?? 1971
I Dreamed I Interviewed Frank Zappa In My Maidenform Bra
By David Reitman
ROCK Magazine, ??, 1971
Ever since I inadvertently became a rock and roll journalist, it has been my
ambition to do the interview with Frank Zappa. Most interviews with Zappa
failed, largely because the interviewers didn't know enough to ask him some
really challenging questions or because they kissed his ass. I was going to
avoid the latter, even though Zappa is one of my idols. I would plan the
questions with great care, do the interview in privacy with good recording
equipment. Ha. Anne Marie Micklo our managing editor looked at me one morning
and said, "We've got an interview with Zappa, but we have to go right now." No
time to go to my radio station (WKCR-FM) and get a Tandberg and an Electro Voice
663. No, we grab a crummy Panasonic cassette machine (mistake no. 1), I grab the
three record reviews I have done of Zappa's music – Burnt Weeny Sandwich,
Weasels Ripped My Flesh and Jean Luc-Ponty's King Kong (mistake no. 2) and head
for Zappa's hotel in the rain.
When we arrive, there seems to be a great ambiguity as to when the interview
will start and I annoy Zappa by setting up the microphone in front of him while
he is eating (mistake no. 3). To break the ice, I give him my three reviews. He
looks at them and says, "so you're the one who said that," referring to my
review of Weasels Ripped My Flesh where I criticized one piece, "Prelude to the
Afternoon of a Sexually Aroused Gas Mask," by saying we had heard Motorhead
snork before and besides, Penderecki, Ligeti or Kenneth Gaburo could do it
better (use of chorus). Zappa was pissed and he asked me to prove it. That did
it, my ego was crushed. There was my idol and he was fucking yelling at me,
yelling AT ME! I couldn't answer, I couldn't even speak. Zappa compared the
snorks of Motorhead to the music of Jimmy Reed, a rather dubious
comparison – Reed has worked longer and harder at his craft than Motorhead. Then
he said the composers I mentioned would envy what he could do with a live
chorus. In some cases perhaps, but in this particular case, never.
I felt as if someone had pulled the plug on my adrenalin, and from there on I was an emotional cripple. I reacted to
Zappa's hostility in a predictable way, by knucklin under to him – all right, so I
kissed his ass. His hostility continued as he kept walking away from the
interview to answer the phone, talk, etc. Maybe I was paranoid. But he certainly
didn't seem to enjoy himself. Left with no
defense I tried a cheap trick. I tried to
impress him with my knowledge of
music. After a while he seemed not to hate me so much and the latter part of the
interview was interesting. He showed me some of his scores and even invited
Anne Marie and I to a rehearsal at the Fillmore. Unfortunately, the crummy Panasonic wasn't working
right, so most of that part of the interview was lost so all that is left is the
hostile part.
So I guess this interview is another of a long line of failures, not a total
failure; but it just doesn't get at the essence of the man. Also present in our
cast of characters besides FZ, DR (me) and AMM (Anne Marie) were two other
Mothers, Mark Volman (MV) and Aynsley Dunbar (AD). Have fun. I didn't.
DR: What's
happening with "200 Motels" and other extended orchestral projects?
FZ: You see this box here (points to large trunk in center of room). Well,
there's a reason why that box is sitting here in this room, because I'm finishing
the screenplay for "200 Motels"; we're going to shoot it in England; it's going
to be a United Artists' feature length movie and we're supposed to have a press
conference ... to announce our deal.
DR: Who's making the film?
FZ: Me.
DR:
Can you tell us what's going to happen in the film?
FZ: Yeah. We have the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra and we are in the process of
negotiating with Gunther Schuller to conduct it. He wants to do it. It's just a
matter of figuring out whether we can afford him. There's a 40 voice choir, 12
dancers, Mothers of Invention, new and old.
DR: Are you bringing them all back together for this movie?
FZ: No, just a few
of the members are going to be over there, I have both old film and live
appearances. Don Preston is going to be the monster; Motorhead's going to be one
of the dancers; Jimmy Carl Black's going to play Lonesome Cowboy Bird(?) and-who
else are we negotiating with? Theodore Bikel to be the narrator. And half an
hour of the film is animated.
DR: Who's doing the animation?
FZ: Murakami-Wolf, it's a company in Los Angeles. It's all being designed by
Cal Schenkel.
DR: Have you heard other works using orchestra or choir such as "Atom Heart
Mother" (Pink Floyd) and Quatermass (Peter Robinson)?
FZ: No, I haven't heard any of those.
MV: I've heard both. They're both rather
depressing attempts ...
FZ: The manner in which the orchestra, and chorus and
the other people being combined for this presentation is not, like, "Here it is,
kids, the missing link between rock and roll and classical music." It's a little
bit different concept.
