A few years back, I was listening to an old 1960s rock album, and generally
enjoying it, when near the end there was a break between songs and for a
moment one could hear something in the background, like one of the band
members saying something in the studio, before the next song started up.
And then, for some reason, I wished that there had been more moments like
that on the rest of the album. Moments that provided a glimpse behind the
slick production values, or maybe didn't even make sense, something
unintelligible buried in the mix that would leave the listener asking
questions. That's one of the reasons why I like groups like the Beatles and
Pink Floyd, because they left enough unexplained to fill many a thesis paper
on what they could have possibly meant.
And that's one of the reasons that I really like Flick. Although on the
surface their sound would seem to be firmly in the "alternative rock" genre,
I find plenty of old psychedelic-rock touches in their music, and little
bits to make you go "huh?" Take the name "The Perfect Kellulight," for
example. On the video portion of the CD, the band declines to answer what
the title means, implying a big secret that can't be revealed to just
anybody. The video has a sort of X-Files feel at times, with the band
standing in a field and pointing to something mysterious in the sky. The
back cover of the album shows Flick's symbol, a flaming egg. This takes a
1970s approach, when bands like E.L.O. had symbols (like a spaceship) that
would appear on each of their album covers. The front cover depicts a
crashed car wrapped around a railroad crossing sign, which would seem to be
ripe for a symbolic reading (e.g., does the cross sign have religious
significance?) for anyone wanting to write an over-the-top thesis paper on
Flick.
Their music, too, demonstrates an awareness of the curious element found in
old psychedelic rock songs. There is an untitled instrumental break
between "Electric Pear" and "Maybe Someday" which almost sounds like
something the Nairobi Trio on "The Ernie Kovacs Show" would play. When I
first heard it, I was reminded of how Pink Floyd had an instrumental of
weird sounds at the end of "Bike" (1967). Flick's odd instrumental
functions as an intermission between the first and second halves of the
album. One of the basic critiques of the psychedelic era was that the music
was self-indulgent. My own feeling is that I'd rather hear the audio
equivalent of someone's quirky tastes because at least I know I'll probably
hear something new and unusual as a result. That hidden Flick track could
be called self-indulgent, but to my mind it's the sign of musicians willing
to try something different and unexpected, even if it doesn't meet with
universal approval. Or to quote Flick, "Doesn't it feel good to be yourself
at the end?"
At the end of "There You Go (False You)," what sounds like a radio voice
mentioning the Book of Ezekiel can be heard if one listens closely. (The
promo single mix fades out before that voice can be heard, as well as mixing
out other little weird sounds, such as what appears to be a person saying
something like "baaa-a-a-a" at 3 minutes and 16 seconds into the album
version of "There You Go." The single mix of "Drag" also shortens the
length of the opening chuckling voice. Presumably such little curious
touches were deemed too distracting or not "commercial" sounding enough for
radio.) Perhaps the Book of Ezekiel sheds some light on the meaning of
"There You Go," due to it being mentioned at the end of the song. Or it
could simply be coincidence. The Beatles put a radio broadcast of a
Shakespeare play at the ending of "I Am the Walrus" (1967) and the muttering
at the end of "Strawberry Fields Forever" (1967) caused rumors about its
meaning. A tiny voice can be heard at the beginning and ending of Pink
Floyd's The Wall (1979), as well as TV channels playing in the background
throughout the record. Flick also used a tiny voice which presumably came
from a broadcast -- a voice saying "commence ignition" -- at the start of
"Milky Way" on their 1997 self-titled EP. The lyric "Nothing seems real"
in "There You Go" also recalls "Strawberry Fields," which contains the lyric
"Nothing is real."
Another element often found in songs of the psychedelic Sixties era was the
use of real sounds in the songs, such as the sounds of the city in Lovin'
Spoonful's "Summer in the City." Pink Floyd used such sounds extensively in
their music long after the psychedelic era. Their album Dark Side of the
Moon (1973) contains moments where a person can be heard chuckling in a
creepy manner. The Flick song "Drag" opens with what appears to be one of
the Flick members chuckling in a kind of creepy way, although the
youthfulness of the voice prevents it from being as creepy as those found on
Pink Floyd albums. Other Pink Floydish touches in Flick songs include the
motorcycle sound at the end of "Pink Boo" and the sounds of traffic at the
end of "The End." Incidentally, "The End," ironically, has a "false
ending" -- where you think the song is over but then it starts up again.
The Beatles used "false endings" in songs such as "Helter Skelter" (1968)
and "Strawberry Fields."
