Imaginary Diseases

Why the Zappa Family Trust hasn’t been more energetic in re-mastering and releasing the plethora of live material it undoubtedly has is beyond me. There have been a few posthumous releases, but not nearly as many, in my opinion, that could be potentially released. One that allegedly was pressed into a limited CD release (I question the “limited” designation because it can be readily ordered from online retailers) is “Imaginary Diseases,” a musical quilt of outstanding live performances that included some of the musicians from a “big band” Zappa had assembled, composed of players primarily associated with the “Grand Wazoo” through “Apostrophe(‘)” era. If you don’t have this one in your Zappa collection, you’re really missing out.

Some interesting background on this recording in light of the fact it was dubbed the Petit Wazoo tour, a 10-piece band that Zappa toured with that was a smaller version of the 20-piece Grand Wazoo band that had also briefly toured.

That era of recordings and the sound it produced is primarily exemplified by the albums “Waka/Jawaka” and “The Grand Wazoo.” However, the Petit Wazoo tour really only had a few of the musicians from either album. Slide guitarist Tony Duran shows up in the credits on “Waka/Jawaka,” “The Grand Wazoo,” and “Apostrophe(‘),” but not “Over-nite Sensation.” Jim Gordon (more on him in a moment) shows up only on “Apostrophe(‘)”, while horn player Malcolm McNabb appears on “The Grand Wazoo.” Bruce Fowler’s trombone debuts on “Over-nite Sensation,” and appears as well on “Apostrophe(‘).” Many of the other musicians that appeared on these recordings, particularly the jazz-fusion albums, don’t show up at all on “Imaginary Diseases.”

What did show up consistently is the sound that had its genesis on “Waka/Jawaka,” and which fully flowered on “The Grand Wazoo.” The latter album was released at the time “Imaginary Diseases” was recorded. This sound had in many ways influenced almost every composition Zappa did from then on.

The recording opens with the curious “Oddients,” a bit of avant-garde inviting Zappa’s signature audience participation. But the curiosity quickly vanishes with “Rollo,” an instrumental that also appears on some bootlegs with vocals.

“Been to Kansas City in A Minor,” is classic 12-bar blues with some ripping great guitar work by Zappa. This is also when Jim Gordon’s drumming becomes very noticeable. His beat keeping is outstanding, sounding very basic and yet filled with a soaring personality that gives his drumming a character I have heard very few times from others. Why then, with such skill, does Gordon not play on more recordings with Zappa? His background as a session drummer is vast, having played with Delaney & Bonnie, which then led to a gig on Eric Clapton’s first solo album. He’s banged skins with Traffic, Joe Cocker, Buddy Guy, Joan Baez, George Harrison … the list goes on and on.

But alas, Jim Gordon had a dark side that included battles with mental illness, some think schizophrenia, that eventually rendered him incapable of sticking in the music business and which led to him murdering his mother in 1983. Gordon already had reportedly established a somewhat erratic pattern within the music business, and with Zappa’s low tolerance for musicians who require too much management, Zappa probably saw a glimpse of Gordon’s demons and likely decided he didn’t want anything to do with them.

While the next track’s title somewhat resembles the song from “Apostrophe(‘),” the song “Farther O’Blivion” has very little to do with the suite that ends with “Father O’Blivion.” But this little gem, which Zappa announces at its start has a tango in the middle of it, is an excellent jazz smoothie that features, of all things, a tuba solo! And an outstanding one at that. This song also contain musical themes and set pieces that Zappa later incorporated into future items, such as “Gregerry Peccary.” Gary Barone’s trumpet work during the tango section is excellent. The frenzied horn section as well during the latter part of the second third of the song is again excellently accentuated by Gordon’s flawless drumming. Gordon’s drum solo is equal parts fascinating and thrilling; it’s almost as though he is telling Ginger Baker, through his drumming, to take a break. You can hear people in the background cheering him on, as he is seemingly possessed – yet he doesn’t forget himself. He finishes right on cue for the rest of the band to come in and complete the song.

Things return to a meatier audio treat with “D.C. Boogie,” which starts out in a very soporific (and by that I mean morphine-like rather than sleep inducing) bluesy style that reminds me of something that The Velvet Underground wished it could have done, or something that Can would likely have done, except that Can would recognize Zappa’s genius and brilliant playing and just sit back and enjoy the damn thing. This groove is good, and it contains some guitar work by Zappa that truly is something different. He ventures into a musical and tonal realm in this song that I, frankly, haven’t heard out of him that often. The Muse captured Frank that night, and thankfully wouldn’t let go for 13 minutes. Again, Gordon’s drumming is beautifully subdued, yet right on target. The song is called a boogie largely because of its second half, when Frank calls upon the crowd to offer its input as to how the song ought to end. The crowd’s choice was a boogie, although one has to wonder if Frank had already had his mind made up. But when the song resumes after this brief respite, a freaking awesome boogie it is. And again, I cannot comment enough about Gordon’s drumming here, because it sounds like two drummers, in the style, for example, of The Grateful Dead. The final guitar solo in this would make Duane Allman weep.

The title track is full-blown Wazoo-ness. And, I’m sorry to keep repeating myself, but when Zappa takes off in his searing guitar solo, Gordon is right there keeping tempo perfectly. The guitar solo is very “Apostrophe(‘)” as well. While Zappa supposedly never played this jam live that he recorded with Jack Bruce, this track comes closest to what I think it might have sounded like. And incidentally, Gordon was on “Apostrophe(‘),” so he would have been keenly familiar with Zappa’s style on that song.

The CD closes with “Montreal”, which probably has my favorite guitar solo on the entire album. My favorite, again, because of Gordon’s drumming. It’s almost like Zappa and Gordon are sharing musical brains. It’s a very basic rhythm, but soooo effectively delivered you can hear the crowd getting into the jam. I really think that Zappa and Gordon connected musically on this tour in a way Zappa hasn’t been able to do with a drummer very often. He mentions in his autobiography that it was difficult to find a drummer that would keep up with what he was doing on the guitar. But somehow, I feel that Gordon does more than keep up with Zappa on this set. Listen closely. I think Gordon anticipates Zappa.

I rate this recording with five out of five stars. Leave your rating below.


Recorded at various live gigs Oct. 27, 1972 to Dec. 15, 1972; Released Jan. 13, 2006 on Zappa Records (limited release).

All tracks by Frank Zappa.

"Oddients" – 1:13
"Rollo" – 3:21
"Been to Kansas City in A Minor" – 10:15
"Farther O'Blivion" – 16:02
"D.C. Boogie" – 13:27
"Imaginary Diseases" – 9:45
"Montreal" – 9:11

Personnel:

Frank Zappa – Conductor, Guitar, Vocals
Malcolm McNabb – Trumpet
Gary Barone – Trumpet, Flugelhorn
Tom Malone – Tuba, Saxes, Piccolo Trumpet, Trumpet
Earl Dumler – Woodwinds
Glenn Ferris – Trombone
Bruce Fowler – Trombone
Tony Duran – Slide Guitar
Dave Parlato – Bass
Jim Gordon – Drums
Composed/Produced/Performed/Edited/Mixed/Tweaked by Frank Zappa

Vaultmeistered by Joe Travers/Mastered by Doug Sax & Robert

Hadley/Liner notes by Steve Vai.

Weasels Ripped My Flesh

Frank Zappa, when speaking about music critics in his autobiography, makes the perspicuous comment that, “There are several reasons why my music has never really been ‘explained’ in the press. For one thing, the people who write the articles don’t really care how it works or why it works.”

