Frank Zappa makes a 1978 appearance on Make Me Laugh, an awful looking game show hosted by Bobby Van. Zappa nearly wordlessly promotes his then new Sheik Yerbouti album and wins a member of the studio audience a lot of consumer items by not laughing at Gallagher and another completely unfunny comic.

You can clearly tell that he hated every second of this.
 

 
I see this Frank Zappa quote pop up on my Facebook feed from time to time and I think it needs to be parked right here on Dangerous Minds, too. Advice like this never gets old.

 
What becomes apparent is that one documentary is not enough to cover the life, times and creative career of Frank Zappa. This one, recorded the year of his sad and untimely death, tries very hard and does capture much of what was best loved about the great man.

Originally shown on BBC 2’s The Late Show (now there was a pretty funky arts series, one that’s still missed) on July 23 1993, it contains one of Zappa’s last (lengthy) interviews (full meat and gravy), as well as contributions from a host of diverse supporting players - The Mothers to The Dubliners to Matt Groening, plus full pics and story.
 

 
Previously on Dangerous Minds

Jim “Motorhead” Sherwood, standing, top left

Sad to hear that Jim “Motorhead” Sherwood, one of the original Mothers of Invention (atonal saxes, nasal noises, tambourine, vocals), died on Christmas day, at the age of 69.

As reported in The Guardian, Sherwood:

... was a member of Frank Zappa’s original Mothers of Invention. He appeared on all the group’s early albums, up to and including Weasels Ripped My Flesh (1970), as well as on Zappa’s solo disc Lumpy Gravy. He later performed with the Grandmothers, a group of musicians who had accompanied Zappa during different phases of his career.

Born in Arkansas City, Kansas, Sherwood first met Zappa in 1956 when both of them were attending Antelope Valley high school in California. Sherwood was in the same class as Frank’s brother: “Bobby found out that I collected blues records and he introduced me to Frank, and Frank and I sort of got together and swapped records.”

At the time, Zappa was already in a band called the Blackouts, but this soon disintegrated. Then the brothers moved to Ontario, California, and started a new band, the Omens, which also included Sherwood. He would regularly jam with Zappa in a string of different groups, and eventually, in 1964, the Mothers. The following year, the band signed a recording contract with MGM records, and set about the lengthy process of recording their first album, Freak Out!, with producer Tom Wilson. At the time, Sherwood was not a fully fledged member of the band, which changed its name to the Mothers of Invention. He described his role on Freak Out! as “just making sound effects on some of the songs”.

After the album’s release in June 1966 on MGM’s Verve label, the band went on tour, then in November that year took up a six-month residency at the Garrick theatre in New York, during which they played 14 shows a week. Sherwood was working for the band as equipment manager and roadie, and sometimes operated the lighting during the Garrick shows. These were a bizarre mix of music and performance art, featuring puppet shows and interludes when the band would pelt the audience with fruit.

It was when the Mothers made their first trip to England, in mid-1967, that Sherwood was finally hired as a full-time musician. It was the band’s vocalist and percussionist Ray Collins who gave Sherwood the nickname “Motorhead”, through his love of working on cars and trucks and motorcycles: “He said ‘it sounds like you’ve got a little motor in your head’, so they just called me Motorhead and that seemed to stick.”

Sherwood contributed on baritone and/or tenor saxophone, and sometimes percussion and vocals, to Absolutely Free, We’re Only in It for the Money, and the doo-wop album Cruising with Ruben & the Jets, taking in the Zappa solo album Lumpy Gravy en route. Zappa disbanded the original Mothers of Invention in 1969 for financial reasons and what he perceived as public apathy, but Sherwood appears on the albums Uncle Meat, Burnt Weeny Sandwich and Weasels Ripped My Flesh, recorded before the split but released subsequently.

Jim Sherwood obituary (The Guardian)
 

 
This compelling 1985 interview with Frank Zappa conducted by legendary Washington D.C. deejay Cerphe (Don Collwell) for Baltimore TV was never aired. Either it was too edgy for local TV or, as rumor has it, Zappa refused to sign the release required to broadcast the interview. Which begs the question: why would Zappa, who was always fearless in voicing his opinions, stand in the way of this particualr interview being shown?

Two weeks after the interview,  Zappa testified on Capitol Hill at the infamous Senate Porn Rock Hearings on record labeling. Cerphe joined Zappa at the hearing and strongly spoke against censorship.

