Customer Reviews

Transmissions From the Satellite Heart

5 star:		(19)
4 star:		(12)
3 star:		(3)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

I bought this cd in 1995 when i was a kid in 5th grade, trying desperately to fit in. Another kid who was, at the time, an authority on what was cool, told me a little bit about a new CD that he thought was great. Of course, i rushed out and bought it. This was a rare instance of where the trendsetter actually knew what he was talking about.
It is absolutely one of the greatest albums I have ever owned. Certainly in contention for my favorite. Most rock snobs like me can pinpoint the album or a couple albums that truly solidified music as the thing that interested them. For me, this is that album. Somehow, even then, having only listened to the oldies that my parents played on the radio, I was completely absorbed by how unique the sound is. It is an exercise in contrast, between layers of nearly-unlistenable (in that beautiful, irresistible way) noise, and a guitar and vocals with the mid way up and the bass and treble way down. Just like it's on a radio. By the way, I find that one of the most interesting themes in rock music is the band's relationship and treatment of the radio and its place in music and history. This disc can be regarded, I think, as a concept album with this theme at the core. Think the quality of Elvis Costello's "Radio, Radio," and you get the idea.
It is an amazing combination of folk-rock, fuzz-rock and the wonderful 80s indie scene; one that is sensitive and reverent to the traditions of each. It shows pangs of the electronic, avant-garde folk rock that the Lips would become, as evident on Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, but is more grounded in that sort of mid-90s neo-classic rock thing that was going on.
I agree with the other reviewers (it's impossible not to) that "She Don't Use Jelly" is no indicator of the sound of the cd as a whole...except for the 40 seconds of a needle running in the same groove at the end of the record at the end of the track, before it goes on to thenext song. This is not to say that the song is out of place in the slightest, it is simply more straightforward than the rest of the album. Nearly every song overflows with hooks, if you know where to look for them, and Drozd's Bonham-esque drums frequently provide a cool contrast to understated guitars and noise effects. The contrast makes it all the cooler when the whole band starts rocking out together. I could fill the 1000 word limit of this review on each individual song, but it's really enough to say that as experimental as this album is, it never loses sight of songcraft: the tracks are clearly constructed, and it makes the avant-garde accessible. God, i love this album.
Wayne Coyne's vocals are going to be more than likely an acquired taste, but even if you dont like the strained, dissonant quality (leftover from 80's Indiedom - think Meat Puppets' "Up On the Sun"), there's no denying that he is as earnest as he could possibly be.
Advice that I would give to the reviewers and listeners who have heard it and didnt like it, is to keep listening. Give it at least 5 or 7 listens all the way through, with some reflection time between each. This sounds like a pretty intense method just to like an album, but i promise, once you get it, you'll never take it out of your cd player.
In 10th grade, my all my cds were stolen. I had to start over, and I started collecting records. My tastes shifted for a while, and i listened to mostly stuff from the 60s and 70s,and started to see the last 15 years as a musical dark era. Fortunately, I came around after a few months, and realized how much i missed this album. I went out and bought it back, and it was like a homecoming. I think it would be hard for me to overrepresent the impact that this CD has had on my life and my music.

In other words, yeah, I recommend it.

So I'm sitting on a hill in Buckeye Lake, near Columbus, Ohio and it's July or August, in '93 or '94, the Lollapalooza Tour of that year (this will prove to be my one and only 'palooza experience really worth remembering). Two hippies in front of us at the sidestage offer up their joint. My friend and I take a hit or two, as we hear the opening bass line to "Under Pressure" by Queen and Bowie (a song which Sir Vanilla of the Ice turned into a short-lived career). I notice this guy on stage, the bass player, who looks like he just got off work at the local gas station, what, with his blue jumpsuit and all. And that hair! The drummer is ferocious, sipping back a beer with one hand while the other beats the snare to death, his foot pounding the heck out of the bass drum. The lead guiarist, who sports a different kind of wild hair, is all over the map musically, and I can't fathom how one guitar can make so much racket. And lest we forget the singer with the flame colored hair, who stands at the mic with backwards bravado, who seems wounded and sensitive with a delivery I've never quite heard before anywhere. "What is this?" I wondered at the time. "Is this the punchline to a sick joke that I'm not in on?"

That was my first encounter with the Lips. It's made an indelible mark on my psyche, and I still can't believe "Jelly" made it on to MTV, that the song made the Lips just a blip on the top 40 radio screen, that they opened for Candlebox (who?)at the time and appeared on 90210. What a strange world we live in, huh?

My friend bought this album soon after that concert. The cover photo is pretty telling of what's inside. Notice the distorted manipulation of the photos, especially the elongated speaker. "Transmissions" is definitely a distorted take on the pop/psychedelia motif. Please don't ONLY judge this album solely on the merit of the one-hit wonder status of "Jelly;" there's so much to enjoy here, most of it for me recalling that warm August (or was it July?)day when I first heard and saw the Lips, before Wayne was called a "genius" in the Brian Wilson mode, before "The Soft Bulletin" made them the hip critics' choice. This is the first brick laid in the wall of sound that the Lips currently employ. From beginning to end, this album is all fuzzed out bliss and acid-drenched sunshine; it's pleasant pop music too. A disclaimer on the cd asks the listener to "Please play loud." I advise you to purchase this cd and do just that. Oh, and enter at your own risk.

