Return Of The Son Of The RateYourMusic Reviews (#5)

(A new installment in my series where I compile some of my reviews posted to RateYourMusic on this blog. These reviews on this post range from 2024 to this year, as it's been a while since I've done one of these.)

Art Guy - Where You Gonna Go / Teenage Millionaire 

With a genre as massive and yet homogenous as 1960s Garage Rock, any band that really manages to get something out of the sound is rightly remembered fondly by modern day enthusiasts (for example, the searing No Friend Of Mine and It's A Cry'n Shame). One song that stands out to me, however, is this one. 

Art Guy was originally the drummer for the surf group New Dimensions, and at the tail end of the 60s would take up the sticks again in the blues group Smokestack Lightnin'. In 1967 however he was encouraged to try a stab at a solo career by Hite and Dorinda Morgan (who were also the Beach Boys' very first producers). Accompanied by them and several musicians from the show Shindig, Guy would hammer out his own self-penned song Where You Gonna Go. 

The song itself, while exhibiting much of the fuzz guitar and low production value traits of regular garage rock, also has infusions of folk added as well, provided through an acoustic guitar and flute accompaniment. Guy's lyrrics paint a picture of a man seemingly shunned and isolated for reasons he is unable to fathom, his life inexplicably on the downturn with no clear path forward. Surprisingly moody subject matter for a track with a pretty soaring guitar solo in the middle, but it just makes the track stand out all the more amidst the deluge of Garage Rock from the time. 

The flip-side, Teenage Millionaire, was written by Dorinda Morgan for Art Guy to record and is much less interesting. Taped at an entirely different session, it's about (predictably) a teenager who rises from nothing to become extremely rich. It wouldn't be so bad, but the production is quite muddy with tons of reverb, and Art Guy simply doesn't put in as powerful a vocal performance. 

Interestingly, despite promo copies being pressed by Valiant Records, the label's folding immediately after meant the song technically never came out at all. It appeared on a few compilations over the years, but it took until 2020 for underground label Hyperloop Records to finally put out an official standalone release (albeit without Teenage Millionaire, possibly due to its lacklustre quality). While even this new reissue is quite rare, the song's quality still rings true half a century later, and helps it rank as one of the best of its day. 

 

The Shaggs - Philosophy of the World 

In an oft-repeated story, the mother of one Austin Wiggin gave her son a palm reading, presenting a series of fortunes that included his daughters would grow up to form a musical group. Upon growing up, the other fortunes that Wiggin was given came true (he married a strawberry-blonde woman and had two sons) and once his daughters came along, he became determined to railroad the final fortune into existence.

He forced his daughters (Dorothy, Betty and Helen, plus occasional involvement from fourth sister Rachel) to begin learning instruments and set them up as a rock band, largely against their own wishes as none of them had any interest in music. He would name them The Shaggs and routinely had them perform at local events to mass ridicule.

By all accounts their father was a controlling and sometimes abusive taskmaster who was determined to mold them into the hitmakers he had been promised by his mother, rarely letting them socialize or do anything except practice. After several years of this, and despite the band still being a laughingstock due to their poor musical ability, Austin decided it was time to take them into the studio “while they were still hot”. The end result has been one of the most confounding records ever released, Philosophy Of The World.

Whatever music lessons Austin Wiggin had given his daughters, it clearly had not stuck as their playing is less than amateurish throughout. Worse yet, he had tasked eldest daughter Dorothy to write a selection of original songs, which made matters worse as she understandably knew very little about songwriting either, so the musical arrangements and lyrics are shambolic and barely coherent. The instruments are quite often played out of tune, the three girls sing with no evident ability, and everything is performed at a slow pace, likely to make it easier for them.

Most evident in this regard is the song “My Pal Foot Foot”, written in tribute to the family cat that was missing a leg. The instruments sound especially discordant, often playing with complete disregard to each other, and the singing only makes things worse. The other songs aren’t much better.