In light of the controversy surrounding the hearings, the station scheduled to broadcast the interview may have felt Zappa was just too radical for their viewership. For whatever reason, it remained unseen until it was smuggled out of the studio by someone who realized its value as rock history.

As usual, Zappa takes no prisoners as he candidly critiques the state of modern rock and roll, censorship, conformity, sex, consumerism, MTV and more.

Raw and unedited.
 

 
Frank Zappa, the great American composer, guitarist, performer, band leader, record producer and film director was born today in 1940, and in this particular household, the birth of the baby Zappa is a much bigger holiday than the b’day of that other kid this week. As I type this, there is a diptych painting of Frank Zappa and the original Mothers of Invention hanging over my desk, looking down at me.

Frank Zappa would have been 71 today if he were still with us. Truly an artistic titan of the 20th century. 

Below, Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention doing a splendiferous work-out of “King Kong,” the titanic instrumental centerpiece of live Mothers’ shows of the late 1960s. (I probably own 200 versions of this song on bootlegs):
 

Previously on Dangerous Minds:

Frank Zappa reads from ‘Naked Lunch,’ 1978

Zappa/Mothers ‘Sleeping in a Jar’ animated film

Captain Beefheart t-shirt by Black And White T-shirts

This excellent documentary from 1997, narrated by John Peel and shown as part of a commemorative BBC Peel Night, has been online for a while but finally arrives in one 50 minute long piece thanks to uploader abrahamisagreatman. You may have seen this before, but it’s definitely worth another watch:

 
Lovely. From the website “Where men meets moustaches meets hair meets moustaches meets hair meets MOUSTAIR.

(via Nerdcore)

 
Instead of the traditional run of the mill carved pumpkin, why not create a Frank Zappa pumpkin this Halloween? The person who made this spifnicient masterpiece has a step-by-step guide: Pumpkins from Photos.

 
I found this Zappa pumpkin via Flickr user Susan Sharpless Smith. Photo and carving by Sarah.

 
Pumpkin found here.

 
Grace under pressure.

While I’m a big fan of The Mothers Of Invention, I am not as enamored with Frank Zappa’s post-Mothers career as some of my co-contributors here on Dangerous Minds. His sarcasm is both his strong point and his weakness. In the context of his music, I dug his snarly, cynical attitude on Freak Out! and We’re Only In It For The Money. But, his wiseass arrogance and disdain for people grew tiresome for me. This interview with Grace Slick is a perfect example of Zappa being a supercilious prick. He obviously agreed to the interview. So why be so difficult? It’s not funny or particularly hip. He has no problem promoting his upcoming album and Broadway project, but he gets all surly and evasive when he’s asked some questions that might have actually resulted in some interesting insights, the Varese stuff for instance.

Slick is wonderfully accommodating and almost Zen-like in the way she handles Zappa’s snide attitude. Sorry Frank, I’m not impressed. But, at least you set a fashion trend for white-framed sunglasses that hipsters today have adopted along with your holier-than-thou emptiness.

This was Grace Slick during her Jefferson Starship period and I could go on about that, but it will have to wait for later. Slick’s credibility was almost deep-sixed by the hideous “We Built This City On Rock And Roll.” But, at least, she never resorted to wearing goofy sunglasses. She opted for pasta optics.
 

 
The Mothers Of Invention’s “Trouble Every Day” provides the perfect soundtrack for a riot. Zappa’s lyrics couldn’t be more prescient.

Seen the smoke and fire
And the market burnin’ down
Watched while everybody
On his street would take a turn
To stomp and smash and bash and crash
And slash and bust and burn

And I’m watchin’ and I’m waitin’
Hopin’ for the best
Even think I’ll go to prayin’
Every time I hear ‘em sayin’
That there’s no way to delay
That trouble comin’ every day
No way to delay
That trouble comin’ every day

You know we got to sit around at home
And watch this thing begin
But I bet there won’t be many live
To see it really end
‘Cause the fire in the street
Ain’t like the fire in the heart
And in the eyes of all these people
Don’t you know that this could start
On any street in any town”

“Trouble Every Day” from the album Freak Out!
 