This brings to mind the comments by the self-titled “Dean of American Rock Critics” Robert Christgau in reviewing several of Zappa’s releases. In particular, Christgau’s review of “Weasels Ripped My Flesh,” which, ironically, and with some pretense, Christgau denotes with the grade of B+ while at the same time offering an apology for liking the recording. Just as Zappa had indicated, Christgau can’t explain why he likes the album, so he dismisses its accomplishment. I give you his terse “review” in its entirety:

“Talk about ‘montage’--the construction here is all juxtaposition, the composition all interruption. Together with some relatively straightforward instrumentals and ‘My Guitar Wants to Kill Your Mama,’ the album’s two finest strokes--a metal remake of Little Richard’s ‘Directly From My Heart to You’ and ‘Oh No’ a devastating reply to ‘All You Need Is Love’--would make for a highly enjoyable album. But if Brecht considered pure enjoyment counterrevolutionary, Zappa considers it dumb—that’s why he breaks in constantly with dialogue and vocal or electronic sounds whose musical interest/value is essentially theoretical. I find most of these engaging enough to think I might want to listen again some day. But all that means is that I enjoy it, quite moderately, in spite of itself.”

I like “Weasels,” and I liked it from the first listen. And I have to admit, with what some may view as pretense of my own, that liking this album from the start sets me apart from a great many other Zappa fans who, while they like the album, had to let the compositions grow on them before they could call it a favorite. If I sound like a snob, I apologize, because that’s not my intent. It’s just that “Weasels” captured me from the first spin.

What’s not to like?

Right from its frenetic start with “Didja Get Any Onya?”, “Weasels” grabbed my attention. The free-flow, avant-garde style filled with time changes and wailing voices is magnificently intense with a clear structure beneath its seeming chaos. Interestingly, while this album was released after Zappa had hooked up with drummer Aynsely Dunbar, percussion on “Weasels” is accomplished by both Jimmy Carl Black and Art Tripp, who do an excellent job of not only maintaining sanity throughout all of Zappa’s instantaneous time signature switches, but of injecting a musical quality to the pieces as well that gives them personality and character.

Not surprisingly, a favorite among fans of this album is Zappa’s cover of the R.W. Penniman classic “Directly From My Heart to You.” I would be redundant in calling Sugar Cane Harris’ amazing violin on this song “searing” or “electrifying,” as practically everyone else who has written anything about this song has done the same. All I can add is that his playing not only makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck, but makes it dance around my neck and back too. I dare say that Harris’ playing on this surpasses his amazing work on “Hot Rats.”


While some get put off by the vocalizations in “Prelude to the Afternoon of a Sexually Aroused Gas Mask,” it’s all good to me. It’s worth pointing out that the subject of this most likely comes from Zappa’s childhood, as his father, then working for the military at a base where mustard gas was stored, had these devices at home in case of emergency.

I love the abrupt transition in “Toads of the Short Forest” from the introduction to the pounding drums and frenetic saxophone squawks. I have read comments by some who are annoyed by Zappa’s explanation of what’s going on, but unless you really are aware of what is happening, and most people’s musical “ear” is poorly trained, you wouldn’t necessarily know that all these time signatures are melding into one sound.

With “Get A Little,” we get Zappa’s signature guitar playing, beautifully intense and restrained at the same time, as only he could do. More superb avant-garde jazz comes with “The Eric Dolphy Memorial Barbecue,” followed by the somewhat manic, even Baroque sounding “Dwarf Nebula Processional March & Dwarf Nebula,” which recalls recording and sound techniques that Zappa used in “We’re Only In It For the Money.”

Zappa returns to more familiar rock-n-roll techniques with “My Guitar Wants to Kill Your Mama,” but even that has some wacky transitions that include electronic sounds ala Don Preston and flamenco-style acoustic guitar. And if “Oh No” sounds familiar, that’s because it the same melody that appeared on “Lumpy Gravy,” but now adorned with lyrics. It seamlessly transitions into the similarly sounding “The Orange County Lumber Truck,” easily leading some to think they are still hearing “Oh No.”

Zappa closes the album with the title track, a wall of overpowering noise and feedback, calling forth the violent image in the album cover art, which was inspired by an image of equal violence, at least for that era.

There is a string at ARF that provides information on a 1956 magazine article titled “Weasels Ripped My Flesh.” Of all things, the story was about a Connecticut duck farmer who fights a swarm of weasels that have been eating his ducks. The magazine cover grabbed Zappa’s attention, who took it to artist Neon Park, allegedly saying to him, “This is it. What can you do that is worse than this?” Park has done album art for many musicians and groups, ranging from Little Feat to David Bowie.


There was a 1979 movie titled “Weasels Rip My Flesh,” about which a reviewer at the Internet Movie Database wrote that it was probably the worst movie ever made. But Joseph Ziemba at Bleeding Skull calls the movie “a chance discovery of the greatest home movie ever made.” I have no opinion as I have not seen the movie.

I rate this recording five out of five stars. Add your own rating below.



A new link was added to this post on April 4, 2009.

Released: Aug. 10, 1970, Bizarre/Reprise

Track listing:

Side one
"Didja Get Any Onya?" (live) – 3:42 (6:51 on the CD version)
Includes 'Charles Ives', and only on the compact disc re-issue, 'The Jelly'
"Directly from My Heart to You" (Richard Wayne Penniman) – 5:16
"Prelude to the Afternoon of a Sexually Aroused Gas Mask" (live) – 3:47
"Toads of the Short Forest" – 4:47
"Get a Little" (live) – 2:31

Side two
"The Eric Dolphy Memorial Barbecue" – 6:52
"Dwarf Nebula Processional March & Dwarf Nebula" – 2:12
"My Guitar Wants to Kill Your Mama" – 3:32
"Oh No" – 1:45
"The Orange County Lumber Truck" (live) – 3:21
"Weasels Ripped My Flesh" (live) – 2:08

Personnel:

Frank Zappa – lead guitar, vocals
Jimmy Carl Black – drums
Ray Collins – vocals
Roy Estrada – bass, vocals
Bunk Gardner – tenor sax
Lowell George – rhythm guitar, vocals
Don "Sugarcane" Harris – vocals, electric violin
Don Preston – organ, electronic effects
Buzz Gardner – trumpet and flugel horn
Motorhead Sherwood – baritone saxophone, snorks
Art Tripp – drums
Ian Underwood – alto saxophone

Lumpy Gravy

Zappa’s first official solo venture away from The Mothers of Invention, “Lumpy Gravy,” was always difficult for me to figure out. On one hand, I really enjoy the recording. There are some really nice thematic pieces and motifs on this album. But on the other hand, I am frustrated by the sense I get while listening to it that these pieces are unfinished. Does “Lumpy Gravy” have a beginning, middle and end? Or is it just snippets of material strung together in a manner to appear that they have context and purpose?

And what is it with some of the dialogue on the recording? Are these snippets the lumps in this musical gravy?

Not surprisingly, production and release of “Lumpy Gravy” was marred by legal threats and chest thumping by the record companies involved, as revealed by a Rolling Stone article from April 27, 1968, by Sue C. Clark, and an interview in Melody Maker from January 1974. But the struggles Zappa faced in releasing his material aren’t what the music is all about (although he at times made his music reflect those struggles).

Let’s first examine what others have written about this recording, starting with Jim Miller writing for Rolling Stone in 1968. Miller spends most of his review revealing the recording’s flaws, sharing his feeling that much of the music on the album doesn’t really work and probably could have been executed more effectively by using The Mothers. But in the last paragraph of the review, Miller calls “Lumpy Gravy” an, “important album, if only because Frank Zappa is one of rock’s foremost minds.” That’s like saying we need to forgive an important artist who produces mediocre work because the artist is important. Maybe it wasn’t the artist’s fault the work failed; maybe it was the result of circumstance beyond his or her control.