Over the years, this record has gained a cult following among musical enthusiasts (which didn’t come easy, as most of the original copies were stolen by the man Austin paid to press them). Many have described the album as refreshing or have felt that it evokes a charming sort of childlike naivete that’s not often found in music.

I cannot bring myself to agree with that, as this does not feel charming or refreshing. None of the Wiggin sisters sound like they’re having any fun and would rather be doing anything else, only performing on the record to please their father. Even the engineers who recorded the album were able to tell that it was a bad idea, and what becomes clear when listening to it is that none of the sisters had any business playing music (and in fact, if they had their way, they wouldn’t have. It’s telling that after their father’s death in 1975, they immediately dissolved the band and wasted no time in starting their own lives away from his influence).

I find no joy in this record like the liner notes (likely written by the father) suggest, only an empty sadness. Preferably, it shouldn’t have been made at all, and yet it was, ironically fulfilling Austin Wiggin’s fortune in that the Shaggs’ music outlived him and continues to be discussed to this day.

 

Wild Man Fischer - An Evening With Wild Man Fischer 

The life of Larry “Wild Man” Fischer was not a pleasant one. Battling with schizophrenia from an early age, he found himself attempting to make it as a street performer on the Los Angeles Sunset Strip in the late 1960s, singing a variety of self-penned acapella songs for a dime each. It was here that a recently established Frank Zappa found him and was immediately intrigued. Deciding that someone like this ought to be heard by more people, Zappa took Fischer under his wing and assisted him in recording his first album, An Evening with Wild Man Fischer.

What Fischer was likely expecting out of the record was for Zappa to record his singing, and then add musical accompaniment underneath, making it a fully produced album just like Fischer’s many inspirations. Instead, Zappa (likely without consulting Fischer even once) made the record more of a dissection of the man, leaving the songs are untouched acapellas and adding in various additional recordings to illustrate the type of person he was.

On the one hand, many of Fischer’s acapella recordings are genuinely interesting, as he clearly had a decent sense of time and rhythm, which helps to illustrate how he managed to obtain a small fanbase among the visitors of the Sunset Strip. He would sing about various, usually nonsense, topics with a reckless abandon that bizarrely works. The two best songs on the record are “The Twister” and “The Circle”, both of which feature catchy rock backdrops that lend themselves well to Fischer’s vocals, and paint a picture of what the album could, and probably should, have been.

On the other hand, Zappa’s insistence on providing an “unbiased” look on Larry Fischer results in several tracks which makes his actions as producer seem a lot more exploitative. This is especially evident in the last two sides, which feature numerous uncut sections where Fischer is just left rambling in the studio, either explaining how he wrote some of his songs or going off on various incoherent tangents. Not only are these songs not musical, they only seem to exist to point a finger at Fischer and go “Look how crazy this man is”.

Most worrying of all is the closing track “Larry Under Pressure”, in which Fischer expresses irritation at Frank for being asked to delve into his past experiences, and with a worrying degree of self-awareness reminds him of how society has basically abandoned him due to his illness, writing him off as “crazy” and locking him away so he won’t embarrass them. The fact that Zappa saw fit to put this conversation on the record was extremely unfair to Fischer and gives off the impression that he saw the man less as a person and rather as an amusing circus freak.

The album ended up selling poorly and also reviewed poorly, both of which angered Fischer as he had expected it to be his shot at the big time. He and Zappa’s relationship would slowly deteriorate, peaking in an incident in which he threw a glass ashtray at him, nearly hitting Zappa’s infant daughter Moon Unit, which sparked the end of their working relationship.

Fischer would record a handful more albums in the following years, but would also continue to battle with his demons, though thankfully died in relative comfort. Although his clear passion for music is evident throughout and often infectious on this record, it is spoiled by Zappa essentially putting this mentally ill man under a spotlight, giving a picture of him that most people would ideally have no business seeing.

