In a parallel universe, Glastonbury would be a futuristic life-force, bereft of such tawdry complications as crowds, drug-dismantled minds, poisonous food and the inevitable demands of the human body. Headliners in 2003, if not every year, would be The Flaming Lips.
Currently surfing a breaking wave that has flooded their recent history, Wayne Coyne and co are this year's most prized, unique and visionary 'mainstream' draw, following the irresistible embrace of their last two records - 'The Soft Bulletin' and 'Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots'.
Of course, their appeal goes way beyond pure sonics. This is a theatrical show of extravagant imagination, that the Lips intend to push into full 3-D affect and impact in this edifying climate, which captures them as considerably more than just a warm-up to Radiohead.
Naturally, they pull it off. But not withstanding some nagging difficulties. Emerging in the company of a veritable zoo of human animals, Coyne, Steven Drozd and Michael Ivins stand tall to the majestic, immense strains of 'Carmina Burana'.
The ensuing 'Race For The Prize' crashes into view, a graphically fitting snapshot of both man's demand for progress and The Lips' equally brave bid to soundtrack such ambition on record. The following 'Do You Realize??', 'The Gash', a deranged 'Lightning Strikes The Postman' and a bedazzled run through Pink Floyd's 'Breathe' reach out and clasp our outstretched hands like the alien landing in 'Close Encounters', only not quite as supernaturally, obviously.
However, the untouchable Coyne stretches just too far in his bid to enrapture the crowd. His voice, never a strong point, is utterly shot, sounding like Neil Young singing through a straw. Plus, his 21st century preacher reinvention - here encompassing touching breakdowns of 'Yoshimi' and a crowd-propelled happy birthday - may fill the heart, but they also grate the head in their absence of the musical veracity that sweats from every pore of The Lips.
However, these are mere quibbles. There is little question today - particularly for those up until now unfamiliar with the world of The Flaming Lips - that modern rock with this sort of ambition is all but extinct.