Then we have Mark Prindle, who gives this album nine of 10 stars. He finds this musical collage of orchestral sound interspersed with rambling dialogue one of Zappa’s best albums. While the various dialogues throughout the album can easily strike the listener as being banal and meaningless, Prindle notes their connection to something larger, and the music plays a role in this interconnectivity as well.

At Kill Ugly Radio, there is Marko J’s comment on the album that much like “Uncle Meat,” “Lumpy Gravy” completely baffled him. Yet he calls it a “stunning piece” in part, perhaps, because of the historical snapshot the piece presents of the era during which is was recorded.

So I’m not the only one that had mixed feelings about this recording. Note the past tense. Because as I was researching this blog entry and re-listening to the album multiple times, I found that my feelings and perceptions regarding “Lumpy Gravy” were shifting from “it sounds nice, but I can’t figure it out, oh well,” to a realization that the album might really have had a focus and purpose. And if that were the case, to use a cliché, the album’s conception and execution was brilliant. Hmmmm.


What began to nudge me in the direction of such a conclusion was a bit I read in an Arf entry on the album where readers submit their ideas on the origins of Zappa’s lyrics. In this discussion, one of the album’s seemingly random conversations makes mention of the “one note.” On the album, the transaction goes like this: “Everything in the universe is, is, is made of one element, which is a note, a single note. Atoms are really vibrations, you know. Which are extensions of the BIG NOTE, everything’s one note. Everything, even the ponies. The note, however, is the ultimate power, but, see, the pigs don’t know that, the ponies don’t know that.”

We could have very long and circuitous discussion on whom or what the pigs and ponies are, but that’s irrelevant for the moment. It’s the “big note” referenced in the transaction, and a couple folks from the Netherlands left comments regarding a television program they had seen during which a German doctor had theorized that the universe didn’t start with a big bang, but with a big note. It appears the posters may have been talking about Hans Jenny, a Swiss physician and natural scientist who pioneered the field of cymantics.

“The more one studies these things, the more one realizes that sound is the creative principle,” Jenny reportedly said. “It must be regarded as primordial. No single phenomenal category can be claimed as the aboriginal principle.” He conducted experiments that showed that sound gave shape to matter, concluding that sound was the creative force in the universe.

Considering that Jenny died in 1971, it is quite possible that Zappa ran across the Swiss scientist’s thesis at some previous time. Considering that Zappa’s musical influence largely came from an obscure composer, Edgar Varese, and he made references to other obscure figures with radical ideas, such as the song on “Guitar” titled, “Who Is Fulcanelli?” which refers to the French alchemist of the same name, it’s safe to conclude, I think, he knew about Jenny and his work.

The conversations recorded in “Lumpy Gravy” were staged by Zappa, who fed the participants topics to begin talking about, letting the conversation take whatever direction it would. So I think it’s safe to presume that Zappa introduced as a topic the idea that the universe began with a “big note” as opposed to a Big Bang, and the comments regarding pigs and ponies might well have been completely spontaneous.

If that be the case, can we conclude that the collection of sounds in the musical parts of the recording are there to give shape and, perhaps, even meaning to these apparently meaningless dialogues? That might still be a leap, considering what the notes say about the recording on the cover, which described it as “a curiously inconsistent piece which started out to be a ballet but probably didn’t make it.”

What do you think?

I rate this recording five out of five stars. Add your own rating below.


Released: May 1968, recorded by Capitol, released by MGM.

LP release:
Side One
Lumpy Gravy - Part I (15:45)
Side Two
Lumpy Gravy - Part II (15:56)

Current CD

Lumpy Gravy Part One (15:51)
The Way I See It, Barry (0:06)
Duodenum (1:32)
Oh No (2:03)
Bit Of Nostalgia (1:35)
It's From Kansas (0:29)
Bored Out 90 Over (0:32)
Almost Chinese (0:25)
Switching Girls (0:29)
Oh No Again (1:12)
At The Gas Station (2:41)
Another Pickup (0:53)
I Don't Know If I Can Go Through This Again (3:52)

Lumpy Gravy Part Two (15:51)
Very Distraughtening (1:34)
White Ugliness (2:21)
Amen (1:33)
Just One More Time (0:58)
A Vicious Circle (1:12)
King Kong (0:42)
Drums Are Too Noisy (0:58)
Kangaroos (0:57)
Envelops The Bath Tub (3:42)
Take Your Clothes Off (1:52)

Personnel:

The ABNUCEALS EMUUKHA electric SYMPHONY orchestra & CHORUS
with maybe even some members of the mothers of invention
PIANO, CELESTE, ELECTRIC HARPSICHORD: Paul Smith, Mike Lang, Lincoln Mayorga, Pete Jolly
DRUMS: Johnny Guerin, Frankie Capp, Shelly Manne
PERCUSSION (Gongs, Bells, Vibes, Marimba, Timpani, Timbales & assorted insanity): Emil Richards, Gene Estes, Alan Estes, Victor Feldman, Kenneth Watson (uncredited), Thomas Poole (uncredited)
WOODWINDS (Flute, Bass Flute, Piccolo, Oboe, English Horn, Eb Clarinet, Bb Clarinet, Bass Clarinet, Contrabass Clarinet, Alto Sax, Bass Sax, Bassoon & Contrabassoon): Ted Nash, Jules Jacob, John Rotella, Bunk Gardner, Don Christlieb, Gene Cipriano
FRENCH HORNS: Arthur Maebe, Vincent De Rosa, Richard Perissi, Arthur E. Briegleb (uncredited), David A. Duke (uncredited), George F. Price (uncredited)
TRUMPET: Jimmy Zito
TROMBONE: Kenneth Shroyer, Lew McCreary (uncredited)
GUITARS: Jim Haynes (prob. James Helms), Tommy Tedesco, Tony Rizzi, Al Viola, Dennis Budimir
BASS: Bob West, John Balkin, Jimmy Bond, Lyle Ritz, Chuck Berghofer
STRINGS: Sid Sharp-violin; Alexander Koltun-violin; Tibor Zelig-violin; Ralph Schaeffer-violin; Bernard Kundell-violin; William Kurasch-violin; James Getzoff-violin; Arnold Belnick-violin; Leonard Malarsky-violin; Harold Ayres-violin; Jerome J. Reisler-violin; Phillip Goldberg-viola; Leonard Selic-viola; Harry Hyams-viola; Joseph DiFiore-viola; Jerome A. Kessler-cello; Raymond J. Kelley-cello; Joseph Saxon-cello; Jesse Ehrlich-cello; Harold G. Bemko-cello
CHORUS: Louie The Turkey, Ronnie Williams, Dick Barber "Foon The Younger", Roy Estrada, Spider, Motorhead, J.K. & Tony, Gilly and the girls from Apostolic (Maxine, Becky), All Night John, The other John, Cal, Pumpkin, Larry Fanoga, Monica, Jimmy Carl Black (the Indian of the group)
ALSO: Sammy, Harold, Charlie, Bruce, and the rest of the guys from Atlanta

(Personnel information courtesy of the Zappa wiki jawaka)

We're Only In It For The Money

By the time Zappa and the Mothers had released “We’re Only In It For The Money,” they were on a rock-n-roll creative roll with accelerating momentum. A target had been identified for Zappa’s satire, and the scathing exposes within the lyrics were being presented more musically, with tunes easier to follow and more effectively matched.