 

David Bowie - LiveAndWell.com

Although far from the most famous or well-regarded David Bowie live album, Liveandwell.com is perhaps one of the most interesting, though it comes down a lot to the context of its release.

In 1997 Bowie had just completed his Earthling tour, and was pleased enough with how it had gone that he decided to immortalize it with a live album. To that end, he and several members of his backing band selected 10 tracks, containing songs from his last two albums, for release. To my knowledge this makes Liveandwell.com one of the only Bowie live releases to have been overseen by the man himself during his lifetime, and certainly the only one in which he had a direct hand in compiling it. Unfortunately, Bowie’s then-label Virgin were unwilling to release it, likely due to the lack of “classic” material, so it sat in limbo for over two years.

Around the same time, Bowie would partner with an internet startup UltraStar to produce a special subscription service named BowieNet. Part fanclub and part ISP, it was designed both to act as a hub for his fans to interact and view exclusive material, but also offered free hosting space for them to upload and showcase their own creations (5MB worth, a huge amount in the late 90s). Although expensive, it proved to be an immense success, and would remain active for the better part of a decade.

Around the turn of the millennium, Bowie’s attention returned to his shelved live album, and decided to make use of it by using BowieNet to turn it into the first “Virtual CD.” For most of 1999 and 2000 members of BowieNet could submit artwork and short written pieces which would be included in the package, allowing them to directly contribute to an official release. The CD was made available exclusively to BowieNet members (as well as new subscribers who signed up in the release window) in September 2000, before going out of print seemingly for good.

As for the actual content of the live album itself, it’s remarkably solid. As it only focuses on Bowie’s 90s material, it will likely not gain much attention from those who only enjoy his “classic” years, though it will likely resonate with those that have a healthy interest in that period. Although Bowie was 50 years old at the time of the Earthling tour, neither his energy nor his voice had diminished, and the various cuts from both Outside and Earthling gain an extra level of energy that adds a lot to the songs. The sound quality is also excellent, likely due to how closely Bowie was involved on it.

Original releases of Liveandwell.com also came with a bonus CD with four Earthling era remixes. The remixes themselves will likely only be of vague interest (though there is also an appearance of the otherwise unreleased “Fame” reworking “Fun”), but the enhanced content on this CD is a great time capsule of what BowieNet was like at that time. It includes a Bowie themed web browser, an archive of the actual Liveandwell.com website with various additional submissions from fans, and even a special Worlds.com hub named “BowieWorld”, which the man himself also assisted in designing and also apparently used to appear in before his hiatus in 2004.

In 2020, the album would finally be reissued as part of the Bowie estate’s “Brilliant Live Adventures” series, with two bonus tracks in the form of the rare “Tao Jones Index” 12” that appeared in 1997. Although it is missing the bonus CD, it is both available on streaming and a great way to get the album physically without having to pay through the nose, making checking it out almost trivial.

 

Syd Barrett - The Best of Syd Barrett: Wouldn't You Miss Me? 

In my mind this is the very best collection of Syd Barrett's solo material to ever be released. It's by some distance the longest, doesn't muddy the waters by trying to throw in anything from his time in Pink Floyd (as good as that stuff is), and has the finest selection of songs from each of his albums.

I don't think it's a stretch to say that both the albums that he recorded, whether it was The Madcap Laughs or Barrett, were pretty uneven and plagued with mediocre or even substandard numbers (seriously, whoever thought it was a good idea to release "If It's In You" must have done it to spite him, because it's just awful). It's a shame because both of them contain many incredible songs, but the weaker numbers hamper their power somewhat.

This compilation fixes that, I feel. It collects the best material from both, plus a couple of the better tracks from his 1988 leftovers release Opel. Perhaps they could have included more from there, but seeing as most of the unique stuff on it appeared to be unfinished sketches, the four we do get are fine inclusions. The title track especially deserved to be acknowledged like this.

