The Claypool Lennon Delirium just released their ‘prog-adelia’ album, The Great Parrot-Ox and the Golden Egg of Empathy, on May 1st. This is the duo’s third collaboration, and it comes a whopping 7 years after their last hit EP. It’s a concept album with 14 songs that tackle the current discourse bubbling around AI, environmentalism, and related mortality-defying themes.
In the dystopic land of Cliptopia, a billionaire CEO has created an A.I. robot named Cliptron. Cliptron is hungry for control – and his creator, for money. The artificially intelligent being begins turning every resource (including humans) into paperclips. Luckily, the son of Cliptron’s creator is determined to stop his destruction. This is the concept that lies within The Delirium’s new album. Sean Lennon and Les Claypool are blatantly referencing the Paperclip Maximizer theory here, and it’s clear they want to share some perspective on this divisive emerging tech.
Throughout each song, Claypool uses his classic flange-focused, bendy bass. As usual, he plays with that dimensional wah-wah sound in such a unique way, showing once again that he truly is one of the world’s best and most dynamic bass players. Lennon adds some Beatles flair — clearly inspired by his late father and friend’s work. Meanwhile, Claypool gives the album his special touch of alternative weirdness. Together, they create an unparalleled sound in a similar fashion to their past work.
Though the pair have made an impressive and trippy genre-fusion album, the accompanying vocals are subpar. Previous works had a nice production mix, but The Great Parrot-Ox and the Golden Egg of Empathy leans into modern-day processing. In turn, the production sounds just a tad overdone.
Luckily, when Les Claypool sings, his voice sounds mostly au naturel. The production problem is soley an issue on songs where Lennon vocalizes. This isn’t even the case on a nice pair of speakers: Lennon’s voice sounds pleasantly warbly with clear, intentional reverb. But the speakers on regular mobile listening devices make him sound compressed and flat, taking away from each song’s quality.
The album opens with a 30-second prologue — entitled “Pro-Log” in jest — which sets the mood and establishes what’s to come. Next is “WAP (What a Predicament),” a well composed number that fuses alternative sound and synth noises.
“The Wake Up Call” follows suit, with lyrics that are just as pertinent and satirical as the previous number. This is where the ‘concept’ part of the album really takes off. The protagonist – the aforementioned billionaire’s artsy son – is introduced, and a story of greed and corporate overlording begins to unfold. Claypool sings “The Wake Up Call,” his vocals reminiscent of his solo work. The arrangement is fluid, and there’s plenty of fun movement that leads right into the next number, “Meat Machines.”
Credit: Ismael Quintanilla III / Shutterstock
“Meat Machines” is a melodramatic-sounding song. Orchestral backing vocals bust in early on; they’re overlaid across instruments played in a somber minor scale. There’s an impressive synth moment near the end. When it’s nearly over, the synthesizer gets trailed by a lead guitar. Then, the two instruments blend together in a mind-melding fashion.
“Troll Bait” starts, and it’s quite a switch-up from the three previous tracks. Though the story here is fuzzier, it’s a well-done piece that sounds similar to the work on Claypool’s “Highball with the Devil.” Claypool’s bass is the first thing listeners will hear. Soon his pleasantly Kermit-the-frog style voice booms in, chanting the words ‘troll bait’ over and over.
The highlight of “Troll Bait” comes halfway through the song in the form of a rich and tasty guitar solo, made special by the Zeppelin-inspired style it has and the clear heavy rock influences. It’s a seriously groovy, fuzzed-out, and fast guitar lead, plain and simple. This emerges many times in later songs on the album, and each time it does, it’s just as thrilling as the first.
The next notable number is entitled “Heart of Chrome.” It’s a song that blends together a melodic piano with a flowy lead guitar. Immediately after is “Through the Horizon,” a piece that’s more about the composition and less about the lyricism. It’s a refreshing break from the dim, frenzied narrative and acts as a signal of the story’s second act. At times, the arrangement seems experimental, while in other moments there’s a clear-cut and traditional-sounding chorus with verses. The drums, per usual, are crisp, resonant and well mixed.
Following “Through the Horizon” is “Mantra of the Manatee”, arguably the most ambitious song on the album. Claypool starts this one with his bass, and then the drums come crashing in. A mellotron is featured. The rhythm is exceptionally catchy, and the overall composition switches between gritty and groovy with two distinct melodies. “Mantra of the Manatee”’s lyrics are intensely metaphorical, pushing listeners deeper into the fantastical world and story.
