In America, the single is all but dead; long live the single in its
new incarnation, the extended-play record, or EP. Two big factors
record labels' incessant quest for profits, and the CD's
ability to hold nearly twice as much music as a long-playing vinyl
album have helped kill the low-priced single for artists on
major labels. So instead, we get the occasional EP featuring a song
or two from a band's latest album, supplemented by a few b-sides
and/or cover songs, along with the near-ubiquitous "bonus enhanced
multimedia content." Priced higher than singles used to be priced,
but lower than CD albums, today's EPs usually offer music that
somehow wasn't good enough to appear on the albums they trail, but is
still thought to be worthwhile.
Since signing with Warner a decade ago, the Flaming Lips had
routinely released a single or two off of each album, offering fans a
few b-sides and alternate takes (one of those singles, "She Don't Use
Jelly," from 1993's Transmissions From the Satellite's Heart,
was a minor hit). Despite a lack of airplay on commercial radio, the
band has reached its current peak in popularity through a combination
of positive press, relentless touring and savvy marketing. They've
become noticed through word of mouth rather than broadcast media
saturation, though the occasional television commercial has added
some extra "oomph" to their efforts.
So 2003 is here, the Lips are touring behind a year-old album, and it
seems a good time to put something out, right? "Fight Test"
gathers seven songs, some previously available elsewhere, from the
last year, and bundles them with the PC-playable video for the title
track and the trailer for the band's forthcoming "Christmas on Mars"
movie.
So you're probably wondering whether this new release is worth your
money. My answer would be a guarded yes, assuming you're already a
Flaming Lips fan. None of the six non-Yoshimi... tracks being
offered up approach that album's best moments; instead, this EP
offers a survey of the band's myriad influences (if not some outright
homages) and a versatility that hasn't been displayed on their last
few albums.
The EP has a rather straightforward flow, starting with the title
track (which also opens Yoshimi...), then a trio of covers,
followed by a Yoshimi... remix, and two new Lips songs. "Fight
Test" sports the most obvious hook and some of the best guitar work
on the computer-heavy album it was pulled from, but you already know
that. Next comes a shocking revelation, as the band strips Kylie
Minogue's infectious but lightweight hit "Can't Get You Out of My
Head" down to its core, taking away the poppy trappings to expose the
song's sad, obsessive elements. Melancholy strings, achingly sad
piano, and dramatic flamenco-style guitar strums transform the song,
dispelling Minogue's taunting tone and infusing it with the sound of
sheer desperation. In covering songs, artists are often simply
acknowledging their tastes or trying to appropriate earlier
successes, but reinventions like this remind me of the hidden depths
a seemingly simple song can hold when placed in the proper hands.
Unfortunately, the covers found here of Beck's "Golden Age" and
Radiohead's "Knives Out" are much less interesting, except as a
reminder that Wayne Coyne's warbly voice is better suited to those
songs he writes for himself. Both stick rather closely to the
original artists' arrangements and seem to serve mainly as tributes.
These are followed by a pleasant diversion, a nine-minute remix of
"Do You Realize?" that carries the parenthetical subtitle "Scott
Hardkiss Floating in Space Version." And it does float nicely, with
the original's guitar strum and drum beats replaced by a house-style
beatbox, preserving the string and bell sounds while fleshing them
out with additional electronic flourishes. "The Strange Design of
Conscience" continues this foray into the dance-pop realm, with the
downbeat, accusatory lyrics, simplistic synthesizer parts, and
tentative guitar picks and strums strongly echoing New Order(!) at
every turn.
And last comes the big, happy, country-tinged closer, "Thank You Jack
White (For the Fiber Optic Jesus That You Gave Me)," a rambling
narrative about how the White Stripes front man bestowed the item
under discussion upon Wayne Coyne, and the beneficial effects it had
upon him and his entire neighborhood. It's a wonderfully
inconsequential goof that reminds us that, for all the earnestness of
their recent albums, the Flaming Lips still possess the perverse
sense of humor that marked a fair bit of their earlier recordings.
On balance, the Fight Test EP is a mixed bag of tricks and
treats. If you approach it hoping for a mini-album equal to The
Soft Bulletin or Yoshimi.... you're likely to come away
disappointed. But as a collection of curios for hardcore Lips fans,
it has some very satisfying moments.
|