Also, for those who have to have everything, there are a pair of rare numbers thrown in for good measure too. "Two Of A Kind" was done at a Peel Session and is a jolly little number, while "Bob Dylan Blues" was uncovered specifically for this album. It's interesting to hear Syd do almost a pastiche song, and compared to a lot of the unreleased stuff on Opel it's surprisingly coherent and developed. Pretty good.

In short, if you only had to buy one Syd Barrett CD, make it this one. If you want all the rest, track down the individual albums, but I genuinely think all the most essential material is here. The sound is great too, doesn't feel too compressed or loud.

 

John Larkin - Before Scatman: Early Sessions

It's a well known fact that before he became the Scatman, John Larkin was an extremely talented Jazz pianist and vocalist who, though he remained mostly under the radar, nonetheless carved his own niche. His out-of-print self titled debut from 1986 is a great example of just how good at it he was, but at long last, Iceberg Records has blessed us with a new release of archival recordings dating all the way back from 1978, when he was only 35-36 years old.

To my great delight, these recordings are not piano-only home demos like you might expect from something this relatively early in his career, but are instead full studio quality with an actual backing group of fellow Jazz musicians. This alone would make it of interest, but John actually provides some vocals as well, including a little of his trademark scat singing! It would seem that he included it as part of his music much earlier than I had assumed, even if it was another few years until he was encouraged to do it in public performances.

The four songs present here (presumably the only four to be recorded at this particular session) all appear to be original compositions from John, and feature excellent showcases of his piano and voice, plus the accompaniment by the backing players. As he's way younger than we've heard him before here, his singing is a little bit clearer, but it's still the same tone and energy that you would hope. The instrumental track with his scatting on top is insane, and might rank as one of the most intense jazz piano performances I've ever heard. There's also an early version of the song Love Cry, which he would eventually revisit for his self-titled debut.

All in all, this is an excellent little release; a little modest considering how little has come out since his passing but still well worth the unearthing. The world needs more Jazz from the Scatman. Here's hoping this isn't the last of it that we get.

So It's Come To This... A Look Into The World Of Zappa Alumni Solo Albums

So, you've listened to Frank's complete 62 'canon' records, then all of the posthumous stuff that came out after he passed away, then the bootlegs... and you still want more. But where is there to go from here? The answer isn't too surprising: the solo albums by those who worked in his bands over the decades.

As one might expect, many of the members of Frank's band had creative exploits outside of his orbit. Some of it was after departing from his employ, while in other cases it came about while they were still touring with him. Either way, quite a few of these emerged over the years, and I want to talk about them.

While I don't plan to highlight every albums released by those who have worked with Frank, I added a few additional caveats to focus my search: they have to have come out in Frank's lifetime, from people who toured with him at least once, and they couldn't just be tribute records filled with his compositions; they had to be standalone. And by adhering to these, I managed to separate a handful that are especially noteworthy.

So let's dive in!

 

Geronimo Black - Self-Titled (1972)

After the original Mothers Of Invention broke up, Jimmy Carl Black started his own band, Geronimo Black, named after one of his sons. Along with various other musicians (such as former Love member Tjay Cantrelli) a few other MOI players joined, including Buzz and Bunk Gardner, and future Zappa touring guitarist Denny Walley. Ray Collins also briefly hovered around, but left before they recorded their first and only album in 1972.

The best way I can describe this record is a mixture of bluesy hard rock with a little folk and country sprinkled in. Interestingly, the band was very decentralized in design, so despite JCB being the founder, he wasn't really the frontman, and he only sings lead on the opening and closing tracks (plus the B-side '59 Chevy). The other songs feature vocals from the other members of the band, alongside a pair of instrumental tracks. It actually ends up working out well, as each of them brings a different flavor to their spotlight piece.

It's not a bad album at all, and certainly an interesting release after JCB's tenure in the Mothers, and I'd recommend it for any fans of Frank's 1960s albums. Geronimo Black would break up not long after it came out, but a reformed lineup would morph into The Grandmothers in the 80s, a conglomerate of former Zappa alumni which still continues to this day.

