Oct. 7, 1977 review: Frank Zappa in Memorial Auditorium

 


Any time Frank Zappa comes to town in the 1970s, I am invariably right there.

Oct. 7, 1977 review 

Nihilism in Rock

Is Old Hat to Zappa 

          When Frank Zappa’s got an inspiration, the clues aren’t hard to spot. A year ago, there were the disco clothes and the big beat of “Bionic Funk.” This time around he has a black T-shirt with no sleeves and greased-back hair.

          As he opens his two-hour concert Thursday night in Memorial Auditorium before about 8,000 rowdy, fireworks-popping fans, he veers off from the daffy “Peaches En Regalia” and settles on the most hideous number from last year’s show – “The Torture Never Stops,” a grisly saga inspired by political developments in South America.

          Yes, this is the night of the iron sausage. The New Wave is old hat to Zappa. He’s been making his own rules and thumbing his nose at convention ever since his first album, “The Mothers of Invention Freak Out,” in the mid-1960s.

          Even so, it’s hard to know whether to laugh, grimace or call suicide prevention when drummer Terry Bozzio screams out the lyrics to the next hot and heavy anthem to frustrated teenhood: “I Wanta Be Dead.”

* * *

BOZZIO, a carry-over from the Bionic Funk band, is the most colorful member of Zappa’s current sextet of refugees from the middle class. He pounds the tom toms as if he were a blacksmith straightening an axle, his frizzy heap of hair leaping at every beat.

          Zappa, meantime, sits cross-legged with his guitar, smoking a cigarette and nodding abstractly to the rhythm. After Bozzio, everybody gets a turn. Bassist Patrick O’Hearn, the only other Bionic Funk alumnus, turns his solo from a loose, beguiling doodle to a forceful double-string stomp.

          Most unlikely member is clean-cut guitarist Adrian Belew. In his baggy parachute suit, he looks like he’s AWOL from the Air Force Chorus. As an apprentice to Zappa, he’s still learning how to swing his guitar.

          Belew may be a bit awkward, but he’s got talent. His imitation of harmonica-toting Bob Dylan is a scream. He’s also an aggressive purveyor of special effects in his guitar solos. When he overloads his creative flight and it falters in the middle of “Disco Boy,” the rest of the band kicks up the tempo and supports him until he regains his equilibrium.

* * *

KEYBOARDMAN Tommy Mars, with his googly goggle, scat-sings so skillfully he sounds like a flute. “Percussoid” Ed Mann ranges around his collection of noisemakers like a mad surfer in striped knee-pants and socks, whacking the xylophone in twinkling unison with the band’s malevolent machine-gun ensemble riffs.

          Zappa, as usual, can’t resist infusing his gross-outs with a little serious high-brow music. “Disco Boy,” that sneering X-rated diatribe, uses atonality so dramatically that Stravinsky would envy it.

          Zappy figures, rightly, that if the denimed teenage drinkers and tokers out there get enough of the crude and the ridiculous, they’ll sit still while he slips them some Good Music. As a punk-rocker, though, he drops most of his lampooning and goes straight for the outrageous.

          In one tune, he argues with the Devil (Bozzio in a horned mask), who has taken his woman and his beer. In another, he sings about the Phlegs, a breed of Southern Californian who don’t know the first thing about their jobs.

* * *

“THE PLUMBERS don’t know anything about pipes,” he explains, “the TV men don’t know anything about electricity and the mechanics don’t know anything about cars. You go in and ask them: ‘Where’s my motor?’ They say it was eaten by snakes.”

          But occasionally the show drags. One reason is because Zappa does quite a bit of sitting and cigarette smoking. Another is because the compact sound system doesn’t deliver the vocals and the nuances of the ensemble playing to anyone sitting further away than the soundman.

          The lengthy double encore is like dessert after a naked lunch. Zappa unlocks his hair from its ponytail, puts on a New York Yankees baseball cap and recounts those sleazy amorous tales of his past – “Dynah-Moe Humm” and (with one last Dylan imitation) “Camarillo Brillo.”

          Zappa’s reward comes in the form of a strawberry blonde young thing named Judy. She climbs on stage for the finale, throws a righteous hug on the master and gives him the kind of look the girls are always giving Fonzie. Zappa may wind up being the Fonz of the ‘70s.

* * * * *

IN THE PHOTO: Poster for the Halloween 1977 show in New York’s Palladium.

* * * * *

FOOTNOTE: Zappateers.com has recordings of many of the shows on this tour, but not Buffalo. Here’s what went down at Cobo Hall in Detroit on Sept. 30. 

Intro

Peaches En Regalia

The Torture Never Stops

Tryin’ to Grow a Chin

City of Tiny Lights

Pound for a Brown

Conehead

Flakes

Big Leg Emma

Envelopes

Disco Boy

I Promise Not to Come in Your Mouth

Wild Love

Titties ‘N Beer

The Black Page

Jones Crusher

Broken Hearts Are for Assholes

Punky’s Whips

Dinah-Moe Humm

Camarillo Brillo

Black Napkins 

          The setlist.fm song report for Buffalo is woefully incomplete, but includes "Muffin Man" as a song in the encore. 

          The band is captured for once and for all on “Halloween 77,” a three CD box set containing 158 tracks from shows at the Palladium in New York City over Halloween weekend. The personnel list for those dates includes a few names that weren’t mentioned in my review – Roy Estrada on gas mask and vocals, Phil Kaufman, “human trombone,” Thomas Nordegg, “some magic tricks,” and Peter Wolf on keyboards. Four of the six Palladium shows also were filmed for his movie project “Baby Snakes.”

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Oct. 21, 1977 feature: Andy Kulberg of the Blues Project

Nov. 4, 1977 Gusto feature: A day with Debby Boone

Nov. 11, 1977 record review: Spyro Gyra's debut album