Even the cover more overtly capitalized on the group’s newly gained confidence by making fun of the Beatles with a mock of the cover from “Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band.” By then, the Beatles had achieved super ultra mega stardom and were nearing their zenith.

The Mothers were nearing a zenith as well, and with “We’re Only In It For The Money,” Zappa held no prisoners: the album makes fun of hippies, cops, parents, society, and drugs, but also exhibited sympathy for many, identified within the album as the “other” people.

Despite the fact that this album became such a favorite among fans within the Zappa canon, it has a significant flaw: “We’re Only In It For The Money” is trapped within the period it mocks and was released. Matt P. at Ground and Sky points this out very well in his review of “Absolutely Free,” which he views as the more superior album between the two.


Some more evidence of how the album is inextricably tied to 1968 can be found in the blog post on the release at ChrisGoesRock (essentially, it’s what can be found in the Wikipedia entry for the album). I guess the fact that Paul McCartney went ahead and touted the Sgt. Pepper’s album as the first concept album didn’t quite sit right with Frank, seeing how he had already released two. The blog post also has information about all the censored versions and edits that occurred with the album.

But anyway, even with that limitation inherent in the album, it is, without a doubt, a great album. It is among Mark Prindle’s favorites in his comments on the Zappa catalogue, and even the very harsh critic Robert Christgau gives the recording an “A.” At the All Music Guide, it and “Freak Out!“ are the only two albums to receive all five stars.

All of this, however, is rather irrelevant when you consider Zappa’s words. Speaking about music critics and others in the music industry, Zappa told this to Don Paulsen for a Hit Parader article published in June, 1967, and can be read here:

“Usually they hate music. They love business and just want to make money. Whenever I have to deal with this kind of people (sic), I always tell them that I hate music and I’m only doing this for the money. They slap me on the back and we get along fine. I tell them I wish I could drive a cab instead, but I can’t get a license.” This, of course, was said shortly after “Absolutely Free” was released and before the deal over McCartney’s comment arose. For his next project at the time, Zappa had something else in mind. Obviously, however, the irony of his statement – that the band was only in it for the money – was a heart-felt sentiment, as evidenced by “Money”’s release.


Why did this album gain such a strong following? Why did it leave such an indelible impression on its listeners? I think it has a lot to do with what many have identified as the album’s duality within its content. The narrator in James Michener’s “The Drifters” eventually concludes that the counter-culture generation of the late 60s and early 70s isn’t much different from the older generation that spawned it, yet this conclusion is drawn sympathetically. Zappa, too, paints a picture with “Money” that reveals that the hippie culture isn’t much different from the older generation, but he reveals those similarities in terms of their shared phoniness.

The album begins with the short “Are You Hung Up?” which includes Eric Clapton stuttering like a stoner. This was such a cool thing for me when I first listened to the album, as I’ve always been a major Clapton fan. I bought the album in about 1974 or 1975, just before I graduated high school. I recall wondering at the time what vinyl pressing I had; it had a Verve label on the disc itself, but seeing how I bought it almost 10 years after its initial release, I figured it had to be a reissue.

So imagine my surprise and interest when I read years later about how later releases of the album were censored, such as the verse in “Who Needs the Peace Corps?” I can remember clearly the lyric in question was on the album I had bought: “I will love the police as they kick the shit out of me on the streets.” That was what was recorded on my album. I have never heard any other version of this song.

The album has been hailed by many as being ahead of its time, particularly in how it sang about cops killing kids (“Pow-pow-pow”) prior to the Kent State shootings in 1970. What makes the song “Mom & Dad” so poignant for me is how it describes the mother going home to drink, rationalizing the notion of police killing “some girls and boys” by lamenting over a drink, “they looked too weird it served them right.” A girl I knew while living in Tucson, Ariz., in about 1980 told me how her mother said the same thing, that the students at Kent State had it coming.

By the way, the song “Mom & Dad,” is probably one of the most heart-felt songs I have ever heard Zappa sing. Leading up to this song, he makes fun of hippies for being frauds, but right after that, he turns around and points his finger at the parents. He does it again at the end of “What’s the Ugliest Part of Your Body?”

Then there’s the “phone call” just before “Bow Tie Daddy.” Sound a bit like the phone call bit in Pink Floyd’s “The Wall,” don’t you think? And that’s not all that surprising since there is recorded evidence of Zappa having jammed with Pink Floyd in 1969 at a rock festival in Belgium (when I finish my research on this, I will be posting on this event).

On “Side B,” Frank gets a bit nostalgic with the songs “Let’s Make the Water Turn Black” and with “The Idiot Bastard Son,” both of which are sort of odes to a couple of characters from Zappa’s past. You’ll need to read his autobiography to get the details; it’s a very interesting story. But again, with the latter song, we hear Zappa sing a tragic story of a newborn child abandoned in the trash by the dissociative parents, a hooker and a politician.

Zappa goes deep with the recording, and even suggests in “Mother People” that he’s going deeper than his listeners realize; he mocks them knowing that they think they know what’s going on. Did they? Or was Zappa correct to suggest that they can’t see how they are just like the generation preceding them.

I rate this recording five out of five stars. Add your own rating below.


Released: January, 1968, Verve/Bizarre.

LP Release
Side one
Are You Hung Up? (1:23)
Who Needs the Peace Corps? (2:34)
Concentration Moon (2:42)
Mom & Dad (2:16)
Bow Tie Daddy (1:22)
Harry, You're a Beast (1:22)
What's the Ugliest Part of Your Body? (1:03)
Absolutely Free (3:26)
Flower Punk (3:57)
Hot Poop (0:26)

Side two
Nasal Retentive Calliope Music (2:00)
Let's Make the Water Turn Black (1:54)
The Idiot Bastard Son (3:27)
Lonely Little Girl (1:10)
Take Your Clothes Off When You Dance (1:33)
What's the Ugliest Part of Your Body? (Reprise)(1:03)
Mother People (2:30)
The Chrome Plated Megaphone of Destiny (6:30)

Current CD
Are You Hung Up? (1:24)
Who Needs the Peace Corps?(2:34)
Concentration Moon (2:22)
Mom & Dad (2:16)
Telephone Conversation (0:49)
Bow Tie Daddy (0:33)
Harry, You're a Beast (1:21)
What's the Ugliest Part of Your Body? (1:03)
Absolutely Free (3:24)
Flower Punk (3:03)
Hot Poop (0:27)
Nasal Retentive Calliope Music (2:03)
Let's Make the Water Turn Black (2:01)
The Idiot Bastard Son (3:19)
Lonely Little Girl (1:10)
Take Your Clothes Off When You Dance (1:33)
What's the Ugliest Part of Your Body? (Reprise) (1:02)
Mother People (2:26)
The Chrome Plated Megaphone of Destiny (6:25)

Personnel:

The Mothers of Invention
Frank Zappa – guitar, piano, Vocals, voices
Dick Barber – vocals
Jimmy Carl Black – trumpet, drums, vocals, indian
Roy Estrada – electric bass, vocals
Bunk Gardner – woodwind
Billy Mundi – drums, vocals
Don Preston – keyboards
Euclid James “Motorhead” Sherwood – baritone saxophone, soprano saxophone, voices
Suzy Creamcheese – telephone voice
Ian Underwood – piano, keyboards, voices, woodwind
Pamela Zarubica – vocals

Session musicians
Eric Clapton – Male speaking part in “Are You Hung Up?” and “Nasal Retentive Calliope Music.”
Gary Kellgren – “the one doing all the creepy whispering” (i.e., interstitial spoken segments)
Spider Barbour – vocals
Dick Kunc – “cheerful interruptions” vocal
Vicki Kellgren – additional telephone vocals
Sid Sharp – orchestral arrangements on “Absolutely Free”, “Mother People” and “The Chrome Plated Megaphone of Destiny”

Absolutely Free

Imagine for a moment a 10-year-old boy finding one of his older brother’s albums, and being curious, he put it on the family’s stereo to give it a listen. This boy was already familiar with a considerable bit of pop music from the time (we’re talking circa 1968). He was very familiar with The Beatles, The Monkees, and The Rolling Stones. There was a Young Rascals album. There were The Bee Gees, plus a plethora of 45 r.p.m. singles that included a vast array of pop tunes from the time in this boy’s home as well.

But it wasn’t just pop music this boy had a yen for. He was brought up listening to the recordings in the collection “The Golden Treasury of Classical Music,” as well as the Latin jazz sounds of Herb Alpert and Xavier Cougat. This boy was also taking up the saxophone, having given up on the piano.

Now you know my musical state of mind when I first listened to my brother’s copy of “Absolutely Free.” Not only did the lyrics captivate me with their absurdity as well as their perspicuity, but the rhythmic flow of the music, its pacing and the way it all sounded connected, also hypnotized me. There was something intense going on with this music from a structural point of view that intrigued me.

It was my first moment of hearing The Mothers of Invention. I was hooked.

There were so many things about this album that captivated me. First, there was the album cover itself. There was so much going on with the cover art that I could peruse it time after time and still see something new that I had missed before. And, of course, with each repeated listen of the album, some of the cryptic messages on the cover began to make sense.

Musically, Zappa’s thematic structural style was strengthened in this release over what he had accomplished with “Freak Out!” Each side presents its own theme: Side A with “Absolutely Free: 1st in a series of underground oratorios,” and Side B with “The M.O.I. American Pageant: 2nd in a series of underground oratorios.”

Kasper Sloots provides some very interesting musical analysis of much of Zappa’s repertoire, but his comments regarding “Absolutely Free” are very interesting. The album has some very basic pop tunes, such as “Status Back Baby,” (a jab at the mindless pop of the Beach Boys?) but even that, as Sloots points out, had a structure more complex than most pop songs of the time.

“Plastic People” contained hints of recognizable music from “Louie Louie,” which Zappa used for live shows. But the studio release is uniquely Zappa with time changes and key changes, as well as singing style changes throughout the song that draws a listener in. And the theme is so simple to get that even my 10-year-old mind at the time knew what he was singing about.

Despite this musical progression with “Absolutely Free,” Zappa explains in his autobiography how challenging it was to complete because of all the constraints placed on him by the record company.

“When it came time for us to do our second album, Absolutely Free, MGM proclaimed that we couldn't spend more than eleven thousand dollars on it. The recording schedules were ridiculous, making it impossible to perfect anything on the album. It was typical of the kind of bullshit we had to put up with until I got my own studio.”

Nonetheless, there were fun moments in the album’s production as well, such as when Ray Collins ad-libbed his lyrics during “The Duke of Prunes.” And the delightful “Call Any Vegetable” is followed with the frenetic and fantastic “Invocation & Ritual Dance of the Young Pumpkin,” a brilliant instrumental that amazes me every time I listen to it. Yes, “what a pumpkin!”

My favorite, however, has always been “Brown Shoes Don’t Make It,” and though Zappa played it often during concerts, the studio version on this album remains my favorite. Despite there being some clear sexual content in the song, when I was 10 I was more enamored by the song’s structure and its melody.



Accurately describing the album can be a challenge as there are so many musical motifs and lyrical themes working all at once. But Joe McGinchey writing at Ground and Sky sums it up rather well, even if his description borders on the verbose:

“Basically, take the impressionistic sociopolitical satire of the Firesign Theatre on their most classic albums - words at a distance seemingly random, at close range deadly precise - and set it to an equally hallucinogenic fabric of music that wouldn't be afraid to reference anyone from Gustav Holst to The Archies. Alternatively, imagine if Edward Albee, Stanley Kubrick, and Andy Kaufman got together and wrote a musical. The thematic territory here always seemed to me the single most natural target for Zappa's crosshairs, examining the neuroses of an American middle class (the "Plastic People") navel gazing their lives away in a complacent world of tv dinners and swimming pools, all under the upstanding shadow of city hall.”

Interestingly, quite a few reviewers (including those at Ground and Sky) of the album rate this one higher than “We’re Only In It For the Money,” an album consistently rated by both fans and others as the best one of the entire catalog. Matt P’s review at Ground and Sky says it best:

“Recorded in November of 1966, (“Absolutely Free”) had no precedent in popular music other than for a couple of songs on the flip side of the band’s own debut album, “Freak Out.” … “Absolutely Free” combined greater musical sophistication with studio technology experimentation to an extent that was well beyond what the Beatles and Beach Boys were doing, and while the socially-conscious lyrics weren’t as eloquent, subtle or imagistic as Dylan’s, their messages were just pertinent and they worked with the music on a level of wit and intelligence that I think was the equal of Dylan's. Were it not for the overwhelming influence that King Crimson’s “In the Court of the Crimson King” cast over 1970s progressive rock, I would probably consider “Absolutely Free” to be the first progressive rock album. Secondly, the album is striking in that it was written as a social protest for a particular time and place, yet addressed its themes on a general enough level that it now transcends that time and place — unlike the much ballyhooed follow-up, 1968’s “We’re Only In It For the Money,” which is so immutably set in 1967 Southern California that it’s difficult to get much out of the album without first prepping one’s self on its many period references.”

I apologize for that length extrapolation, but he does it so well. And given what is currently going on in the world, the album’s theme is just as relevant today as when it was released. The CD release included two other songs sandwiched into the middle that were omitted from the vinyl release: “Big Leg Emma,” and “Why Don’tcha Do Me Right?” I prefer the original vinyl line up.

I rate this recording five out of five stars. Add your own rating below.


Album release date: May 26, 1967, Verve Records.

Track listings:

Side one
Suite No. 1: "Absolutely Free" (1st in a Series of Underground Oratorios)

"Plastic People" – 3:42
"The Duke of Prunes" – 2:13
"Amnesia Vivace" – 1:01
"The Duke Regains His Chops" – 1:52
"Call Any Vegetable" – 2:15
"Invocation & Ritual Dance of the Young Pumpkin" – 7:00
"Soft-Sell Conclusion" – 1:40
1967 Mothers of Invention single, bonus tracks for the 1995 Rykodisc CD reissue:
"Big Leg Emma" – 2:31
"Why Don'tcha Do Me Right?" – 2:37

Side two
Suite No. 2: "The M.O.I. American Pageant" (2nd in a Series of Underground Oratorios)

"America Drinks" – 1:52
"Status Back Baby" – 2:54
"Uncle Bernie's Farm" – 2:10
"Son of Suzy Creamcheese" – 1:34
"Brown Shoes Don't Make It" – 7:30
"America Drinks and Goes Home" – 2:46

Personnel:

Frank Zappa – guitar, conductor, vocals
Jimmy Carl Black – drums, vocals
Ray Collins – vocals, tambourine
Don Ellis – trumpet on "Brown Shoes Don't Make It"
Roy Estrada – bass, vocals
Bunk Gardner – woodwinds
Billy Mundi – drums, percussion
Don Preston – keyboards
John Rotella – percussion
Jim Fielder – guitar, piano
Pamela Zarubica – vocals
Herb Cohen
Lisa Cohen
Kurt Retar

Chunga's Revenge

You know right away with the opening guitar riffs of “Transylvania Boogie” that “Chunga’s Revenge” is gonna be a keeper! The first of the Flo & Eddie recordings featuring former Turtles Mark Volman and Howard Kaylan, Chunga’s Revenge is by far the best of the group, both in terms of its down and dirty, nitty gritty style and its compositional excellence. While the remaining releases of the series – “Fillmore East – June 1971,” “200 Motels,” and “Just Another Band From L.A.” – are worthy in their own right, only “200 Motels” can be counted as truly exceptional. And despite that, “200 Motels” isn’t nearly as accessible as “Chunga’s Revenge.”

