A Classic Album

by Anthony Medici in Album Reviews, Opinion Posts, Reviews

Although I grew up on rock, in what many believe was the “classic” era of rock (the 60s), I am now far more immersed in the jazz scene than I am in rock.  Don’t get me wrong:  I still can be engaged and moved and excited by rock music, especially if it pushes the boundaries:  boundaries of “good taste,” boundaries of commercial expectations; boundaries that bug the status quo.  But very little of what I hear on what remains these days of commercial rock radio meets these criteria.  The market now is all for and about “tweens,” the kiddies to teen market that just adores “Hannah Montana,” Justin Timberlake, and a host of other lip-synched, drum-synthed,  generic  popsters, who come and go with amazing rapidity.  Yes, there is a market for alt- and prog-rock, but it, like jazz, has been pushed to the margins, and its audience forced to hunt for the music.  Maybe just as well.  As has been proven time and again, the commercial process, like the ancient gods, destroys what it first makes great.  So what does my little screed have to do with today’s blog?  Not much, I’ll admit, except that my post today deals with a rock album, and what I think is a great modern rock album, a classic really, that can stand, if not quite with “Sgt. Peppers,” at least with the Rolling Stones’  “Their Satanic Majesties Request.”  (OK, I realize I’m likely in the minority on the latter pick). 

Let me cut to the chase (at last).  The album I’m talking about is The Flaming Lips’ Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots.  The title alone should disqualify it, don’t you think? That it does not is testament to the strength of its musical vision. I’m not by any stretch a Flaming Lips fan, as that terms is generally understood.  I first took notice of them when I happened to catch a performance by the band on Austin City Limits, I believe.  I was fascinated and amused by their outré stage spectacle, something that I usually don’t like, but here it is was permeated with a sort of whimsy and humane feeling that attracted me.  But the music attracted me even more. 

I don’t know the members of the band, except for theatrical front man, Wayne Coyne.  I don’t get to their concerts (although I was disappointed to miss their performance on the Washington Mall to celebrate Earth Day).  I only have two of their albums:  Yoshii and Soft Bulletin, which is good but not in the same league as Yoshimi.  I’m not particularly even sure what Yoshimi is precisely all about.  But I do know the album is one of the great concept albums, one of those rare albums that set a complete and all-engrossing mood.   Kind of Blue is like that.  Sgt. Pepper’s is like that.  Even the often-maligned Satanic Majesty’s Request is like that.  I love albums that set a mood, that create a feeling, that project a powerful musical vision. These albums come along only every so-often. Yoshimi is one of them. 

Yoshimi came out in 2002, so I am late to the party.  I suppose what I am offering here is a testament to the fact that, seven years later, the album not only does not sound dated, it is starting to sound timeless.  I started to realize this after having played the CD innumerable times while driving about.  I found myself letting the CD repeat play, two or even three times.   It never fails to capture me.  It mixes exquisite melodies with catchy tunes, inscrutable lyrics, rock sensibility, and intelligent production values.  The sense of the album is utterly humane and humanistic, while never quite giving up its entire meaning. 

Yoshimi demonstrates that classic albums are still possible.  I know I’ll continue to listen and enjoy.