Wayne Coyne: Hello, Adam!

Nashville Cream: Hey, man. How are you doing?

WC: I’m good. Where you calling from?

NC: Nashville, TN.

WC: Oh, awesome. We were just in Memphis. We’re worried about that river. We’re worried about that river over there, man. The Mississippi was gonna fuckin’ blow up this weekend.

NC: Yeah, it’s supposed to crest in a couple of days.

WC: It’s weird. It was giant when we were there. I was worried that, as we were unloading all our stuff later on in the night, it was gonna come and overtake us. Our truck almost went into the river. Anyway [laughs].

NC: Yeah, we had a big flood here last year so we know what that’s all about. Water woes.

WC: Yeah, yeah, the kind of weather we used to have, like, fuckin’ 10 years ago, I think it has shifted slightly east. I kinda feel like Arkansas and Tennessee are starting to get what we used to get — more tornadoes and stuff.

NC: Yeah, it’s scary stuff. But let’s talk about the positive for a minute [laughs].

WC: That’s all positive [laughs]. Weather is awesome. You know, fuck, it’s great to talk about things you can’t control, you know?

NC: Yeah. And it’s nice today, so I’ll take that as I can get it. Anyway, when people ask me about this phoner, I’m going to tell them that your call arrived in a bubble from outer space. Is that cool?

WC: [Laughs.] Well, that’s even better. Yeah. I mean, because everybody knows that we’re all joining together in the collective lie to make me sound cooler than I am. So thank you, Adam.

NC: I remember you saying that on stage at Coachella years ago when I saw you guys there — when you did the bubble stage intro you implored that the crowd say that you came from a bubble in outer space.

WC: Well, yeah! Because, in a sense, that’s what we want out of these experiences. We want to be able to go to work the next day and [when] someone is sitting there saying, “What did you do this weekend? I just watched TV” and you’d say “I went to a fucking show, and a fucking weird guy from Oklahoma somehow descended from outer space and landed on our heads.” And then they’ll go, “Wow, really?” And you’re like, “Yeah really.” Instead of, like, “Some dude from Oklahoma found a bubble, a plastic bubble in Italy, brought it to California and blew it up on stage.”

We don’t need to make the world any more normal and boring than it already is. This enhancement that we do by saying, “Yes, there is magic out there. But we have to create the magic” — that’s part of The Flaming Lips’ world. Even this music we make, it’s made with instruments, and computers, and by people sitting in boring rooms. But we hope that it invokes this world of magic that, again, I think can only be there if we make it be there. It’s not really there, as we all know. The world isn’t really magic. The world is full of Osama bin Ladens that want to kill us, but, you know, we have to remember that we make it special, and magic, and absurd.

NC: Yeah. If I said that your call literally came outer space, there are fans that would believe me just because they really, really want to. Because it seems like you’re trying to cultivate an air of fantasy with the band, where anything is possible.

WC: Well, I think all groups should do that. When people are young. Not when they’re 5, you know, but when they’re young enough to know enough about the world, and the world becomes interesting, and dangerous, and sexy, and freaky, and all of that, the world is open to people, and a lot of things are possible. I think that’s when rock groups like The Flaming Lips have their most power — when people are young and they don’t know what’s possible.

I talk to people, and I don’t know where you stand on this, Adam, but I talk to a lot of people who believe that UFOs are still going to come down. For me, I’m 50 years old and, you know, I don’t really think that these types of UFOs exist. I think there’s an unknowable aspect of the universe, but I don’t think a UFO is going to come down here and land and tell us anything. But I talk to people that are 20 years old who think they are. And I can see in them that they’re still open to all these possibilities. And they’ll find out as it goes what’s worthy of their time, and energy, and belief, and what isn’t, but I like this idea that their minds are still free to say that the world is fantastic. So when I’m standing in front of most of our audience — most of the people are younger than me — I say anything is possible, and I know they don’t believe it, but it invokes this idea that, yeah, music is magic and even these experiences that we’re having have an element of magic to them, because it’s my life and I’m the one having them happen to me. So, yeah, I think all that is important to me. I’m not saying that it should be important to all groups, but to me it’s important because that’s what I want my life to be too.

NC: In terms of things that are a reality, though, you guys have definitely written your own ticket when it comes to your career. You guys are a band that has been around for almost 30 years, and the last 10 have been your most successful. That’s pretty unusual. Things like Embryonic debuting in the Billboard top 10, etc. — and at a time when most bands have really struggled. What is it that has allowed that to happen for you? Is it growth in the material, in the records? Is it the evolution of the live show? Is it the loyalty of your label — letting you get away with things like Zaireeka, etc.?

