The bizarre, planetary appeal of the Flaming Lips has been exactly that: songs that erupt like spontaneous meteor showers, aural landscapes that resonate from the far reaches of the galaxy and beyond. It’s this ideal that make Wayne Coyne and company capable of consistently re-inventing themselves amidst the trying career voyages that are common to any indie-rock titan. Mainstream success seemingly hasn’t sullied its monopoly on most things hip and weird.
At least that’s the case being made on “Embryonic,” the Lips’ most stratospheric record since “Zaireeka,” which, mind you, needed four separate stereos to maintain the weirdness.