It’s possible that Oczy Mlody will disappoint those looking for an easy hit, or the sound of old-school Lips, but for those willing to persist and explore, it’s a work of nuance and intelligence.
Oczy Mlody doesn't overwhelm or immediately impress, but instead invites listeners into its elusory world of crossed senses, unassigned values, and blind turns, hoping they end up in the same place Coyne thinks he's headed: to an idyllic future state that feels just like the past.
With Oczy Mlody, The Flaming Lips have managed to take us on apocalyptic journey that’s also fun, which is no mean feat. If the 'real' end of the world is half as fun, we’ll all be alright.
On Oczy Mlody Oklahoma City’s finest manage to build a bridge to the rest of us norms, making some of their must listenable and straight-up lovely music along the way.
Some of their sillier excesses may jar ever so slightly and fans may well feel the absence of a true pop banger ... In every other aspect, however, this is The Flaming Lips on top of their game: refracting the weirdness of the world through a youthful sense of awe and wonder.
This is the most vital Lips record in a while and, true to their paradoxical style, is one of their subtlest, too.
They’ve managed to meld together the grand themes of ‘The Soft Bulletin’ and ‘Yoshimi…’ with some of the experimentation of ‘Embryonic’ and ‘The Terror’, and it makes for a fascinating return.
Save for a few moments, it’s generally slow and somber. Sure, the imagery is some of their most blacklight poster-inspired to date, but even the most druggy reference isn’t without a touch of sadness, a party lingering on too long as the morning starts to break.
As they move on from the crises that inspired The Terror, they bridge the abrasive sound that started on 2009's Embryonic and the try-anything whimsy of their collaboration with Miley Cyrus in ways that are surprisingly complex.
While Oczy Mlody finds the Lips still eager to stretch the parameters of their aesthetic 30-plus years into the game, this time, it leaves them sounding a little distended and shapeless.
‘Oczy Mlody’ is the sonic equivalent of a deserted space-ship adrift in the cosmos, with Coyne as the lonely repair-bot dusting the diodes. A psych rock Passengers, then, rather than Barbarella.
In stark contrast to the razor-sharp sense of purpose and unity of its predecessors, the album's meandering lack of focus soon becomes impossible to ignore.
Unfortunately, Oczy Mlody fails to keep building on the momentum of its studio album predecessors. Though the record builds on The Terror's cerebral paranoia, its occasional forays into Casiotone drum beats and nonsensical lyrics make it an uneven, confusing effort.
The album is a bitter pill at first but it pays off to tune in and turn on.
The band has become pros at surprises, and their new record Oczy Mlody is their biggest surprise yet: it’s a disappointment.
Oczy Mlody feels less like the group’s 14th grand artistic statement and more like a minor footnote to a once-great band’s recent output.
Oczy Mlody at times feels like a pale imitation of The Flaming Lips, by someone who only knew of the band through their reputation for quirky antics and hyperactive, costumed live shows. The problem is that whilst it occasionally gets the stylistic elements right, there’s very little substance.