(Recommended tracks: Low Ridin' Man, Let Us Live, An American National Anthem) 

 

George Duke - Feel (1974)

George Duke was probably one of the most noteworthy members of the final MOI lineup, and so it's neat that he put out a few solo records during his time in the band. One of the best in my opinion is 1974's Feel, which to me pretty heavily resembles Herbie Hancock's synth-heavy work from around the same time (which is great as I happen to love fusion era Hancock). Most of it's instrumental, though Duke brings out his vocals on a few cuts. Frank even makes an appearance, contributing guitar to two songs. All in all, pretty good.

(Recommended tracks: Love, Feel) 

 

 

Air Pocket - Fly On (1975)

Featuring brothers Walt, Tom, and Bruce Fowler, who all made prominent appearances in Frank's discography (their brothers Ed and Steve Fowler perform on this record as well), Fly On is a pretty solid Jazz Fusion record that only came out in Japan (as a lot of 70s Jazz did). Sort of reminds me again of Herbie Hancock, though also quite a bit of Bitches Brew era Miles Davis. Tight as hell, and pretty fast paced too. Definitely worthwhile for Jazz Fusion enthusiasts.

(Recommended track: Delicate Essence) 

 

 

 

Missing Persons - Spring Session M (1982)

This album's especially noteworthy, as every original member of the band Missing Persons worked with Frank in some manner: Terry Bozzio, Patrick O'Hearn and Warren Cuccurullo had all played in his band in the 70s, while lead singer Dale Bozzio had been the voice of Mary on Joe's Garage (even keyboard player Chuck Wild would go on to contribute piano on Thing Fish).

Befitting of the time period, this record is a synth-and-guitar based new-wave mixture, and boy does it hit hard. The band's experience working with Zappa isn't for naught, as they play well together, and Dale Bozzio very much comes into her own as a vocalist. The songs are pretty catchy too, and it's not hard to see how some of them had the potential to be real hits.

Spring Session M was actually the most successful album out of the ones that I listened to for this deep dive, as it saw release on Capitol Records and managed to hit the top 20 in the US. Sadly the group never hit the same success afterwards, and over time steadily fell into obscurity, with Dale Bozzio being the only original member still in the band today. Which is a shame, as this record is absolutely excellent, and a hidden gem in the early New Wave era. Go check it out ASAP.

(Recommended tracks: Noticeable One, Windows, Walking In L.A.) 

 

Ike Willis - Should'a Gone Before I Left (1987)

It seems timely to comment on this album, seeing as Ike recently passed away. His debut album came out on Enigma Records around the time Frank would have begun arranging rehearsals for his final 1988 tour, so the overall production (as well as Ike's vocal performance) is very similar, with a lot of 80s digital reverb.

This record has tinges of new-wave, soul and a few other sounds all at play (for me, it's hard to pinpoint an exact style). It's not a slouch of an effort, with a decent band, and it's interesting to hear Ike's own songwriting efforts, which range from contemporary issues to what I believe are riffs on sci-fi. Ray White, a fellow Zappa bandmember, features heavily throughout, contributing various vocals (Arthur Barrow also apparently co-wrote the CD-only track 'Resolution', which is interesting).

This is a pretty solid record, with plenty of Ike's trademark vocal style, and it's a real shame that it's not more well known. The cover art is pretty kickass too.

