Well, you can’t say they didn’t warn you.

As alluded to by the title, the latest by the freak-out wizards of the Flaming Lips goes back to the embryo — or, more to the point, back to their acid-psyche roots where nothing was sacred, not even the basics of pop music, or for that matter the structured tenets of modern recording technology. Because of this, the album forces two, wholly differing opinions. If you are, in fact, a long-timer, this is news to celebrate. The first track, “Convinced of the Hex,” is drenched in noise, busted amp buzzing, Wayne Coyne’s vocals bouncing off the walls of the studio and only vaguely captured by the microphone. Believe it or not, it only gets stranger from here.

If you came to the band through their transcendent two-fer of The Soft Bulletin and Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, you may well be horrified. The easy hooks and gonzo soundscapes once reined in to support the songs are broken open like a squeezed sausage. You’ll hear the potential in tracks like the very pretty “Evil,” but wonder if the tune was sacrificed to this hi-fi/no-fi aesthetic. It is followed by the instrumental “Aquarius Sabotage” which, if you’re not prepared for it, is just outright shocking to the ear. (more…)