations Radiohead in reference to the incident. They then played the Radiohead song "Knives Out" which is not a happy-go-lucky song and followed it with a piano ballad of their own that seemed to last forever, completely halting the performance and dampening the mood. And in typical fashion he began placating to the crowd and begging them for their affections in this a difficult time. It totally turned me off. And although it was of no fault to them, I have never seen that many kids pass out of "heat-exhaustion," not even at a Disco Biscuits show.
Needless to say we all needed a change of scenery. At that point I was ready to punch the next person that mentioned a "secret Radiohead show" or "Thom Yorke DJ set." We got the fuck out of there. Horseshoe Tavern was the next spot on our chain of events and it was absolutely overrun with people dying to see the Lumineers. We got the hint that every NXNE venue was going to be this packed for the rest of the night. Remaining there for only a portion of Young Empires set, it was either leave, or pass out in the bar.

Smartly we headed away from downtown to the Drake Underground. I needed to see some DJs spin. I was getting "banded-out." Luckily we skipped the block-long line and kind of persuaded ourselves in coyly. Treasure Fingers put on his headphones and began spinning the moment we walked in. Blissfully, we danced around to his blending of Hard French Nu-Disco music until we began to tucker out around 3:45AM. As we were leaving some of the members from Portugal. The Man were entering the premises, and there at the door getting denied entry was poor Brad Oberhofer, who later told me on the street how he hates nightclubs. I consoled him, and disagreed, but shared a token moment with him in commiseration of how the vibe of the city unfortunately changed over last night.

I'm still trying to wrap my mind around it. I mean, what are the odds of my two favorite bands playing in the same town on the same night? It's insane. Preposterous. And these aren't "Johnny-Come-Lately's" when it comes to favorites; these bands have been top of my list for almost a solid decade. In many regards it almost can't happen, but it is. I'm talking about Radiohead and The Flaming Lips, both playing in Toronto at separate locations next Saturday. It's madness. A fan since college, Radiohead elbowed their way back onto my favorites list in 2003 with Hail To The Thief, a brilliant tour of the existential and collective cognitive discord that reigned in the early years of the 21st Century in the wake of 9/11, and soon they floated to the top they haven't left since thanks to In Rainbows and the vastly under appreciated King of Limbs. The Flaming Lips immediately shot to the top thanks to the musical genius of Steven Drozd and poignancy and artistic ambition of Wayne Coyne, and as bands that I'd loved for decades faded, it was Radiohead and The Flaming Lips who became my bands.




I even came to view the two bands as being locked in a mutually beneficial musical space race ala The Beatles and Beach Boys in the mid 60's when both bands traded classic albums back and forth culminating in a trifecta of albums that shaped rock music, Revolver, Pet Sounds, and Sgt. Pepper's (Brian Wilson's... uh... issues... scotched the completion of Smile, the Beach Boys' answer to Pepper). Now whether such a relationship Radiohead and the Lips exists is entirely debatable, but looking at their output over the last decade they've both been remarkably forward thinking sonically, and it's entirely possible that creative geniuses Steven Drozd and Jonny Greenwood have been trading ideas back and forth. In any case they're my bands, I missed the Beatles and Beach Boys the first time around, Radiohead and the Lips have become my Beatles and Beach Boys, it's my musical theory/fantasy/delusion, and I'm going with it.


Yes, next Saturday is going to be a music bonanza, for this music lover at least, with the long awaited buffaBLOG Beach Party in the afternoon at Sunset Bay Beach Club, and personal music nirvana in Toronto that night. An incredible lineup of local bands has been assembled for WNY's listening pleasure including Aircraft, The Tins, Canary Girls, Nelson-Type, Voodoo Friends, and Handsome Dan; and for $5 it's an incredible deal. Fun, sun, booze, buffaBLOG, and an excellent showcase of local music. It's a total no-brainer, and for some folks I'm sure, a great prelude to all day wackiness. But I still can't believe that Radiohead and the Lips are in Toronto that night (and on the same ____ing day as the Beach Party). It's my ultimate double bill, but it wasn't to be (although a few years back there was talk of a Radiohead/Lips collaboration, nothing came of it). I mean, seriously, only Radiohead could keep me from a Flaming Lips show (and vice versa), let alone a free Lips show for NXNE at Yonge and Dundas (where R.E.M. rocked a wonderful free show back in 2001) with Of Montreal and Portugal. The Man opening;* and unbelievably Radiohead is actually keeping me from the Flaming Lips. It's mind-boggling. It also makes me ponder life, the universe, and everything.


While it's certainly true that as a lapsed Catholic I've strayed a bit from the faith; in fact you could say that there are days when I just don't hold with any of it. On those days I'm usually interested in the universe, and my place within it. The universe of course is bigger than we can fathom, yet within what we can observe, observable patterns emerge, and those patterns sometimes intersect in amazing ways. That's what I'm chalking next Saturday up as- a ridiculous harmonic convergence, and a cruel, cruel trick of the universe.




* What an amazing lineup. Unreal. Literally. It's going to be bonkers. If I wasn't going to see Radiohead, I'd totally be going to that. Without a doubt. ____.

One of the absolute treats of this year's Record Store Day was the limited edition vinyl Flaming Lips and Heady Fwends which featured collaborations between the Lips and Ke$ha, Bon Iver, Nick Cave, Yoko Ono, Coldplay's Chris Martin, Erykah Badu, Tame Impala, Prefuse 73, and Neon Indian. These collaborations were originally released in a variety of wacky formats throughout 2011, and the band took the best of them and assembled them into a remarkably cohesive and sprawling double album masterpiece that debuted on Record Store Day on limited edition handmade vinyl albums, and will be getting wide release on cd and digital download from Warner Brothers on June 26. 






With a new album slated for the fall, Flaming Lips and Heady Fwends is an excellent tour of the modern music universe with the Lips as tour guides/instigators, as well as an excellent introduction to this legendary American band. Every now and again people talk about "the American Radiohead" and they always go with Wilco even though the American band that's really pushing the sound has consistently been The Flaming Lips, something underlined repeatedly on Heady Fwends. 






There are currently no area tour dates scheduled, but with a new album on the way you never know (if not this year, maybe next year). Even if you're not a big Flaming Lips fan, you've still got to have seeing them on your "to do" list because they have to be experienced to be believed. I still think a Rocking the Knox with the Lips and an exhibition of Wayne Coyne's art would be dope...

Today has to be an Odds and Sods post because my last 3 have been about Record Store Day, and a fourth would've been too much.