(Recommended tracks: Biznis As Usual, Miss You Well, Hollow Earth) 

 

There are other albums made by former Zappa players out there, but these five are the ones that I think are the most interesting and overlooked. If you're still hungry for more, here's a few extras that I'm aware of but haven't listened to in length at the time of writing:

Jeff Simmons - Lucille Has Messed My Mind Up (1969) (features a couple of Zappa originals that he would later do his own versions of)

Jean-Luc Ponty - King Kong: Jean-Luc Ponty Plays the Music of Frank Zappa (1970) (this is a cheat on my part, but it might be the very first album by another musician dedicated to performing versions of Frank's songs, so deserves being highlighted)

Little Feat - Sailin' Shoes (1972)

Don Harris - Sugar Cane's Got the Blues (1972)

Flo & Eddie - The Phlorescent Leech & Eddie (1972)

L. Shankar - Touch Me There (1979) (Dead Girls Of London is especially good)

Steve Vai - Flex-Able (1984)

Patrick O'Hearn – Ancient Dreams (1985)

The Bears - Self-Titled (1987)

Ed Mann – Get Up (1988)

Chad Wackerman - Forty Reasons (1991)

Mike Keneally - hat. (1992)

Butthole Surfers - After The Astronaut 1998 VS 2026: A Mix Comparison

I've been listening quite a bit to the new release of the long-lost After The Astronaut, which has finally seen its own release nearly 30 years after Capitol Records cancelled it and Hollywood Records mandated it be reworked into the heavily compromised Weird Revolution.

Although interestingly, this new release of the album isn't the exact same version that was submitted to Capitol in 1998 (and which subsequently circulated on bootlegs). Instead, Paul Leary decided to put together a fresh mix for its first commercial edition, and to assist those who might be confused, I decided to do a track-by-track comparison between the two to list any noteworthy differences that I came across, and how much they change the songs:

1. Weird Revolution: Although this version uses the same skeleton as the 1998 version, including Gibby's original monologue, some of the samples used in the 2001 reworking of the track have been slipped in (which I don't mind too much). Most concerning for purists will be that the 1998 mix's prominent flute sample is missing, and a new extended outro has been provided to accommodate its absence. I personally don't mind this, actually, as I kinda feel like the flute didn't fit the original very well.

2. Intelligent Guy: More or less the same as the 1998 version, but with more prominent bass.

3. Jet Fighter: Mostly the same as the 1998 version, though I did notice that a portion of Gibby singing "Jet Fighters Never Die" has been added to the intro. Not a bad change, helps set the tone of the track a little. I also noticed that the vocals are more prominent, especially towards the end.

4. Mexico: For some reason Mexico and Imbuya's places on the tracklist have been swapped compared to the 1998 running order. Other than that, it appears to be more or less the same as the 1998 version with a touched up mix.

5. Imbuya: More or less the same as the 1998 version, with a touched up mix.

6. Venus: Mostly the same as the 1998 version, though the outro comes in slightly earlier and is supplemented by a sample of someone saying "Cause I'm Jesus Christ, and it's probably due to the rice". No clue who it is that says it.

7. The Last Astronaut: Although the song is mostly the same as the 1998 version, I can't help but think that some of the samples have been moved down in the mix somewhat, especially towards the middle. Gibby's vocals have also had a filter applied to them so they sound less clear.

8. Yentel: More or less the same as the 1998 version.

9. Junkie Jenny In Gaytown: Another song which'll likely be a sore spot to purists, as the integral Bollywood vocal sample the song is built around is pitched down compared to the 1998 version. This might be a dealbreaker to some, depending on how well you're able to deal with the change. Personally, I don't mind it too much, though I can see how people might be put off. Interestingly, while the 1998 version fades out, this one keeps going in an extended outro, ending up a good 40 seconds longer.

10. They Came In: Mostly seems to be the same as the original, though I did notice a difference in how the drum track's mastered, so it's got a bit more of a clang to it. Also, while the 1998 version appears to open with a bit of electronic drums before moving into live ones, here the live drums are present throughout.

11. I Don't Have A Problem: More or less the same as the 1998 version, though I did detect some added reverb to the telephone samples.

12. Turkey And Dressing: The last song on the record, and another one that received some more substantial changes. The bridge has had some vocal samples removed, and the outro has been changed to add an odd synth bleep as the fadeout (and there's also a bit of guitar feedback from the intro that's been snipped out). Admittedly the new burp transition out of the bridge and to the following verse is pretty funny, and totally on brand for the group. Also, the guitar solo appears to have been double-tracked in the new mix.

