Originally composed to accompany a Wayne Coyne art
installation, King’s Mouth is a children’s fantasy yarn about an enormous baby
prince who grows up to save the kingdom from a cataclysmic thunderstorm from
the sun.
Or something. But neither its backstory, nor actual internal
story, matter much. King’s Mouth is possibly The Flaming Lips’ most upliftingly
utopian work since Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots, an album whose themes of
heroism and sacrifice it echoes, and whose symphonic space-pop it revisits
(with added tweeting sparrows, yowling cats and tolling bells). The narration,
delivered in the warmly mournful tones of Mick Jones, suggests that although
The Clash famously shunned Top Of The Pops, they’d have been perfect for
Jackanory.