"High on You" suggests that the singer's love for another person is a
substitute for a chemical means of obtaining a "high." This idea has been
used in songs before (e.g., "You're My Drug" by The Dukes of Stratosphear,
from 1988) but knowing that the members of Flick are religious suggests that
the object of the singer's "high" is not of this world. ("I Like You," on
Flick's EP, could also be seen as being about God.) The chorus' rhyming of
"I get by" and "I get high" recalls The Beatles' "With a Little Help From My
Friends" (1967). Orchestral strings are also quite prominent near the end
of this song, perhaps intended to evoke an "otherworldly" feeling, or a nod
to the popularity of orchestration among psychedelic groups (Beatles, Moody
Blues, etc.). The mellowness and beauty of the lyrics is another good
example of why I like Flick; even without the strings and effects, this
would remain a beautiful song.
The organ sound in "One Hundred Days" is reminiscent of the organ in
"Everybody Else is Wrong" by Utopia (1980) which was a pastiche of The
Beatles' psychedelic period. The acoustic guitar playing at the beginning
of "Pink Boo" is reminiscent of David Bowie's "Space Oddity" (1969).
Perhaps Flick's phrase "Electric Pear" has its origins in Donovan's
reference to an upcoming "electrical banana" fad in his song "Mellow Yellow"
(1967). "Electric Pear" was probably the first Flick song that I realized I
really liked, and one of the bits I liked best was when the "opera" singer
in the background kept getting cut off by the lead singer. For some reason,
that struck me as a kind of Beatlesque touch.
"Milky Way" and "I Like You" are examples of straight-forward pop-rock,
appearing on an EP which one reviewer called "the American version of the
Brit-pop genre." One of Flick's earliest efforts was a cover of The Who's
"Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere" (which Bowie also once covered, by the way) where
Flick manage to sound a bit like The Who. The singing at the end of "Milky
Way" reminds me a bit of Roger Daltrey, when Trevor lets loose with a "here"
of surprising force and power, and again when one of the penultimate "I like
it up here" lines is sung in a different key.
These older influences are perhaps not immediately noticed by most
listeners. When I first heard the chorus of "Freezer Burnt," my immediate
thought was: "This sounds a lot like Smashing Pumpkins." When I've tried to
describe Flick's sound to people, I've used phrases like "a mellow Smashing
Pumpkins," "Smashing Pumpkins meets the Beatles," "psychedelic grunge rock,"
and other inadequete phrases. Flick's music also seems to draw influences
from some current alternative rock bands, not just the old stuff outlined
above. Some of the quieter guitar picking in "Electric Pear" is similar to
the sound in Smashing Pumpkins' "Today" (1993). Radiohead uses a sudden
crunch
of isolated guitar sound to punctuate moments in their song "Creep" (1993),
and Flick uses a similar style of guitar "punctuation" in both "Electric
Pear" and "Maybe Someday." There is a sort of machine-gun guitar bit which
can be found in both "Electric Pear" (at 0.08 and 2.55) and Stone Temple
Pilots' "Vasoline" (1994) -- again, used as a kind of musical "punctuation."
"Wishing Well" begins almost like an old lullaby, but the majority of the
track is set to the backdrop of crashing waves of guitar. While the opening
lines of the song bring to mind an old-fashioned musical style of longing,
structured around a quaint literary device like the wishing well, the
subsequent lines reflect a more modern straight-forward desperation: "What I
want, what I want...is
yooouuuuu!"
Punk rock also seems to have had some influence on Flick. The middle of
"Anthem" that goes "Can't leave now and another day is on the way" is
accompanied by a loud biting guitar sound which owes more to punk than Pink
Floyd. Perhaps one of the innovations that Nirvana popularized was the
combination of the slow, soft-sounding song with the screamed guitar-heavy
rock song. Instead of being two separate songs in different styles, the two
styles were joined in one song that would move from soft to heavy and back
again, like a musical form of manic depression. Flick songs like "Wishing
Well," "There You Go," "Radio Song," and "Maybe Someday" reflect that 1990s
style of combining soft passages, sung close to the microphone and just
above a whisper, with hard choruses shouted loud and clear.
By demonstrating an appreciation of pre-1990s techniques in their songs, as
well as using modern approaches which appeal to them, Flick succeeds in
providing a synthesis between old and new, something which appeals to
current tastes as well as reflecting more enduring ones. I'm hard-pressed
to tell if the wonderfully distorted guitars that appear in many Flick songs
like "Electric Pear" and "The End" reflect a new style or an old one.
Therefore, the synthesis produces something timeless. The occasional
scrapings of guitars and other sonic experiments in Flick songs could be a
throwback to an untapped and near-forgotten legacy or small steps forward
into uncharted waters. Their frequent willingness to employ classical
instruments reveals an artistic and ambitious approach, unwilling to be
confined by the conventional guitars-and-drum rock sound. Considering the
relative youth of its members, Flick's achievements in this respect are
refreshing and impressive. One can only wonder where Flick's musical
investigations will take them next. Hopefully to the top of the charts!