Yet, like so many other Zappa releases, the “experts” didn’t like it. In his 1970 review of the album for Rolling Stone, Lester Bangs writes: “Zappa can go on putting out dull records like these indefinitely and always find somebody who’ll buy them, out of respect for his name if nothing else…But these diddlings are not only insignificant, not only do they suggest that one genius is not at present working towards anything in particular, but they also smack of a rather cynical condescending attitude towards a public that may be getting ready to pass Zappa by.” Bangs even dismisses in the same review another Zappa recording that is often voted by fans to be among Zappa’s best – “Weasels Ripped My Flesh.”

Was Frank copping an attitude toward his listeners? Was he being condescending as suggested by Bangs? Or do we take to heart Zappa’s own words regarding his perception of the fallibility of record reviewers, that most in fact didn’t know a lot about music to begin with, despite the fact that they made their living writing about music, and frequently dismissed as garbage music they didn’t grasp?



The two reviews at Ground and Sky are positive, but in different ways: The one penned by Bob Eichler is warm, but not quite glowing, while the one by Matt P is tersely succinct in its mention that “Chunga’s Revenge” is “perhaps the most underrated album in the Zappa catalog.” That review was posted in 2005.

Regardless, “Chunga’s Revenge” tickles my musical ear from start to finish. And as I state at the beginning here, what a start it has!

What strikes me most about “Transylvania Boogie” is that the guitar solo, to me, marks a point in Zappa’s evolution where his playing makes a quantum leap in both style and execution. It’s just really damn good and while it holds his essential style, he’s introducing new playing techniques and a new sound that takes more traditional rock guitar to great places. Zappa can play avant garde with his axe, but he can brilliantly play hard core rock with it as well. This is much more evident in “Road Ladies,” a kick-ass blues tune that has Frank playing in a more traditional electric blues style that must surely be the envy of every blues guitar player to have emerged out of Texas and the Mississippi Delta. His style is point on, the riffs are classic, and hold a ragged razor edge that thrills me. Not sure why some reviewers have called “Road Ladies” a soul style tune, because it is plain as day a basic 12-bar blues piece.

“Road Ladies” also has other historical significance for Zappa in that the road theme is introduced for the first time with Howard Kaylan and Mark Volman, a theme that was carried on throughout the Flo & Eddie years with the following recordings: “Fillmore East - June 1971,” “200 Motels,” and “Just Another Band From L.A.” An interesting side note is that Nazareth was one of the few bands to cover this tune.

For most people who have taken the time to comment on this album, “Twenty Small Cigars” routinely comes out as a favorite. A jazzy instrumental built around a distorted guitar and harpsichord, it has a very “Hot Rats” feel.

Then comes “The Nancy & Mary Music,” another tune that gets mixed reviews. Some label this live instrumental track as filler. It opens with a cacophony of seemingly chaos with Ian Underwood’s saxophone shrieking atonally and Aynsley Dunbar’s frenetic, jazz style drumming, which introduces another Zappa guitar solo. The abrupt transition to more percussion is punctuated with some shrieking by Kaylan and Volman, which, in my opinion, fits perfectly in a musical sense with the impassioned drumming that is followed by a “big finish” that includes some great electric piano work by George Duke, who joined with Frank for the first time, a musical relationship that would last for years. George does some great scatting in the song as well that is somewhat reminiscent of the vocal style found in the song “Hocus Pocus” by Focus. However, “Moving Waves” was recorded and released by Focus a full year after “Chunga’s Revenge.”

“Tell Me You Love Me” eventually became a concert favorite, particularly during the 1980s tours. In many ways, the later live versions of this song are tighter, such as the one on “Tinsel Town Rebellion.” “Would You Go All The Way” is a silly, but enjoyable, interlude leading into the title track.

With “Chunga’s Revenge,” we get hard core guitar rock and seemingly anomalous jazz segues. Ian Underwood’s opening saxophone solo, performed with pedal volume, is tortuous and chilling, and I mean that in a good way (that’s right folks, the opening solo instrument is an alto saxophone, not a guitar with a fuzzed wah-wah). Here’s a video of a 1973 recording of the song from an Austin, Texas, concert.






The video below is a live performance of the song from 1980 in Paris.






I don’t like the transition much on the album into “The Clap,” as it is clumsy and technically flawed; the piece itself is fine, I just don’t care for the way it was brought into the album.

A musical and lyrical theme found in “Rudy Wants To Buy Yez a Drink” is repeated again in “Lonesome Cowboy Burt” on “200 Motels.” And the closer, “Sharleena,” was another song that got frequent live play, particularly by Dweezil.

I rate this recording five out of five stars. Add your own rating below.


Album release date: Oct. 23, 1970, Bizarre/Reprise

Track listings:

Album release:

Side one
"Transylvania Boogie" - 5:01
"Road Ladies" - 4:11
"Twenty Small Cigars" - 2:17
"The Nancy & Mary Music" - 9:30
part 1 - 2:42
part 2 - 4:11
part 3 - 2:37

Side two
"Tell Me You Love Me" - 2:43
"Would You Go All the Way?" - 2:30
"Chunga's Revenge" - 6:16
"The Clap" - 1:24
"Rudy Wants to Buy Yez a Drink" - 2:45
"Sharleena" - 4:07

Compact Disc:
"Transylvania Boogie" – 5:01
"Road Ladies" – 4:10
"Twenty Small Cigars" – 2:17
"The Nancy and Mary Music" – 9:27
"Tell Me You Love Me" – 2:33
"Would You Go All the Way?" – 2:29
"Chunga's Revenge" – 6:15
"The Clap" – 1:23
"Rudy Wants to Buy Yez a Drink" – 2:44
"Sharleena" – 4:04

Personnel:

Frank Zappa – guitar, harpsichord, percussions, drums, vocals, Condor
Max Bennett – bass
George Duke – organ, trombone, electric piano, sound effects, vocals
Aynsley Dunbar – drums, tambourine
John Guerin – drums (only on Twenty Small Cigars)
Don "Sugarcane" Harris – organ
Howard Kaylan – vocals
Mark Volman – vocals
Jeff Simmons – bass, vocals
Ian Underwood – organ, guitar, piano, rhythm guitar, electric piano, alto saxophone, tenor saxophone, pipe organ

Apostrophe(')

Zappa followed “Over-nite Sensation” relatively quickly with “Apostrophe(‘),” an album that probably got the most radio play of his entire catalog. It went gold and sold more copies than the previous “Over-nite Sensation,” perhaps largely because the humor in the compositions was subtler than with previous material, as exemplified by the suite that opens the album.

Yes, suite. Despite being listed separately without any overt indication that they are connected, the first four tracks of the album are, indeed, one continuous piece. As Francois Couture explains in his review of the first song of the suite, “Don’t Eat The Yellow Snow,” in the All Music Guide, the four-song suite (the other compositions include “Nanook Rubs It,” “St. Alfonzo’s Pancake Breakfast,” and “Father O’Blivion”) was always performed in its entirety whenever the group played live. Daniel Durchholz also identifies the four-song set as a suit in his review of the album in “Musichound Rock: The Essential Album Guide” published in 1996 and excerpted here.