 
Three clips of John and Yoko onstage with Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention at the Fillmore East in NYC, June 5, 1971. For whatever reason, Lennon re-titled the Mothers’ song “King Kong”—the centerpiece of their live act for years and one that took up an entire side of the Uncle Meat album—as “Jamrag” and credited it to “Lennon/Ono” on their 1972 Sometime in New York City live album. Zappa’s own mix of this material—radically different from the Phil Spector produced tracks on John and Yoko’s album—came out on his Playground Psychotics album in 1992.

The Mothers at this time were comprised of Howard Kaylan and Mark Volman on vocals, Bob Harris—keyboards, Don Preston—Minimoog, Ian Underwood—keyboards, alto sax, Jim Pons—bass, vocals and Aynsley Dunbar on drums. If you’re a Yoko fan, towards the end of the third clip, Lennon starts doing some feedback stuff with his guitar as she wails over it. It’s a fine Yoko moment, albeit brief.

This is either a fan-shot film that was synced up with soundboard audio or else something that came via Bill Graham’s archives or a mixture of both. The audio quality is quite good and the video quality is certainly watchable, although there are dropouts to black at times. Still, this is an amazing, historic concert to have footage of, I’ll take what I can get. This probably got onto YouTube by way of the amazing Zappateers fansite (truly one of the greatest fan communities on the Internet).
 

 

 
Below “Scumbag.” I love Don Preston’s Mini-Moog improvisations here:
 

 
As someone who has seen a hell of a lot of documentaries on Frank Zappa, I’d have to say that this 1971 Dutch TV doc is probably the very best. Featuring Frank composing, puttering around the house with Gail and babies Moon and Dweezil, plus interviews with various members of the GTOs. We also see Frank and Gail go out for burritos in Los Angeles, Miss Lucy tells an anecdote about pissing on Jeff Beck’s chest and Zappa airs his views on “the revolution” (“It’s a matter of infiltration.”) and why he doesn’t want to be the President, but has thought about it. There is a less savory section where Zappa discusses giving VD to his wife in a very matter of fact way….

With some shit-hot concert footage from the Flo & Eddie incarnation of the Mothers, shot at the Fillmore West, Nov 6 1970. This VPRO documentary was directed by Roelof Kiers.
 

 
In this episode of Miami Vice called “Payback” which aired on March 14, 1986, Frank Zappa plays Mario Fuente, the head of a drug ring dealing “weasel dust.”

I spent 13 years snorting weasel dust and the best part of the experience was the anticipation prior to snorting the first line. It was straight downhill after that.
 

 
Via Exile On Moan Street

 
As habitual readers of Dangerous Minds know, when I do “product reviews” I try to stay away from debating the merits of the music of “classic rock” acts because, frankly who cares what I think about Neil Young or The Beatles? As for me, I really don’t care what you or anyone else has to say about their music, either. If you don’t like Young or the Fab Four, too bad, buddy, I just can’t help you. They’re awesome, and it’s been long ago settled. Done.

But what I do care about is: Does it sound/look good? Is this newest version a significant upgrade from the last “definitive collector’s edition” they put out? And most importantly, “Is it really worth shelling out the money for this sucker if I’ve already bought this goddamned album in several obsolete audio formats, including 8-track tapes?”

Admittedly, oft-times the answer is “No.” (I don’t think the newly released Tommy Blu-ray sounds all that great, for instance. The surround mix of David Bowie’s Station to Station album is just terrible). Other times the answer is a resounding “Yes!” as in the case of the newly restored Criterion Collection Blu-ray of The Monkees’ psychedelic opus, Head.
 

 
Head was written and produced by Bob Rafelson (co-creator of The Monkees) and Jack Nicholson, and directed by Rafelson. The film aimed to deconstruct the “manufactured” image that the Monkees wished to leave behind far behind them in 1968. The group wander through a number of surrealistic scenes, Hollywood sound stages and trippy pop art musical production numbers. Along the way, they encounter the likes of Nicholson, Dennis Hopper, Annette Funicello, Terri Garr, stripper Carol Doda, Frank Zappa, Toni Basil, fighter Sonny Liston, and weirdo character actor Timothy Carey. Victor Mature, an over the hill actor known for appearing in Biblical epics and sword and sandals films, played a King Kong-sized version of himself (I’m not old enough to have much context for Victor Mature, but the way I take it is that he’s playing himself in a “human punch-line” kind of way, something that will no doubt be lost on future audiences for whom he’ll just appear to be a weird old giant who appears appropos of nothing).