DR: I always thought those things failed because they had
a rock and roll band, and wrote for strings in the style of Schumann or Brahms.
FZ: That's true. And at the same time, you can't have serious music and just
write out some funky guitar-bass ostinato lines and have the string section do
it. Is that what Quatermass is (to Mark)?
MV: Yes (That's not exactly what Quatermass is, but I didn't want to get into another fight, so I kept my mouth
shut. Peter Robinson does occasionally write for strings like Xenakis or
Penderecki – "Laughin' Tackle," for instance). You're talking about what they do,
man. They sit around and think of a way they can impress the public. The only
thing for orchestra I like was the Moody Blues when they did that thing with the
London Philharmonic (I detest the Moody Blues, but I bit my lip, and said
nothing). You know which album I mean?
DR: No.
MV: The first one they did before they started getting successful ...
(By this time Zappa was off talking on the phone)
AMM: What happened to "Uncle Meat"?
FZ: We had money to finish that picture, and
all of a sudden, the people who gave us the money took the money back. I
couldn't do anything more with it. I had 40 minutes of it cut at the time the
money ran out ...
(AMM asks FZ about a particular weekend at the Fillmore, where this girl sang,
but she was so off mike, it was lost)
FZ: That was a great night. In fact, the
two nights we played there, all four shows had stuff in it that looked so
outrageous. And I came up with maybe two albums out of those two nights. Just
crazy. I wonder where that chick is? ... One night we improvised an opera ...
(At this point AMM and FZ discuss the girl who sang. Also at this point the
Panasonic cassette machine decided to fuck up in earnest. Not only was AMM
inaudible, but FZ became progressively more garbled)
FZ: Her name was Shirley Ann. She used to sing in Sweden. I don't know whether
she made records ...
(FZ talks to AD who says that Shirley Ann is a very common name in Sweden)
FZ:
Yeah? I'd like to find about 6 more like Shirley Ann. She was standing backstage
talking with Jimmy Carl Black who tried to get in her pants one time when we
were in Sweden and she wasn't going for it, you know, so he was hustling her and
when he wasn't meeting with too much success back there he decided he would
finally introduce her to the rest of the members of the group. So he said,
"This is Shirley Ann, and she sings." So I said, "Sing." So she sang a couple
of bars and I said, "Would you go on stage with us?" We had to really con her
into coming out there. She said, "What'll I sing?" I said, "Whatever you want."
So she started off singing, "I am made of fire and air, come and touch me ...
"
AMM: "My father was the wind ... "
FZ: She was making up this weird stuff. So Lowell (George) started singing duets,
with her, Motorhead was snorking ...
DR: What are some of the problems for
writing for violin unamplified and Fender bass, and making it sound decent?
(What we call a puny move to re-direct the interview.)
FZ: The problems occur when you try and make it happen as an acoustical
performance. You have to balance the volumes out, because if it's basically a
recording project, we can control it – turn a knob and they're at equal volume.
DR: You don't have a problem writing in your style for either one?
(FZ walks
away and people are talking because AD is leaving. At this point I am getting
desperate. I decide I must convince FZ of my musical literacy)
DR: I'd like to talk now about something that's hinted at on the Freak Out
jacket. You listed a whole bunch of names of contemporary composers,
avant-garde jazz musicians, old R&B people ...
FZ: And other people ...
DR: ... and other people, whom we may or may not know (at this point I was
upset by the photographer who, trying to get a good angle, stepped on me and
then
the microphone). Well, what composers ...
FZ: The only people I would add to it
would be Penderecki and – that would be about it. I'd add Honegger too.
DR: Why
Honegger?
FZ: I like his music, I like the way it sounds. I got about three
albums by him, last year. I listened to them over and over again for about 4
months.
DR: What particular works?
FZ: The Liturgical Symphony, uh, Symphony for Strings and Two Trumpets, the
Pastorale d'Ete, the Chant of Joy. I like that stuff.
DR: What about Penderecki?
FZ: I like his instrumental music more than his choral music. The Violin
Capriccioso I thought was a good piece.
DR: What's that violinist's name ...
(FZ and DR in unison) Paul Zukofsky.
DR: The Threnody (for 52 String Instruments for the Victims of Hiroshima),
have you heard that?
FZ: Yeah, I have two different versions of that.
DR: Yeah, the Victrola and the Phillips
FZ: I like the Victrola one better.
DR:
Why?
FZ: The sound is better.
DR: What about the composers on the
Freak Out album. Could you say why you like them or what elements of their music
have come into yours?
FZ: The only composers I like consistently, I like about 90% of what they write,
are Varèse, Stravinsky and Webern. Just about everything they write, I enjoy.
