Wayne Coyne, esteemed singer of the Flaming Lips, reclines on a chaise lounge in the walnut paneled office of his bald headed, round, thick-rimmed glasses-wearing, Austrian psychoanalyst.
Analyst: (looking over his glasses and across his desk at Mr. Coyne) So what seems to be bothering you, Mr. Coyne?
Wayne Coyne: Well, I had this awful dream the other night.
Analyst: Go on…
Wayne Coyne: Me and the other guys from the ‘Lips got this call to do this record with these other cool guys, Mark Linkous, and this other guy Danger…. danger…. Uh… Mouse or something like that. It sounded cool and all so we all agreed to do it. Mark was this real swell guy. Had a few bands, made some cool records in the late 1990’s, 2000’s. He had this kinda funny, high, whiney voice. But I always thought secretly, deep inside me, that it must have come from the most honest place, given that singing seemed to have been such a chore for the guy. Anyhow, we hit it off when we finally got together to record. He was like, “Man, I am a huge Flaming Lips fan….” And I was like “….Yeah I love your records too!” And Danger Mouse just kinda looked back at us over his shoulder from his mixing board nodding through the haze of cheeba.
Wayne Coyne: So Mark gave us this song called “Revenge” and we started to play around with ideas and such. I noticed the lyrics are really dark because, you know, I’ve spent some time in that zone as well. There was this one lyric about “in my mind I have stabbed you in the heart” and I was just like yeah….I know exactly where he’s coming from. But I went ahead and asked Mark, “how ’bout ‘shot and stabbed you in the heart?’” He looked at me as if to say, “o.k., sure.”
I scratched my beard a bit and suggested a couple of slowly soaring chorus parts to the song and, of course, some glockenspiel somewhere. “Gotta have the glockenspiel in this one, Mark. Right, Mickey?” Linkous nodded but looked just a bit flustered by the suggestion.
So we all got to work and it was sounding real good. I gave Mr. Mouse some other mixing suggestions along the way and he just nodded like he does. But you know, by the end we were listening to the mix-downs and I just could almost see the gold oozing from the speaker cones, dripping into little puddles of gold records on the ground. And, no, I haven’t taken acid in like 10 years. So afterwards I go back to Oklahoma City, ’cause that place just centers me, man.
Analyst: So far this doesn’t sound so bad, Wayne.
Wayne Coyne: Yeah, but then I woke up the other morning and my wife was like, “Did you read the paper today?” Teary eyed, she brought her iphone over and I was like, “How do I scroll down again?” And there it was.
My stomach just sank and the back of my neck got real hot.
Analyst: That seems like the normal reaction for a murderer to have.
Wayne Coyne: What?!!
Analyst: How do you think you got here Wayne? (he begins to laugh maniacally)
[Camera slowly zooms out from Wayne Coyne’s face staring wide-eyed and dazed, hands on his head, out the window. The camera zooms back further to reveal that steel bars cover the window, and continues to pull back from the barred window to a barred, grey, prison-like building silhouetted against a darkening landscape at dusk. The camera then pans up to the stars above as MUSIC, etc swells.]