And that's your lot, as far as I can tell. Obviously one of the most pressing questions will be: why change anything? Why mess with the original? Well, while I can only speculate, my assumption is that it's precisely because the 1998 mix got rejected by the label and never came out, so that version never had a chance to be canonized. And now, with nearly 30 years of hindsight, maybe a few touchups made sense to Paul Leary and co. before finally sending it out to the masses.

Overall, I don't mind this new version at all. It's definitely still the overall same album, and it's still a lot better than 2001's The Weird Revolution. The bass is noticeably clearer in this new mix, and there aren't any changes from the 1998 version that ruined it for me. Obviously your mileage may vary, and if you've grown up listening to the bootlegged Capitol version (which I haven't really), you may take more issue with it. In any case, I wanted to throw my thoughts in as best I can.

Ween - Bring Out The Foos (REVIEW)

After many years of no new content, a new archival Ween live record has finally seen release, brought to us by Rhino Records. And as I recently acquired a copy, I decided to review it.

First off, the era it focuses on is pretty interesting, that being a brief return to the DAT shows during a tour opening for the Foo Fighters. By the time of the shows of this CD, they hadn’t played with it in 3 years, having spent the intervening time recording & touring with a full band lineup for Chocolate & Cheese. So, a return to their early constrained performances that left little room for jamming or improvising like they had already gotten used to on the C&C tour (not to mention that they’re back to opening for other artists) is worth investigating.

The track-list is absolutely stacked, with almost all the recognizable live favorites from Ween’s first four album’s being accounted for. There’s also Piss Up A Rope from the then-recorded-but-unreleased 12GCG, and even a version of The Golden Eel over a year before The Mollusk would hit the shelves. The C&C material is interesting to hear with the DAT, having previously been done live with Andrew Weiss on bass and Claude on drums, so are arguably closer to the original studio versions than any others that I’ve heard.

The three years of musical progression since their last DAT shows isn’t for naught either, as the recordings are perhaps more together and less chaotic than something like the 1992 Cat’s Cradle show. This isn’t the sound of two young troublemakers playing to maybe 10 people on a good night; they well-known enough by now to be opening for Dave Grohl’s band, and they don’t screw around too much outside of some chatter between songs.

Perhaps that means there’s less spontaneity, but even without a proper bassist or drummer they do all these songs justice. Gene sings well (the occasional vocal delay effects add a nice psychedelic tone to some songs) and his and Dean’s guitar work is as good as ever, with an added crunch for good measure. The crowd doesn’t sound too bad either, not quite as hostile as the store page’s description implied. The Foo Fighters’ fans were likely pretty appreciative, or as much as you can hope for an opening band.

My only complaint about this release is that the packaging leaves a lot to be desired: it’s just a standard paper sleeve like you’d see on a vinyl record, so no liner notes aside from the credits on the back. It is wide enough to have a spine with the album title on, oddly enough, but not much more than that. All you really get with this is the music on the disc, which luckily is good.

All in all, this is a solid addition to the band’s live discography, sort of being a final transition away from their early years before entering the state they would remain in for the rest of their career. And if it’s true that a new distribution deal has been struck with Rhino, this might not be the last thing we see. A proper repress of their previous live stuff would be fab (Live at Stubb’s, anyone?) and The Mollusk’s 30^th anniversary is right around the corner, so perhaps a deluxe edition is on the cards. Fingers crossed!

Now to see if this actually gets a proper digital release, or if people are gonna have to rely on unofficial YouTube uploads to hear it…

1983: The Beginning Of The End For Frank Zappa (A Personal Observation)

(Been another long spell without any new posts on this blog. Not that I haven't been writing, I've mostly just been doing it elsewhere. For example, I've been posting a few different extended writeups on Reddit, all of them related to music. And as I just remembered that this blog exists, I figured I'd mirror them here.)