With lesser degrees of enjoyment for Schoenberg, Berg.
DR: What do you like by
Schoenberg?
FZ: There's this Septet for Baritone voice, mandolin, guitar,
clarinet, cello, violin. I like the Orchestra Pieces, the ones with "Summer
Morning by a Lake"
DR: Oh yeah, Opus 16. 5 Pieces for Orchestra.
FZ: I like most of Bartok too.
DR: I thought so. How about some of the electronic composers you mentioned, like
Kagel, Stockhausen?
FZ: I'm not so impressed by Kagel's electronic music as I
was by this lecture he gave at a college in California, where he played a tape
of a piece called Anagrama. Have you ever heard it?
DR: No.
FZ: I don't think it's released. I got the score to it. It's fantastic. It's for
chorus and percussion, there's a harp in there and a few other things. I'm
surprised they never put that out. But the orchestration was unbelievable. For
instance, in the percussion section there are two giant rolls of paper that these guys have to rip
up on cue. And it's really notated out exactly. They have sheets of tin foil
that they play and it really sounds good. And the chorus is singing phonetic
texts – it's probably the basis of "It Can't Happen Here," and things like that.
DR: I think you quote most from Varèse and Stravinsky.
FZ: You do, can you prove it?
DR: Can I prove it? Well I caught a few quotes from the Rite of Spring and the
Firebird (Stravinsky).
FZ: Uh huh, that's pretty obvious.
DR: And I saw you once
on stage do part of Integrale (Varèse). Did you ever do that?
FZ: Yeah, we did that with the Los Angeles Philharmonic. But we also used to
play the opening oboe line from Octandre. We used to play that all the time.
DR: Did Ian play that on the oboe?
FZ: Nope, we played a screaming fuzz-tone thing (sings it for me). Big crashes
and gongs and shit. We used to throw that in the middle of regular rock and roll
type stuff. We'd play something that sounds like a 1950's saxophone instrumental
and then end it with Octandre.
DR: Absolutely Free is probably the first example of sprechstimme in rock ...
FZ: That's incorrect. The first example of sprechstimme in rock can be
attributed to early blues singers. John Lee Hooker was doing it a long time ago.
All the Delta performers half-talked and half-sung their words.
DR: Did that come from anywhere, that particular section, it sounded like
Schoenberg or Webern, where you were the reciter – was that you?
FZ: "She tickled his fancy, all night long."
DR: I'm not sure about this, but I think I heard a little bit of Satie. Could
that be possible?
FZ: There's no overt quotes from Satie in any of the music. Not like taking the
Lullabye from the Firebird and playing simultaneously against another background
from the Rite of Spring. Like we did in the "Duke o f Prunes."
DR: How have you approached the quote? Have you tried to be as gross as possible
sometimes?
FZ: Sure. As an example, to give you an idea of the intellectual capabilities of
the people who review this music, I've been accused of quotes from "Boris Godunov" – a fantastic array of composers that I've never even listened to, let
alone would rip off any of their music, and stick it in there. But just by
playing part of a Stravinsky number in one of those songs and during an
interview saying to a guy, "Yeah, there's a Stravinsky thing in there," then the
word Stravinsky appears in an article someplace. And the kids who've never even
heard of Stravinsky might say, "Wow. I wonder what the rest of his stuff sounds
like?" The same with Varèse. So in a way I've accomplished a certain
broadening of musical horizons for a small number of people.
DR: Aren't you also accustoming people to the music by playing it on stage?
FZ:
Hardly. Not by the way we do it. They wouldn't even recognize it in most cases
if they heard the original.
DR: Well, after hearing the same riff over and over they might say, "Hey ...
"
FZ: You really think they have that kind of retention?
DR: If they hear Absolutely Free a number of times and they hear "Survivor from
Warsaw" (Schoenberg) they might say, "Hey that sounds like Frank Zappa."
FZ:
(Laughs) Yeah, well I doubt that many of the kids who listen to Absolutely Free
are going to listen to "Survivor from Warsaw ... "
DR: OK, how about some of the
jazz people you mentioned; I think you mentioned Cecil Taylor, Ornette
Coleman ...
FZ: I heard their records in high school ... (Talks to somebody else) ... I like
Eric Dolphy, too.
DR: What particularly did you like by Dolphy?
FZ: An album called Blues and the Abstract Truth.
DR: Oliver Nelson ... (FZ has gotten up to answer the phone) After he comes back
he starts talking to MV about the Fillmore)
DR: We were discussing Eric Dolphy ...
FZ: You heard the album, Iron Man?
DR:
Yeah.
FZ: That's the other one I like.