I find interesting the hyperbole used to describe the album when it was released, particularly the Rolling Stone review by Gordon Fletcher published in the June 6, 1974, issue. “Songs like ‘Stink-Foot’ and ‘St. Alfonzo’s Pancake Breakfast’ again attest to Zappa’s abilities at contorting song forms to serve his distorted purposes: They’re a welcome reminder that comic lunacy is still alive and well.” The high praise the album received was, over time, gradually perceived with scorn by Zappaphiles, who again rejected the commercial success of the recording. Also, over time, the reviews of the album became more realistic in their assessment as the recording became compared with the rest of Zappa’s catalogue. The reviews that can be found in Prog Archives.com show the wide variety of praise it received, from wildly positive to more muted respect.

Something unique with this album is the title track, “Apostrophe’.” This instrumental jam is both powerful in its performance and significant in the fact that the personnel involved were non-Mothers. This ad-hoc group of players included former Cream bassist Jack Bruce along with drummer Jim Gordon. One individual that does show up on other recordings with Zappa was rhythm guitarist Tony Duran. The song has an intense fuzz bass solo by Bruce that sears its way into your brain, leaving you in bewilderment. Contrasted with Zappa’s amazingly clean guitar work, the song leaves an indelible impression on the listener: its style is unique from anything else Zappa composed. And as far as I can tell, the recording found on this album is the only example of it you can find. Unless someone can provide some evidence to the contrary, I don’t think Zappa ever performed the song live. These facts lend meaning to the song’s title.



But there’s more to the story too. According to the Wikipedia entry on the album, while the collaboration may have been serendipitous, the experience was not mutually satisfying for either Zappa or Bruce. In fact, Bruce appears to deny he played the bass part on the track, despite him receiving credit on the album liner notes.

When we examine the definition of apostrophe – which includes the use as an indication of the omission of letters – the song of the same title can take on some explanation. It is a song that when placed within the context of the rest of the album shows a clear omission of both personnel normally associated with Zappa as well as a diversion from the album’s overall feel.

The song “Apostrophe’” is one of my all-time Zappa favorites. Another favorite on this album include “Uncle Remus,” a really beautiful bluesy ballad with George Duke’s extraordinary piano work. While “Cosmik Debris” is not considered officially part of the “Yellow Snow” suite, it does act as a thematic close to pieces composing the suite. It became a concert favorite on subsequent tours. “Stink-Foot,” however, despite its radio play and popularity, is to me the weakest composition on the album. Weakness, though, is relative.

I rate this recording with five out of five stars. Add your own rating below.


Album release date: April 22, 1974, DiscReet Records.

Track listings:

“Don’t Eat the Yellow Snow" – 2:07
“Nanook Rubs It” – 4:38
“St. Alfonzo’s Pancake Breakfast” – 1:50
“Father O’Blivion” – 2:18
“Cosmik Debris” – 4:14
“Excentrifugal Forz” – 1:33
“Apostrophe'” – 5:50
“Uncle Remus” – 2:44
“Stink-Foot” – 6:33

Personnel:

Frank Zappa – vocals, guitar, bass, bouzouki
Lynn – vocals, backing vocals
Kerry McNabb – backing vocals, engineer, remixing
Ian Underwood – saxophone
Ruth Underwood – percussion
Sal Marquez – trumpet
Sue Glover – backing vocals
Jim Gordon – drums
Aynsley Dunbar – drums
Tom Fowler – bass guitar
Napoleon Murphy Brock – saxophone, backing vocals
Robert “Frog” Camarena – vocals, backing vocals
Ruben Ladron de Guevara – vocals, backing vocals
Debbie – vocals, backing vocals
Tony Duran – rhythm guitar
Erroneous – bass guitar
Johnny Guerin – drums
Don “Sugarcane” Harris – violin
Ralph Humphrey – drums
Bob Ludwig – Technician
Jack Bruce – bass on “Apostrophe’” (see controversy presented above)
George Duke – keyboards, backing vocals
Bruce Fowler – trombone
Jean-Luc Ponty – violin
Cal Schenkel – artwork, graphic design
Barry Keene – engineer
Ferenc Dobronyl – cover design
Paul Hof – technician
Oscar Kergaives – technician
Brian Krokus – technician
Mark Aalyson – photography
Bob Stone – transfers, digital remastering
Steve Desper – engineer
Terry Dunavan – engineer
Zach Glickman – marketing
Bob Hughes – engineer

One Size Fits All

What on earth is a Florentine Pogen?

This is a conundrum that faces every listener of Zappa’s “One Size Fits All” as soon as the song titled as such begins. There is the initial, albeit superficial, conclusion that the subject of the song is connected somehow with the lore of Italy. After all, a Pogen is a member of the aristocratic class of Florence. But as this Web site reveals, a Florentine Pogen is also a cookie. And given Zappa’s quirkiness, we cannot ignore that possible influence in the song’s origin.

“One Size Fits All” is one of a series of albums released in the years after “The Grand Wazoo” that represent Zappa’s finest work. Zappa, having honed his compositional, recording and playing techniques during the fantastic jazz fusion period he went through during the late 60s and early 70s, took all that he had learned and brought together the brashness of rock music and the story-telling capabilities inherent in a Broadway musical. It kicked off with “Over-nite Sensation” to be followed with “Apostrophe,” and then “One Size Fits All.” This latter album was recorded over a period of five months from December 1974 to April 1975, but many of its songs were already in development. When I saw Zappa play at the field house at Ferris State College in Big Rapids, Mich., on April 28, 1974, he played “Inca Roads.” In fact, I think he opened the show with that tune. I’m pretty sure he played “Titties and Beer” during that show as well, which would be contrary to what is posted about this song at the All Music Guide.



I still prefer the guitar solos on “Over-nite Sensation” primarily because of their sheer energy. But Zappa’s guitar work is brilliant on “One Size Fits All” as well, although I believe in a much more esoteric way than “Over-nite Sensation,” or even “Apostrophe” for that matter; in both those recordings, the guitar work was more mainstream, albeit brilliantly mainstream.

However, I would set myself up a fool if I were to ignore Zappa’s work on “One Size Fits All.” Let’s begin with the beginning and the solo on “Inca Roads.” Apparently, there are others, in addition to me, who think that solo is remarkable on many levels, including Steve Vai. Rhythmically, “Inca Roads” is extraordinarily complex with many abrupt interruptions that apparently frustrated band members like George Duke. But Zappa’s solo, recorded during a Helsinki concert, begins with an ethereal quality that musically combines the emotional opposites of suppression and expression. By the end, his guitar work sends the listener into the ether on a journey that comes very close to religious epiphany punctuated with staccato notes reaching to the quasars. And then there’s George Duke’s frenetic electric piano solo that captures so well the essence of a song that conjures cosmological imagery. The pace is captured vocally as well, juxtaposed with Ruth Underwood’s amazing marimba work. The song closes with an acknowledgement to Underwood’s performance with an “On Ruth, On Ruth, That’s Ruth!”

Initial releases of the album reportedly had a flaw within "Inca Roads" with a barely noticeable skip in the track. Once it was identified, those albums in circulation but unsold were recalled and replaced with corrected versions.

We next jump into “Can’t Afford No Shoes,” one of two rollicking numbers on the record that also includes “Andy.” This is great rock-n-roll with Zappa’s unmistakable flair. And, of course, this song has its own brilliant guitar playing, a bit of Delta blues that sounds like Frank is literally bending the neck on his axe. And there is the “big finish!”

“Sofa No. 1” is simply beautiful. So melodic and still so FZ. Full of bombastic Germanic structure that it almost drips Wagner, but pulled off with such smooth panache, it can bring me near to tears.