WC: Well, I think it’s just a lot of dumb luck, really. I think a lot of people my age would get to this [point] where they start to loss their energy. Or they’re burned out and it shows in whatever they’re doing. If your art is a true representation of the way you are, I think you see that in a lot of artists, that they’re running out of energy. Pursuing your ideas is all about energy. If something is too hard, you simply go, “Oh fuck. I don’t want to do that. I don’t have the energy for it.” For me, you know, I’m very lucky. I’ve gone into my second leg of my life, I’ve kind of become younger — now I’m not so insecure, and I can do more shit, and I kind of know not that I know what to do but I’m not afraid of it as much as I used to be afraid of it. I think that’s gotta be part of [our success]. But a lot of is just dumb luck — the things that we really wanted to do, starting even with Zaireeka and The Soft Bulletin in the late '90s.

You know, we’d been a band already for a long time — since 1983 — and [in the beginning] you don’t know what to do. There’s music that you love, and we set out to do music that we love, but you love so many things that your music could be anything. I think it takes a long time for groups to say, “This is what I want to do,” and actually be able to go towards [it] and not be distracted by all the other great things that happen in the meantime. So when we made these records like Zaireeka and The Soft Bulletin, we knew that we were saying, “This is our music.” And I don’t know if it’s good or horrible, but we knew that we were doing this version of our music that really came from somewhere inside of ourselves. But, I have to say, it’s always a big risk because I don’t always know if it says anything, or is any good, or is doing anything. But you have to say, “Look, this is what we should do. We should just follow this intuitive nature — the intuitive nature that makes you attracted to the women you like, makes you want to fuck who you want to fuck, makes you want to eat what you want to eat, makes you like a color that you like. It’s all this intuitive shit that you have no control over, but I would also say that’s where some of the worst art comes from — people being just absolutely self-indulgent, saying “I like it. Fuck you.” And I don’t ever want to say that I’m saying “fuck you” to anybody but, you know, we’re just going, “Fuck it. We like it and we’re going to do it.” And that’s why I say we’re so lucky.

When we decided to not worry about what we did, the world said, “Oh good, we love that.” And, even still, how much The Soft Bulletin is embraced. I know when were making it we thought, for certain, this would be the end of us, because we knew we were making this stupid, self-indulgent, self-reflective music. We weren’t being cool. We were being vulnerable and, you know, it showed us, didn’t it? It showed us we’re so stupid to be cool, but fuck dude, it’s hard not to wanna be cool [laughs].

NC: Obviously The Soft Bulletin has aged well given you guys have been performing it in full lately. Are you guys planning on doing it at the show here?

WC: No, I don’t think so, but I’m not the last word on that. I don’t always know. I know that we’re gong to be doing some, so even if we’re just doing one Soft Bulletin show, it’s the same amount of preparation that we have to do, so I’m not always positive. I would be more positive if you talked to me, like, four days before the show.

NC: Well what could we expect to see you guys bust out?

WC: Well, we try to do this overview — which in no way diminishes its importance — of what would be considered the Flaming Lips “greatest hits.” You know, “Do You Realize?” from stuff to The Soft Bulletin, to some other stuff from Yoshimi, to brand new stuff, to stuff off Embryonic. There’s probably about eight songs that, if you’re a diehard Flaming Lips fan, it would almost be like, “You have to play those, and then you can do whatever you want.” And those (songs) would be, you know, “Race for the Prize,” “She Don’t Use Jelly” and “Realize,” — there’s a few of them — but there’s a big area of the show that it’s really just music that we only play during the show, because it’s big performance [antics]. It isn’t as if we ever say, “here’s what we’re going to play.” You know, there’s some nights where we’re playing festivals where we know we’re playing to 100,000 people out there that aren’t really just there to see you. [Then], if you’re playing in a theatre where there’s, say, 5,000 people or so, you can play for a couple of hours, and talk to people, and you can give them little moments, and so, you know, a lot of it is just “here’s what’s happening tonight, and here’s what the audience is,” and there’s a big variety of moments all during the show that are gauged to work specifically for that moment. So it’s never as if we’re on auto-pilot. But that being said, there’s a lot of things we do that we know, if the electricity works, and your hearing works, this is going to be fantastic. You can rest assured that, no matter what is happening, if The Flaming Lips are here and it’s all working, it’s gonna be pretty great. And then that other thing kicks in —the audience.

