![]() While songs like “Do You Realize” and “Waiting For Superman” that are supposed to be profound, even morbid at times, sometimes got lost in the massive spectacle, others benefited from the colorfully dazzling lights, raining confetti showers and giant bouncing balloons. Sampling mainly from their two most recent LPs, this year’s Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots and 1999’s stunning The Soft Bulletin, the Lips brought beauty, madness, and moments of sheer contradiction to the stage. Picture smiling head Lip Wayne Coyne in a Wayne-Newton-white leisure suit, eking out vocals in his familiar cracking falsetto while people in giant animal suits dance, sing, and even act out the lyrics onstage. Picture two of the Lips dressed in a similar fashion - one, a giant zebra, the other a fuzzy brown bear. Picture fifteen to twenty handpicked fans in giant furry animal suits adorning the band on either side of the stage. The performances by Beck and the Flaming Lips on this night proved this second set of hunches right.It’s hard to do what the Flaming Lips do in a half-hour set, but on this night they really gave it a whack. And maybe this was also a chance for these freaks from Oklahoma City to prove they could crossover if they wanted to, that they were as eclectic and flexible as any band working in popular music. Maybe this was a chance for Beck’s longtime fans to hear his songs reinterpreted through the hands and feet of an incredibly gifted and strange group of musicians. Gradually, though, a new perspective began to emerge. ![]() The buzz was that Beck’s latest record, the brilliantly somber Sea Change, was something of a snoozer - hiring a psychotic carnival like the Flaming Lips to back him up would not only liven up the gigs, but open up ticket sales to an entirely different audience. But hippest of all, naturally, was what took place onstage.When Beck announced he had hired the Flaming Lips to be the backup band/opening act for his latest tour, it seemed like the coolest marketing ploy of all time. ![]() Hip were the many folks - big ones, small ones, little ones, tall ones - dressed to the nines and politely abiding the overcrowded outer concourse. Hip is the venue itself, a lingering presence in the Detroit slums that comes alive every now and then to brighten up the wreckage of inner Motown. To me, hip can be defined by what I saw and heard at the Detroit Opera House on October 21st. The word “hip” is defined as “being aware or informed about current goings on.” In the world of popular music, the “hip” tag is generally applied to an artist or group of artists who, in shunning current trends and conventional wisdom, become fashionable in their own right.
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