This album came out around my Freshmen year in college so I was exposed to it before the She Don't Use Jelly song took off. It took me a while to get into it, but once I gave the album a chance it struck me how different the album was and how talented the musicians are. This came out in the grunge 90's and I can't really think of anyone doing anything this psychedelic or weird at the time. I mean no one writes songs about moths in incubators, or zebras running into space ships. It's complete weirdness over the catchiest melodies and music. Also, the layers upon layers of guitar and sound towards the end of moth in the incubator just blows me away every time. Over ten years later it doesn't surprise me one bit that the lips have come out with brilliant studio albums, and the incredible Zaireeka experiment. Few posess their level of imagination or talent. I would also say this album isn't for everyone, but then again most ground breaking albums aren't.

How does one go about describing this band? It's sort of an arty alt-psych-rock band, with loads of dementia, off-the-wall lyrics and brilliant pop sensebilities.
While it may seem like some slightly left-of-center alt-rock on the surface, this album is more. 1960's inspired distorted psychedelia is layered subtly throughout the album, accenting the off-key but effective and emotionally charged vocals. The hooks in tracks like "Turn it On" and the silly but well-written "She Don't Use Jelly" are some of the catchiest to emerge from 90's rock. While there are many moments of demented psych-rock brilliance, the Lips are also not afraid to tone it down. "Chewin' On the Apple of You Eye," with its folksy acoustic guitar and yearning vocals, is actually quite moving. "Plastic Jesus" has more mellow acoustic strumming, this time in a traditional country style. Still, even these tracks aren't free from weirdness. "Apple" is covered in a thin film of static fuzz, and "Plastic Jesus" has some sounds, well, that I just can't figure out.
This is a pretty strange album. It's quite experimental, yet catchy. It's heavy and demented, yet serene and mellow. And, it's about the only time I've ever heard off-key vocals that add to the music, rather than take away from it. If you have an open mind, and an appreciation for quirky brilliance, this album should find a home in your collection.

As a huge Lips fan, i can easily say that this is not the band at their best. It has She Don't Use Jelly, and a few other great songs (my favourite is Pilot Can) but most of these songs seem to get old and boring very quickly. For the best early 90's Lips experience, get Future Head or Priest Driven Ambulance.

In the early 90's, it was possible for all sorts of strange bands to be signed to major labels. With noise-mongers ranging from the dark post-punk of Sonic Youth to the chaotic bursts insanity from The Boredoms, it seemed as if perhaps these strange, but wonderful artists might gain more exposure. Sadly, this wasn't the case, but it was still interesting to see records like The Flaming Lips' Transmissions From The Satellite Heart released by a giant corporation (Warner Bros. in this case). Strangely enough, Transmissions is a less accessible record than the Lips' major label debut Hit To Death In The Future Head, although Transmissions features the Lips' fluke hit "She Don't Use Jelly." To anyone who bought this for the strange, yet sunny "Jelly," they were possibly taken aback by the manipulated guitar fuzz, tape loops, and lo-fi acoustic excursions. There are a few pop gems in the vein of "Jelly" including "Turn It Up" and "Superhumans," but songs like "Oh My Pregnant Head" and "Slow Nerve Action" as as bizarre as their titles may suggest. While Hit To Death... had some interesting orchestral touches melded in with the abundance of guitar noise, Transmissions is a much more stripped-down affair, focusing on creating an atmosphere that perhaps not surprisingly hints at mind-altering substances. Transmissions From The Satellite Heart is an artistic statement by one of the nineties' most relentlessly creative bands, not just an album of weird filler book-ending a hit single. It's too bad nobody really started to realize just how brilliant the Lips were until The Soft Bulletin. Fans of new Flaming Lips work might be a tad confused, but it's a fun ride for anyone who thought maybe the Meat Puppets and The Jesus And Mary Chain should have jammed together.

The Flaming Lips are, and have always been, American originals. This LP is no exception: it's noisy, goofy, strange, catchy, unpredictable and thoroughly entertaining. In short, I'd say this is arguably their very best, and they've made so many great records I'd simply advise the casual fan to listen to them all, but to start with this one.

"Turn it On" is pop genius and reason enough to purchase the entire album. As for the rest, they're all totally timeless and unique. For many, the "Yoshimi" LP was their first taste of the Flaming Lips. If you liked that one, buy this next. Then maybe go for "The Soft Bulletin". I've owned this LP since the early nineties and I find that I still go to it once a week or so--if that's not an indication of how great this record is, I don't know what is.

"Transmissions..." is the record that showed the Flaming Lips were basically a great guitar pop band, albeit a very strange one. Sure, this is the one that has the big hit ("She Don't Use Jelly") but this is one of those albums that, cliched as it may sound, needs to be listened to in its entireity to really be appreciated. I'm not sure why, but I enjoy this album best during the late summer/early fall time of the year; something about driving around listening to "Turn it On" loudly brings back a certain carefree point in time. The skronk and squall of the Lips' earlier recordings is very much present, but the hooks are clearer and the songwriting seems less like the product of two-day LSD binges. Some of the best tracks here include the wistful "Superhumans," which hints at the pop majesty of the Lips' later work, "Pilot Can at the Queer of God" and the industrial-sized grooves of "Slow Nerve Action."

This, in my opinion, is the best---and i like almost all, except that really long song on telepathic surgery---Flaming Lips album. The cohesion of all particles blend amazingly. The burnt-out nonsensical lyrics, the rawness in Wayne's voice, the unparalleled strangeness of the strings, the vast array of mood presented from song to song: sadness, joy, lightheartedness, longing, boredom. This is an album i have came back to again and again over the years, and it always pleases.

A bit more uneven than later Lips albums, but with several gems. Turn It On is an amazing opener, and She Don't Use Jelly is my new favorite Lips song (I actually bought this album on a whim after hearing them play Jelly live).