Saturday 13th January
Frank Zappa. When I first heard the name, and saw his face with that ridiculous moustache, I was sure it was made up. But actually it was all too real. Of Mexican heritage, Frank was actually an All-American kid. But not only that…a brilliant musician from an early age. He fell in love with Rock and Roll in the Fifties and interspersed writing very modern Classical music with playing in local bands. But this was only the beginning – Frank was in the forefront of the West Coast music scene, with it’s many manifestations. He recruited a band of brilliant musicians but definitely weird misfits and called them the Mothers of Invention.
His first few albums were superb, if somewhat erratic and uneven in quality. But Frank has been nothing if not prolific. Even by the busy standards of the time Frank was knocking out records at a ridiculous pace. Often live concerts, where he was joined by John Lennon and Yoko and famously by Flo and Eddie from the Turtles. Mixing comedy with outrageously complex guitar instrumentals Frank moved through various musical genres, with apparent disregard for his audience.
By the late Seventies he had dropped the Mothers and released a string of superb recordings. My favourites are Sheik Yerbouti, and Joe’s Garage (a triple album narrated by ‘The Central Scrutiniser’ about how in the near future Joe comes unstuck by playing ‘Music’).
I tried but failed miserably to keep up with Frank’s output, which if anything, seemed to speed up as he got into the Eighties. I saw him once, at Hammersmith Odeon, where he played nearly all new songs that later appeared on records, but he was brilliant.
He continued writing both Classical and Rock music until his sad early death in the mid-nineties (he had a perpetual cigarette alight while playing). But his recordings have continued long after his death. He never stopped composing and committing music to tape. I very rarely buy his records now, but love playing the old favourites.