The audience is so responsible for “that thing.” In just the past couple of days, a friend came up from Dallas. He saw a group play in Dallas, then drove up to Oklahoma City and saw the same group play in Oklahoma City the next night. Well, the audience in Dallas was not very receptive to this group and it was kind of boring. So he came up saying I don’t know if this show is going to be very good tonight because I just saw it and it wasn’t very good. And then we saw the same group play here to an audience that was on drugs, and they were young, and they were freaking out and dancing and wanted to fuck each other and all kinds of great shit, and it was a great show. And it was literally the same band playing the same music, but the atmosphere was so charged and so different that that made the show here great and the show in Dallas so boring. So I know it’s the audience, and I know it’s the atmosphere, so we immediately kick that in and say, “Let’s fucking get that going.”

NC: A few weeks ago I was interviewing Dean Ween and he was talking to me about how they vary their setlist every night, and how he takes into account the band’s mood, etc., and he brought you guys up as an example. He said you can’t “come out and pretend, like The Flaming Lips do every night, like ‘we’re the happiest guys in the world’,” but can you?

WC: Well, I don’t think we’re saying we’re the happiest guys in the world. I mean, and this is no slag on them, [but] I would say, for me, I’ve been to concerts where, because I live in Oklahoma City, which is not considered a very important market for big groups sometimes, I’ve stood in front of groups and gave them, for me, at the time, when I was young, a lot of money and a lot of time, and they sucked, because they simply didn’t feel like playing that day.

I treat being in the Flaming Lips as a serious profession. I’m very lucky that people give me their time and their money, and I would treat it the way I would want a dentist to treat me, I treat it the way I want an airline pilot to treat me. You know, I don’t want to be on an airplane if the guy says, “I don’t fucking feel like doing this today. I don’t really give a shit.” I want to be on an airplane where the guy says, “It doesn’t matter how I feel. I asked these people to be here, they give me their money. I don’t want to go to a dentist who doesn’t give a shit about how much nerve gas he has given me and then I pass out. So my attitude is like, even though this is about art and it’s about the moment, it’s also to me, I’m not like that. I wouldn’t invite you to a party at my house and then get here and say, “Dude, I’m kinda having a mood. Fuck you.” I would be like, “I can get over my mood. You’re here, and we can make this great.” The Flaming Lips are saying, “It’s not about our mood. It’s about this music, and this music is bigger than we are, and more important than we are and we’re lucky that we get to play this music, and this music will invoke other things that hopefully can overtake our little moment, this little internal moment, and we can all be something else for the moment. So, yeah, I’m not saying that they have to live their life that way, [but] when I go to play, I’m there for the audience. I don’t give a shit. And the bands that I love the most are the same way. I don’t give a shit about the monitors, I don’t give a shit that it’s raining, and I don’t give a shit that I just ran into some bitchy woman backstage — I’m here for you. And if you guys wanna rock, we’re gonna rock.

NC: Do you enjoy playing festivals more, or theaters more? I’ve seen you play a lot of festivals, and it seems like you’re the kind of band that thrives on the size of the audience.

WC: I like variety. I like doing different things, you know? So I think, if we just played giant festivals all the time, even though we wouldn’t begrudge it, I think it you know it get tedious. Now, I think if we just played the smaller things all the time, it would be boring [too]. We set up our lives so that we get to do new, crazy, different things all the time. So yeah we do big things we do small things we do all kinds of different things. The way that we thrive is we think it’s interesting, we think it’s new and it’s different. And it doesn’t always work but, you know, you can’t do anything new if you just want it to work all the time. So now we do all of it.

I think some of our greatest shows have been in these places that hold just a couple thousand people because, frankly, those sorts of venues allow everybody to have virtually the same experience all at the same time. At big festivals, the people at the front are having a drastically different experience from the people at the back. So you’re trying to do a thing that can reach everybody and have some impact. Whereas, our show in a theatre that holds say 5,000 people, it’s pretty devastating, because the people in the front are having the same [experience] as the people in the back.

NC: I saw you guys do the Dark Side of the Moon adaptation, I guess you could say, at Bonnaroo last year and, obviously, that was well received. Are there any other records — besides your own records — that you’ve thought about doing that with?

WC: Well, I mean, we didn’t really even think about that one very much, it kind of all happened spontaneously, and again, that was kind of just dumb luck that it was so well received, that it worked and we were able to pull it off live. There are a lot of elements that [make] you just go, “Fuck it. We’re just gonna do it and not think about it very much.” But having said that, once we did that, we did kind of think, “I don’t know if we’d do that again,” because there’s a big you know unknown that happens afterwards.

