It was a bit of a last minute decision/stroke of good luck that I was able to attend The Flaming Lips' show at Terminal 5, part of a series of shows commemorating Spin Magazine's 25 anniversary. The Lips weren't a band I was superfamiliar with, apart from The W.A.N.D., which I first heard from that one commercial and thought was awesome. I had heard that their shows were pure spectacle: the type of concert you just *had* to see before you died. Well, they're in town, I'm in town, I was lucky to get my hands on some tickets, so off I was.
The Lips had played Summerstage at Central Park the night before, and I was kind of disappointed I didn't catch that show because, from what I've heard of their songs, Summerstage, for some reason, perhaps because being an outdoor venue tricks you into thinking it's bigger than it is, seemed a more appropriate venue for them. If I'm to expect The Greatest Show On Earth, I want to see it in a location that's expansive and lacks the illusion of boundaries, not in some cramped, reconverted old warehouse-y looking building. Being in Terminal 5 seemed constricting to them, which was worrisome to me, but probably hardly an obstacle to them.
Despite arriving at Terminal just as doors opened, there was already a crowd of about 100 on the floor. Not having the energy to stand there all night and having to fight for my spot with some lame crowd-pusher, I went up to the first mezzanine and managed to secure a decent spot there. There were some Spin-related hijinx happening up there (some sort of photo kiosk? Eh.) but it was pretty clear while the opening acts performed. Speaking of which, first act up was Fang Island, who I wasn't too impressed with because they seemed light on lyrics and didn't have enough stage presence to keep me compelled, plus they kind of dressed like '90s mall kids with giant hoodies, which seems to be what I remember most about them.
As the crew sets up for The Lips, Wayne Coyne walks out on stage to oversee and help out, and takes a moment to cordially address those on the stage that they ought to finish up whatever they're eating or drinking before the show starts because... well, they'll find out. He exits the stage, the setup is complete and the lights go on. Showtime!
Fast-forwarding a bit, the event happens that Wayne has warned about: he rolls over the audience in a giant hamster ball. Apparently, bragging rights are associated with being in the audience and saying you've had the opportunity to touch this magical bubble ball. He tries to cover as much of the audience as he can before he rolls back to the stage and the show resumes in a relatively standard method. Rewinding to the event BEFORE the giant plastic bubble... it should have been evident to me by just their name alone that The Flaming Lips have a fascination with women. The electronic screen lining the back of the stage illuminates bright blue, and a woman dancing naked appears, magnified to larger than life proportions. Her dancing is of the old-fashioned burlesque type, nothing scandalous, but still, I thought about the handful of elementary-school-aged kids I saw with their parents in the venue and how somebody's gonna get The Sex Talk when they get home. The woman continues gyrates for a few minutes on the screen until she sits down spread eagle facing the audience. Then the band pops out from behind the screen, giving the illusion as if they're coming out of the woman on screen's vagina, essentially giving birth to them. THERE ARE NO WORDS. This is basically a theme throughout: having the initial notion that these images of women are just being seen as sex objects, when they are meant to be interpreted as nurturers. Early in their setlist, The Lips perform "She Don't Use Jelly," something that sounds like it could have vaguely scandalous themes, but it's an ode to a mother/caretaker type whose dishes are always lacking a certain kitchen condiment. For another song, the group sang while a schoolgirl appeared on screen, a symbol of innocence. It isn't until the final song of the night and probably the band's best known, "Do You Realize?" an emotional love song that are clear on Wayne's face, magnified on the screen behind him, that you realize that Coyne means to put women on a pedestal and not objectify.
No comments:
Post a Comment