Head was initially released with a mysterious advertising campaign that never mentioned the Monkees and instead featured the head of a balding man (John Brockman, future literary super agent). The Monkees’ teenbopper fan base must have been mighty confused. These were still the Monkees they loved, but what was with all the lysergic Marshall McLuhan stuff, the Viet Nam footage and the hookahs? Head is an audio-visual mindfuck. Head was a total flop.
 

 
Head’s reputation grew during a couple of national CBS late night TV airings in the 1970s. A VHS was released in the mid-80s during the revival of interest in the group brought on by MTV screening The Monkees for a new generation. Today Head is properly considered a odd milestone in Hollywood history—it’s one of the highest budgeted rock films of the era and one of the first counter culture films to be produced by the studio system. What a stylish time capsule of the era it is!  In his liner notes, Chuck Stephens called Head, “the Ulysses of a hip New Hollywood about to be born.” What he said!

I’d have to say that of all of the various music related Blu-rays discs that have passed through my BD player since I got it last year, Head is the very best of all. It’s THE thing I’d reach for to geekily demonstrate my sound system for a guest. Seldom are things done this right, but when you consider that it’s Criterion behind this issue of Head, of course it makes more sense. I have no doubt that seeing this new Criterion version on a large HD screen with a good surround system is a superior experience even to seeing it in a movie theatre when it was first released. How could it have been better then? 42-years after Head’s initial release, we have the technology!

So, is it a significant upgrade from the Rhino DVD of Head, still on the market? Hell, yes. There’s simply no comparison, either in the video quality—Rhino’s DVD sucks on that count, they used a scratchy fullscreen print, whereas Criterion’s disc is letterboxed and immaculate, transferred from a 35mm negative—or in the audio department, either, as Head has been gloriously remixed in 5.1 surround. Holy shit did they do an amazing job with the audio.
 

 
Head’s opening moment, where Micky Dolenz runs through the dedication ceremony and jumps off the bridge, has, of course, as its soundtrack, one of the greatest numbers the Monkees ever did, “Porpoise Song.” The pristine quality of that scene’s solarized underwater footage combined with the HD DTS surround mix is nothing short of astonishing. Visually, it’s like looking at a stained-glass window. The audio is deeply immersive—like you’re standing in the midst of a strange waterlogged orchestra—and the video so vibrant that I must’ve played that one scene ten times in a row before moving on to “Circle Sky.” Again I wasn’t disappointed, the group’s presence is immediate and electrifying—Head’s performance of “Circle Sky” is the first time a “live” rock performance was used in a Hollywood film. I’ll say it again, they usually never get it this right. As far as slick audio/visual products go, Criterion’s Head deserves a special award.

At the moment, Head is only available as part of the Criterion Collection box set America Lost and Found: The BBS Story. Although the rest of the films in the set—Easy Rider, Five Easy Pieces, The Last Picture Show, The King of Marvin Gardens, Drive, He Said and the first ever release of Henry Jaglom’s A Safe Place (with Nicholson, Tuesday Weld, Orson Welles and Dangerous Minds pal Phil Proctor of the Firesign Theatre)—are all worthy, frankly I’d sooner have just had Head. Although it’s not on their current release schedule, I’m sure Criterion will release Head solo on Blu-ray soon enough. Surely the word of mouth, in the meantime, will continue to spread.
 

 
[A personal anecdote here: In 1994, I met Micky Dolenz and his (super cute) daughter Ami, at the Whisky Bar in New York. He was really cool and a gas to talk to, but after about 20 minutes I sheepishly revealed to him that although I could not have possibly had any forewarning that I was going to meet him, earlier that day I’d actually bought a CD of the Head soundtrack that I had in my coat pocket. The conversation got slightly awkward for a minute until I changed the subject and he politely allowed me to do so. I got the feeling that he had about as much desire to talk about something he’d done 30 years ago as most people would.]

Below, one of the best musical numbers in Head, Mike Nesmith’s powerful “Circle Sky.” Who says The Monkees weren’t a good live band? Also. keep in mind as you watch this, that as cool as this clip is, it’s still a pale comparison to the crisp, vibrant new Criterion Blu-ray release with six channels of audio coming at you:
 

 
Below, an excellent theatrical trailer for Head: