Just watched a video of The Flaming Lips performing Pink Floyd’s complete “Dark Side of the Moon.”  What might be a weird pipe-dream idea, turns out to be an exhilarating work of mad genius. What a perfect match. The stoic, oh so British, Floydians meet the funky, shaggy-headed, Oklahoma freaks, the Lips. Pink Floyd’s great, diamond-hard songs stand the test of time, and The Flaming Lips make it a party, a celebration, and a profound cosmic adventure. It’s a religious ceremony of ecstasy and humor.  Instead of bread and wine, it’s confetti and balloons, with dancing girls and cheap, space-age costumes. It’s over the top and cheesy and oh so life-affirming. And the cheesiness is not a flaw, but part of the allure of the whole funky experience. The Lips’ incredibly charismatic front man, Wayne Coyne, oversees it all with a benevolent, glad-handing demeanor; he wears these over-sized bear paws, and he walks over the audience in an enormous plastic bubble. Wayne is just the best. He’s the leader of some weird, intelligent, cosmic cult. And all it takes to join is a pair of ears and a beating heart open to love. And The Flaming Lips have the chops to pull it all off.  Steven Drodz and his burned, beaten and battered Fender Jazzmaster will win you over as he alternates between guitar and keyboard.  The Flaming Lips are funky and cool. Pure, sonic, r&r, love! – Jammer

In retrospect, Pink Floyd’s 1975 album “Wish You Were Here,” is not only a beautifully cohesive sonic masterpiece, arguably their greatest achievement; it’s also a prophecy.  Roger Water’s acidic lyrics, (“hot ashes for trees, hot air for a cool breeze”), his corrosive vision, his dim view of humanity, are playing out in spades.  We are rolling along, harvesting the planet at an accelerating clip, hurtling towards a definitive Dark Green Doomsday Scenario.  We are that glad-handing, flaming fellow on the album cover; consumed by fire, even as we consume.  We are burning up, and we don’t even know it.  Will we awaken in the nick of time? Or do we emerge from our groggy state wondering if the greenery, the blue skies, the bounty of nature were all just a fever-dream? – Jammer