What really makes the song so unique, though, is the stereo panning. On one side, there are the arrangement’s high frequencies, and on the other ear, listeners will hear the low frequencies (like the bass). Claypool recorded his bass twice, making those low frequencies hit even harder.
The stereo panning is intentionally inconsistent throughout the song’s duration. During that groovy, upbeat chorus, the song is in mono, but during the gritty and rough verses, it flips back to panning. The rhythm and melody changes – paired with the distinctive audio setup – make the song feel like two separate pieces sewn together. Not only does this sound alluringly psychedelic, but it strengthens the narrative’s chaotic tone and gives listeners a truly one-of-a-kind auditory experience. Bluntly, “Mantra of the Manatee” is a hard one to beat.
The song next in line is the title track, “The Golden Egg of Empathy,” and it starts with a mesmerizing slap wrist riff by Claypool. Claypool and Lennon use a talk box for the vocals. Willow Smith (also known mononymously as “WILLOW”) sings this number, and her young, feminine voice gives the song a moody pop song feel.
“Cliptron Shuffle” sits a bit below “The Golden Egg of Empathy,” and it stands out compared to the other numbers. It’s a synth-heavy, noisy song played on a major scale with no words. Cowbells are clanging in the foreground, synths are whirring in the background, and Claypool’s bass is holding all of those different sounds together. The talk box makes another appearance. Much of the song’s sound has a robotic, metallic tone to it and it fits the song’s title which is a clear reference to the dystopia’s main antagonist, Cliptron.
“It’s a Wrap” signifies the end of the album, both in its title and its weighty twelve-minute duration. The song starts with sound effects that emulate wind blowing. Synths come in. Claypool is talking, but what he says is muffled and unintelligible. The drums bust onto the scene, and Claypool’s bass comes along with it, turning the simple melody into something complex. Here is where the meat of the entire concept of the album lies.
Around four minutes in, the song switches to total experimentation with the bass and guitar being played percussively with a bunch of effects over them. A distorted newscast starts, describing the world of Cliptopia in all its dystopian anti-glory.
Four minutes later, the song shifts again. Claypool and Lennon sing together here. Unlike the rest of the album, the effects on Lennon’s vocals here are nice and subtle. He sounds appropriately nasally and grainy – very reminiscent of Lennon senior’s voice.
Credit: Christian Bertrand/Shutterstock
The dark and disturbing tone of the newscast falls away, and in comes a bright, upbeat, Beatles-esque arrangement that Lennon sings over in a beautiful vertical melody. A mellow acoustic guitar takes the lead, and there are clashing cymbals in the background.
The song then switches yet again. Claypool’s bendy bass comes back in, heavy and hard. A rocking guitar enters. Claypool and Lennon’s voices mix and mingle, and their singing is layered together, making for a near perfect listening experience.
The next two minutes of the song involve another melody change. Synths reemerge. There are sound effects that sound like explosions, and it almost feels like there’s a concluding drum arrangement. But then there comes the final melodic switch.
All of a sudden, the song is lighter. There’s a chorus effect on the lead guitar, and it makes the piece sound gentler. Claypool’s bass is still flangey, but it’s slower, and he’s only hitting a few notes now. To close out the album, the sound of a tape rewinding is used.
It’s a proper ending, one that symbolizes going back to the very beginning of Cliptopia’s story – parallel to where humanity sits now. Lennon and Claypool tell the audience – without any spoken sentiments – that the real world is spiraling much like the album’s fictional dystopia does. It’s possible that the duo wanted this album to stand as a sort of warning. The only difference between Cliptopia and the real world is that there’s still time to make a change: to push away invasive automation and instead nurture human creativity, kindness, and thinking.
The Great Parrot-Ox and the Golden Egg of Empathy does a lot that should be admired. There are inventive synth sounds and well-composed, properly chaotic arrangements that reflect the depressing society of Cliptopia – and in turn, real life. Claypool manages to use his flangey bass in every song, but in an appreciably different way. Best of all, each piece sounds varied enough to stand on its own.
Though the album can’t quite compete with South of Reality (2019), it’s more memorable than Monolith of Phobos (2016), and all in all, it’s pleasantly different from anything the duo has previously done. This marks a fresh, new chapter within Lennon and Claypool’s collaborative careers, one that leaves fans and new listeners alike eager for more of their tunes and societal commentary.