Then there’s “Po-Jama People,” which begins with a guitar riff that teases you, foreshadowing another solo that is destined to rip your ears off, ironic considering the song is about people who are boring and soporific.

I already covered the debutante daisy with the color note organ, although there is another inside joke within the song regarding Perellis, who is not a figure from Florentine legend but was Zappa’s manager at the time of the recording.

“Evelyn, A Modified Dog” remains one of my favorite Zappa songs because of its poetic brilliance. But then comes a song that contains a bit of personal arcana right out of Zappa’s life. That reference goes with the verse “Well there’s forty-four men stashed away in Tank C/And there’s only one shower/And it don’t apply to Bob-bee!” Zappa spent time in the San Bernardino County Jail after being convicted of a trumped up indecency charge in 1962.

I mentioned that “Andy” was another fun rollicking tune, although it starts a bit more grandiose than your basic rock-n-roll song. But after the initial question is asked of whether there is anything good inside of you, the guitar gets gritty. I really like this song because it goes to the heart of a belief that is very Buddhist, and that is there is nothing good inside of us. We are neutral. People, of course, misinterpret this notion and twist its expression to mean, well, if there’s nothing good inside of us, then what’s inside of us must be evil. But that is not at all what is being implied in the lyrics. It just means we are what we is, nothing else. By nature, we are very selfish creatures. It is through socialization that we are supposed to learn that by being nice to each other, we get along much better.

“Do you know what I’m really telling you? Is it something that you can understand?”

You have to love Johnny “Guitar” Watson’s vocals at the end of this tune as well, so visceral, so hair-raising, it’s delicious.

Then we have “Sofa No. 2,” with lyrics this time taking the notion that god is everything to its absurd conclusion, that god is the chrome dinette as well. And by the way, we are god’s sofa.

I rate this recording five out of five stars. Add your own rating below.


This post was edited and new content added on Jan. 4, 2009.

Album release date: June 25, 1975, Warner DiscReet Records.

Song tracks:
Inca Roads - 8:45
Can't Afford No Shoes - 2:38
Sofa No. 1 - 2:39
Po-Jama People - 7:43
Florentine Pogen - 5:27
Evelyn, A Modified Dog - 1:04
San Ber'dino - 5:57
Andy - 6:03
Sofa No. 2 - 2:47

Personnel:
Frank Zappa - guitars, vocals
George Duke - keyboards, synthesizers, vocals
Napoleon Murphy Brock - flute, tenor sax, vocals
Chester Thompson - drums
Tom Fowler - bass
Ruth Underwood - percussion
James Youman - bass
Johnny "Guitar" Watson - flambe vocals
Bloodshot Rollin' Red (Captain Beefheart) – harmonica

Over-nite Sensation

Despite what many Zappaphiles may say (and I know many will vehemently disagree with me), “Over-nite Sensation” is the best recording of his entire catalog. Period. And that says a lot because Zappa’s catalog is filled with great albums (check out was this blogger writes). But “Over-nite Sensation” succeeds in so many ways that the others do not.

For one thing, I believe this album has a secure spot among the greatest rock-n-roll albums ever recorded, at least of those I think ought to make that list. It is the epitome of his work in the same way “Who’s Next?” represents the epitome of a Who album, “Diesels and Dust” represents Midnight Oil, or “Nevermind” does for Nirvana. When you think of Carlos Santana, what album comes to mind? For me it’s “Abraxas.” These are albums that very few bands have, an album that pulls together everything about the artist that exists into one package that when you listen to it, no matter how many times, you still say “Wow!” at the end. There are artists that have plenty of great albums, but how many can say that there is one that fully captures the gut of who they are? Lou Reed had many superb albums, but for me, I can’t say that “Transformer” is definitively better than “Magic & Loss” or the Velvet Underground’s first album.

I do not fear the label “hyperbole” when I designate “Over-nite Sensation” to such a category. It truly stands far above anything else Zappa has produced. Consider its irony. The song “The Slime” takes a searing stab at television programming, yet he succeeded in playing the song on “Saturday Night Live.” I can remember watching the show when it aired in 1976, thrilled at the green slime oozing out of the monitors on stage while the song was performed.

Zappa in his autobiography endeavored to portray himself as an unexceptional guitar player, yet his solo on “Montana” is musically, structurally, technically and tonally the best recorded guitar solo I think I’ve ever heard. Better than Keith Richards during “Sympathy for the Devil” on “Get Yer Ya-Ya’s Out!,” better than the guitar battle during “Oh Jim” on “Lou Reed Live,” better, I dare say, than Eric Clapton’s live performance of “Crossroads” on “Wheels of Fire.” And then there’s “Fifty-Fifty,” a song that many discount as being superfluous to the album’s other pieces. Yet again, the irony in the lyrics is palpable. If Alanis Morrisette wants to know what irony is, she needs to pay attention to this album!


Can I get back to the issue of guitar solos? “Zomby Wolf” is another example of Zappa’s god-like guitar work. As of this writing, I am 50 years old. And when I play both “Zomby Woof” and “Montana,” I have to crank the volume to levels that drive my neighbors to call the police. There are just a handful of songs that I do this with: “Sympathy for the Devil” from the Stones’ “Get Yer Ya-Yas Out!,” “Oh Jim” from “Lou Reed Live,” “I Don’t Need No Doctor,” from Humble Pie’s “Rockin’ the Fillmore,” (notice how many of these are from live recordings?) “Black Magic Woman,” from Santana’s “Abraxas,” and, believe it or not, the Edge’s guitar solo on “Exit” from U2’s “The Joshua Tree.”

OK, let me settle down. There are a lot of recorded guitar solos that get me cranked. But make no mistake, the Zappa solos on “Over-nite Sensation” are truly in a class among themselves.

There is another reason I consider this album to be the best among Zappa’s releases: it was musically accessible in a way that none of Zappa’s prior releases had been. From many Zappaphiles, accessibility is the kiss of death. This type of musical chauvinism really strikes me as not only ridiculous, but contrary to Zappa’s own professed thoughts. He wanted albums to be commercially successful. The fact that he expressed disappointment at how poorly “Hot Rats” did upon its release is a clear indication of this. His issue was with how the music industry tended to foster musical mediocrity. In no way did Zappa compromise his musical integrity and genius by producing “Over-nite Sensation.” He just happened to hit upon the right moment for his music to be heard. And heard it was.



I rate this recording five out of five stars. Add your own rating below.

New content was added to this post on Jan. 4, 2009; the entry was edited with a video removed on May 31, 2009.

Album release date: Sept. 7, 1973, DiscReet Records.

Track listings:

"Camarillo Brillo" – 3:59
"I'm The Slime" – 3:34
"Dirty Love" – 2:58
"Fifty-Fifty" – 6:09
"Zomby Woof" – 5:10
"Dinah-Moe Humm" – 6:01
"Montana" – 6:35

Personnel:

Frank Zappa – guitar, vocals on all tracks except "Fifty-Fifty"
George Duke – synthesizer, keyboards
Bruce Fowler – trombone
Tom Fowler – bass
Ralph Humphrey – drums
Ricky Lancelotti – vocals on "Fifty-Fifty" and "Zomby Woof"
Sal Marquez – trumpet, vocals on "Dinah-Moe-Humm"
Jean-Luc Ponty – violin, baritone violin
Ian Underwood– clarinet, flute, alto saxophone, tenor saxophone
Ruth Underwood – percussion, marimba, vibraphone
Kin Vassy – vocals on "I'm the Slime", "Dinah-Moe-Humm" and "Montana"
Tina Turner and the Ikettes - Backing vocals (uncredited)