Friday, November 22, 2002
Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal

NIGHT BEAT: Doug Elfman

Beck recruits Flaming Lips as backup band as well as opening act

Beck Hansen is a rock hero, a critic's darling and a commercial success. Since releasing his first big hit, "Loser," in 1993, His Royal Thinness has turned out seven acclaimed, eclectic albums ranging in style from alt-rock to folk, soul, country and samba.

So fans of alternative music went a little happy-nuts when they found out Beck picked another alt hero, The Flaming Lips, to open for him on tour. The bonus: The band plays as Beck's backup band, too. The tour reaches the Hard Rock tonight.

Things are not always what they seem with Beck, 32. Flaming Lips singer-guitarist Wayne Coyne says none of the Beck/Lips concerts so far has been a dud, although some have been more spectacular than others.

"That mostly is really up to Beck. Some nights, he's relaxed and fun, and other nights he seems a little bit nervous and insecure," Coyne, 37, says. "But I don't think the audience can really tell that much."

Beck, the musical master, nervous? Coyne was a little surprised. Outwardly, Beck appears relaxed and super cool. But Coyne thinks Beck internalizes doubts, then worries about being legitimate and wants very much to be viewed as an honest and present artist.

"I think he worries sometimes that his mind is on something else, when it should be on the exact words he's singing. I tell him, from my standpoint, none of that ever really matters," Coyne says.

Coyne says the routine of performing is like driving a car. It goes more smoothly when the driving force lets his mind loosen up a bit.

"You're better if you're not thinking about it. That's how you escape into music," Coyne says. "I'll be singing a song, and in my mind I'll be thinking, `I don't remember the words tonight.' Yet, when that part of the song comes up, I sing the words. My throat knows what the words are going to be more than my mind. That is always a pleasant surprise."

Unlike Beck, Coyne looks at performing as nothing but pure entertainment.

"I'll do whatever I have to do to get these people to have a good time. I'll set myself on fire. I don't really care, you know? But (Beck) worries about those sorts of things in an arty kind of way."

Coyne says Beck may have picked the Flaming Lips to be his backing band because Beck didn't want to audition tour musicians. Beck thinks of putting touring bands together as an overwhelming process of rejecting musicians at tryouts, Coyne says.

"These are guys who just want to earn a living, and you're telling them, `Sorry, you're gonna have to work at Target this month, instead of touring with Beck.' "

When Beck called to sign up the Lips, Coyne says, the undertone of Beck's phone call was: "You guys are already a band, right? I don't have to audition anybody. You guys show up. You play my music. I stand in front of you, and the thing is done."

At the time, Beck was preparing to release his new record, "Sea Change," a post-breakup album of sad, smart and bittersweet musical notions, which have netted Beck many comparisons to death-folkies Nick Drake and Jeff Buckley. "Sea Change" also is an accomplishment of Beck's other collaborators, notably the indie-pop genius Jason Faulkner and the studio wizard Nigel Godrich.

Against this backdrop, the Flaming Lips wanted rehearsal time all to itself to come up with slight interpretations to Beck's songs.

"We kind of said: `Why don't you leave us alone for a bit and we'll work out some of these songs. You come back and see what you think.' He was relieved that's the way we wanted to do it."

The band started rehearsing without Beck in the beginning of September. Band members practiced 100 songs or more that Beck might perform. Some Beck songs were complex, but Coyne says several of the other Lips players were so accomplished they picked up Beck's songs right off the bat.

"We know his catalog well enough. We don't sit around and listen to it all the time, but we know the scope of it," Coyne says.

Sometimes, in concert, both Beck and the Lips want more feedback on their work.

"There are moments when you wish there was a little more assertiveness. Like: `Beck, what do we do here?' I think it's working both ways. Sometimes, he's insecure about, (wondering) if what he's doing is any good," Coyne says. "We're like, `Beck, is this any good?' You want some kind of feedback. But most of it really comes from the audience. You do it and see if they react."

When the members of the Flaming Lips play their own set -- a collection of older songs and selections from the Lips' new album, "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots" -- Coyne wants each show to be a ridiculous spectacle, a "big, bombastic parade with a bunch of people helping us." That's an effort to "alleviate any pretensions about the audience being cool."

"So we attack the stage as if our first song is really like the 10th encore, like we've been there all night. We're partying. We've got confetti. We've got balloons. And we've got, like, a hundred people onstage with us. And we come out as if you already love us and this is the last big song of the night. And that's how we begin."

Like Beck, the Flaming Lips rose to alternative prominence with one big song in 1993. "She Don't Use Jelly" was a silly, fun song that referenced food and sexual lubrication. The Lips also released a series of acclaimed albums. And Coyne has turned darker in lyrics, if not so heavy, melodically. Darkness is easier than light to nail down, Coyne says.

"You don't know what makes people happy. Some people like to take drugs. Some people like to put hamsters up their butt," he says. "There's a billion different variations of what makes people happy.

"But when you talk about things that make people profoundly sad, you're really talking about a couple of things. Everybody falls to despair about the same things. It's about love, and death, and loss, and isolation."

And songs about sadness and comforting people are better modes of communication than happy songs are, he thinks.

"That's what music's greatest gift really is, is being able to make you feel not alone. No matter what it is you're thinking, music has the capacity to say, `We're right here with you, man.' "

Doors open tonight at 8. Tickets are $53 at the Hard Rock Hotel box office, 4455 Paradise Road, and through Ticketmaster. To charge by phone, call 693-5066.