DR: Well how about blues and r&b of the 50's. You must have liked Excello
records. I noticed you mentioned Lightin' Slim and Slim Harpo.
FZ: Sure. They
were hard to get too.
DR: Where are you from by the way?
FZ: I was born in
Baltimore and raised in California, in the desert, in a town called Lancaster.
DR: How big was it?
FZ: About a hundred thousand population but it was spread out over
maybe 200 square miles.
DR: Did you live on a farm?
FZ: No, I lived on a track of little stucco houses. Okies with cars dying in
their yards. You know how you always have to pull up a Chevrolet and let it
croak on your lawn ...
DR: Did you go to high school there?
FZ: Uh-huh.
DR: Did you find out about R&B in high school?
FZ: I found out about R&B in junior high school.
DR: Where did you find it?
FZ: One day I was listening to the radio and I heard this record come on, it was
"Gee..."
DR: The Crows.
FZ: Yeah, and then "I" by the Velvets, and I said "That's it."
DR: Was there music in your house that you heard?
FZ: We didn't even have a record player.
DR: What was the first music you ever
heard?
FZ: Oh, I had heard background music to soap operas. That was it though. Swing
bands on the radio.
DR: When did you first hear jazz and contemporary music?
FZ: The thing that led
me to Varèse's music was an article in Look Magazine saying how great Sam
Goody's record store was. Sam Goody sells records so well that he can even sell
a record called Ionizations – they even called the album wrong – it was The
Complete Works of Edgar Varèse, Volume I. And they were telling how ugly this
record sounded. It was just drums and sirens and nobody would want to own this
record and Sam Goody was actually selling it.
DR: Was this the one on Columbia.
FZ: The first album was recorded in 1950. He didn't get anything out on Columbia
for another 10 years. This album was EMS – which stands for Elaine Music
Stores –number 401. It had a gray cover. They had two different covers out on it.
One was gray with a big portrait, one was black and white ... The whole thing
was conducted by Waldman ...
DR: Frederic Waldman ...
FZ: Yeah, Frederic Waldman, under the supervision of the composer. And the album
notes were by Finkelstein ... That was the first album I owned, period, but it
was the first record of any kind of music other than rhythm and blues that I was
interested in. It took me almost a year to find that record after I saw that
article and I found it in a store and the guy wanted 6 dollars for it and I said
"6 dollars for a record!" He said, "How much money you got." So I gave him 2
bucks and went away. I had, this little record player this big, with these
little wrought iron legs which made it stand off the table like that and a
speaker on the bottom that blew into the table. You put a quarter on the tone
arm and that's what I used to play that album on over and over again. My parents
forbade me to play it in their presence because the sirens made my mother
neurotic while she was ironing ...
MV: Our first records run so close together. Yours was Varèse and mine was Jan
and Arnie ...
(At this point, the tape becomes totally inaudible for the next ten minutes.
When we join our heroes again, FZ is talking about his early experiences with
recording studios ... )
FZ: ... then we went down to see Dootsie Williams'
place – Dootone Records – we actually stepped into the room where "Earth Angel"
was recorded and it was like going to heaven. There was a piano that appeared to
have shriveled from over-use, a little stumpy piano, the cheapest they could
get, the only thing that would fit into that room, and there was enough room to
have that piano, maybe five guys standing up around a microphone, maybe an
upright bass, maybe one guy hitting a snare drum in the corner, that was about
it. I'm sure most of their group vocal masters were
done in that little room ... In the 50's a lot of the things were to disc but
the way they did this recording was, they had a master disc and they'd do four
or five cuts on the master disc. They'd have like 6 versions of the same song
on a big disc. They chose the one they liked and then played that onto another
disc which became the single master. It was really crude ...
After this interlude of audibility, FZ, DR, MV and AMM fade into oblivion, and
nothing, not even equalization could save them. It was, alas, the best part of
the interview, where Zappa talked about being a high school hood with Don Van
Vliet; early recording sessions and groups with Ray Collins, meeting
Johnny Otis, what he thinks about being misinterpreted as advocating drugs, his
guitar playing, guitars, electronic gadgets. Too bad. But fate was cruel to me
that day. I hope I get a chance to talk to Frank again someday under better
circumstances. I'd like to talk about his high school days (and before) at great
length, for it seems to be the key to much of his imagery, lyrical and musical.
I hope I won't be as paralyzed by fear, so that I can tell Frank why I didn't
like "Prelude to the Afternoon of A Sexually Aroused Gas Mask," because I still
don't like that piece. After all, nobody's perfect, not even one of the geniuses
of contemporary music.
Many thanks to Steve Roncaioli for this entry.
Read by OCR software. If you spot errors, let me know afka (at) afka.net
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