And a lot of these records aren’t as popular and, I don’t know, as timeless as Dark Side of the Moon. There are just some themes, and some things about Dark Side of the Moon. And it’s popularity — there are a lot of reasons why you can do something like Dark Side of the Moon and even though, you know, not everybody is going to know it, it’s so well known that you kind of don’t feel like you’re doing strange, obscure music. We’ve thought about doing Black Sabbath’s first record in the same way, but there’s elements of that record, that a lot of people don’t know a couple of the songs, as popular as it is. And it’s not a themed record in the same way. It doesn’t embody so much Flaming Lips-“isms” as the Pink Floyd stuff does.

I think a lot of people could look at Pink Floyd and say, you know, “There’s Pink Floyd, there’s Radiohead, there’s Flaming Lips, and there’s groups like that, whereas I don’t necessarily think people could look at Black Sabbath and say, “That’s The Flaming Lips.” I mean, we see that because we see all possibilities in music. But our audience wouldn’t necessarily see all Black Sabbath, all the time.

NC: Well, for what it’s worth, I’d be into see you play Sabbath.

WC: Yeah, well, I know, because we’re freaks [laughs]. That being said, we’ve done that song "War Pigs."

NC: Oh, I’ve seen you do that and it was incredible.

WC: Yeah. It’s awesome.

NC: Speaking of audiences though. These days there isn’t really a stigma anymore, at least in the way there once was, over licensing songs to commercials and things like that. But you guys were doing that at a time when it was still seen as a threat to “cool,” or a threat to credibility. But over the years I feel like, often, I’ll see bands talking about their decisions to license songs, etc., and they’ll site you guys as an example of justification, saying, “The Flaming Lips did it, so it must be OK.” But was a negative reaction to doing that ever much of concern to you guys?

WC: Well, yeah. In the beginning, when we were first approached about these sorts of things — and, I mean, everybody does it because they’re getting money — [you] think “it’s cool,” but then the other side of you immediately says, “Well, isn’t this a bunch of sell-out shit?” Even before we were being approached about it, people would talk about when the Beatles did the song “Revolution” for, I believe it was, a Nike commercial. And I remember there being real conversations with people about, “Is this bogus?” And I was like, “I don’t give a shit. I think that song is awesome. I heard it on TV and I thought it was awesome hearing it on TV, hearing it on the radio, I mean, just hearing it I thought.” And people said, “I know but, man, it fucks up the song for me.” And I thought, for me, personally, it didn’t do anything to the song. I like the song. It didn’t make me go out and buy their tennis shoes and it didn’t make me hate the song. [So] what did I care? And this is what I think everybody should do, use your own experience. If a song you heard, it changed your perception of it, don’t do that with your music. But if you had my experience with it, I could say if you love “She Don’t Use Jelly” or “Do You Realize?” I could see singing it being used for an SUV commercial and saying, “I still love the song, who gives a shit, you know?” … [But] if it’s gonna bother you and you’re gonna feel like a sell-out, I’d say don’t do it. But there is no easy answer. You know, we did some of these commercials and they play for three years and no one says anything, and then suddenly someone says “Dude, isn’t this bullshit? You know, that you gotta put your music out there.” and I’m like, “No, if it’s bullshit to you then maybe it is, but if it’s not bullshit to us then maybe it isn’t.” But I mean it’s all kinda up [in the air], there is no real answer. You kinda have to be brave and say, “Here’s how I feel and I’m gonna do what I think I want to do.”

NC: Back before this era of the band took shape, were you worried that “She Don’t Use Jelly” would tag you as ‘90s one-hit wonders?

WC: Yeah, yeah. You know, but only once it becomes a hit. Before it’s a hit you think, “Wouldn’t it be great if everybody in the world knew a couple of your songs?” I mean, we would play with bands all the time that would have a song that the whole audience would know. And then when it happens to you, I know it’s stupid, but you think, “Well, why would you worry about that?” Because you worry about what people think. I mean, I worry about having bad breath. And so, yeah, a certain part of our audience has no idea we're this experimental, underground group. They just know us from playing at The Peach Pit on Beverly Hills 90210, But I think as we've gone along, we see how you don't really get to pick and choose what you are.

If you’re lucky, things happen and you’re doing them. You are what has happened as opposed to what you think you are. And that really says more about us than anything — that we’re willing to go on Beverly Hills 90210 and say, “Fuck it. I don’t care what people think it means. I want to know for myself. You know, fuck it, I want to have a hit record, I don’t care what people say. I want to know for myself. I want to make an experimental record. I don’t care what people think. I want to know for myself.” That’s what the Flaming Lips say, “I want to know for myself.” And that’s what I think our audience says. They don’t listen to “She Don’t Use Jelly” and say, “Oh, well they’re just this sort-of-band. I want to know for myself. And that’s what you have to believe you know, that you don’t want to live by someone else’s rules. It’s like everybody says that, but it’s hard to do. You have to get lucky, you know?