Pitchfork

Last week, we attended a Flaming Lips concert. It's no secret by now that The Soft Bulletin was one of the finest albums released in 1999. The tour, we'd also heard, was a marvel in and of itself, building on the album's themes, complete with visual aides. We figured, at the very least, that Wayne Coyne would qualify as one hell of an odd stage presence. To be perfectly honest, though, we were disappointed on all counts. They boiled the songs down to only their most essential elements, opting to assault the eardrums and scrap the album's nuances. Coyne was also annoyingly tame, save for some hand-puppet wielding and fake-blood dabbing.

So, $20 poorer, we trudged home. "Hey, Pete, when we get back, I've got just the thing!"

"Yeah, what's that?"

"The Ladytron!"

"The Ladytron, eh? They sound like they putt from the rough..."

"Hey, that's not fair. Give 'em a chance! It's one of the albums we got from Pitchfork Central. It could be good. And hey, they're supposed to sound like an unplugged version of the Flaming Lips."

"Fuck that shit. Gimme a cigarette and I'll listen to the Red Hot Chili Peppers if I have to."

Okay, so maybe that's not exactly what Pete said, but he might as well have. I mean, we gave this album a fair shake, but sadly, the Ladytron bear little resemblance to the Flaming Lips. To his credit-- or perhaps more to our disgust-- frontman Ted Velykis has perfected that highly sought-after Wayne Coyne croon, circa Transmissions from the Satellite Heart and Clouds Taste Metallic-- you know, that time in Lips history when Coyne's voice cracked like a hormonally-challenged teenager. The Ladytron's other decent attributes include... hmm... we had one a minute ago. Maybe not.

Oh yeah, the musical proficiency. Okay, here we go. Let's make a Ladytron song! First, strum your acoustic guitar haphazardly. (Placing your fingers on the fretboard is optional). Now, add a strange instrument in the background. (These instruments could include the sitar, the erhu, or the musical saw.) And to increase the cracked-out genius factor, sing choice couplets like: "Get yourself a telegraph/ And try to cut the sky in half." Or perhaps a wry observation strikes your fancy: "I know how hard you dream/ Must be hard to dream so hard."

Even the album's cover art is frightfully wayward. C'mon, guys! A porcine creature with breasts and a fishbowl? What the hell is going on here? I mean, you're are entitled to a little weirdness, but you have to be good weird. Weirdness doesn't give you the right to make bad music. Even the Flaming Lips at their zaniest left us some great hooks. The Ladytron doesn't even do us that courtesy.

"Can we take this out now? I'll listen to the Chili Peppers if I have to."