 

So, when you hear some of the discussions about Frank Zappa's "golden years", a lot of people put a hard barrier on everything past 1979. Everything released after Joe's Garage is quite often dismissed for various reasons, but primarily as being lower quality, not as good as his previous work, and not worth considering on the same level.

I disagree. To me, 1979 isn't where Frank's discography took a turn. I believe that, as stated in the title, 1983 is the true demarcation line.

First of all, there's the fact that, far from taking a tumble right on the turn of the decade, Frank was very much still in his stride in the early 80s. 1980 saw the completion of his personal UMRK studio, and he inaugurated it with the recording sessions for his 1981 LP "You Are What You Is", which IMO is Frank's most underrated album. That same year also saw the release of his triple-album guitar solo extravaganza "Shut Up N' Play Yer Guitar."

His live shows were very much still going strong as well, with his 81-82 tours in high regard with hardcore fans. Plus, he had the biggest hit of his career with "Valley Girl" in 1982, which as much as some people are annoyed by, I can't bring myself to hate.

But then you hit 1983, and a few variables start to come in all at once that point towards a perceived dip in quality. To illustrate this, here are what I believe to be the four most important ones that contributed to it:

1. Frank didn't tour or perform live at all in 1983, marking the end of a nearly 18 year streak of live performances and tours. This can't have done a lot for inspiring him to write new material, seeing as live performances was one of the main outlets for test-driving his songs by then. Even when Frank returned to the road in 1984, things weren't the same and that tour isn't as well regarded. Various elements of that tour, from the drum sound to the weird instrumentation and stilted keyboard section, have left a lot of people unimpressed.

2. 1983 was the year in which the UMRK studio went digital. Frank was one of the earliest adopters of digital recording equipment, and he proved as such with the recording of his London Symphony Orchestra album that year, which was entirely recorded and mixed in digital. From this point on he would work exclusively with digital sound, resulting in the "sterile" audio quality a lot of people complain about regarding the album mixes he turned out during this period.

3. Around late 1982-early 1983, Frank acquired his own Synclavier (a computer synthesizer), and it very quickly became his tool of choice when making music. All of a sudden, he no longer needed a rock band, or even an orchestra, to see his works played. He could do it all himself, and without even needing to go near a guitar to do it. This effected his future projects greatly, even the ones not specifically centered around the Synclavier. "The Man From Utopia", "Them Or Us" and "Frank Zappa Meets The Mothers Of Prevention", his last primarily 'rock' studio albums, were mostly compiled from material recorded live and at UMRK back in 1981 and 1982. This was because after that point, aside from a few one-offs and a session with Johnny 'Guitar' Watson in 1983, he was no longer bringing his band to the studio to cut new material. Even "Thing-Fish", originally started as a more rock-infused project, ended up being smothered with Synclavier overdubs, which likely hasn't helped its poor reception over the years.

4. He had just regained the rights to his back catalogue, and remastering it all (and partially re-recording in some cases) so they could be reissued as the "Old Masters" series took up a lot of his time that otherwise would have gone to recording new stuff. Then, even after those box sets were out the door, he was compiling and releasing the "You Can't Do That On Stage Anymore" series, and then after that he was remastering his back catalogue AGAIN for release on the new Compact Disc format. And that's not even mentioning the many other archival releases that occupied Frank's energy in his final years, some of which only saw release posthumously. Not a lot of free time to make records in between all that.

Fortunately there was a brief respite as Frank returned in 1988 for another tour, featuring a great band and a few newly written songs, which made for some solid live albums. And of course his final years saw the completion of "The Yellow Shark" and "Civilization Phaze III", which allowed him to finally see his orchestral work performed to satisfaction. But there's no denying that his "new" music saw a downward turn from 1983 onwards, not helped by the fact that he put out no new studio material after 1986's "Jazz From Hell" (which admittedly is not a bad listen). It's a shame that this ended up happening, as the 1988 tour proved that he was very much still capable of delivering the goods.