Frank Zappa sits in plush-carpeted room 508 of the Lenox Hotel, facing the wall, chatting on the telephone. He is surrounded by packed suitcases, cassette tapes, several half-finished packages of imported candy, and an espresso machine.
"Thank God somebody put together a box that sounds like a string section," he tells the receiver. "All these union musicians care about are their union dues and their pensions."
Frank Zappa, though, still cares about music, and he conveys a much more serious attitude about the music that he plays than the rock-music press has given him credit for during his ten-year career.
Serious-mindedness is not what you'd expect from the man who did it all long before Alice Cooper killed his first chicken, but it's what you get from him these days.
Zappa is coming off a night of concerts at the Music Hall with his new band--no longer the Mothers of Invention, but "just Zappa--like Montrose"--and he's spending all day and all night submitting to "as many interviews as I can stand."
That was Downbeat on the phone. The guy didn't have any specific questions, and Zappa grew a little short-tempered; disposed of him real quick.
"We are fantastic," he declares. "Anybody who doesn't like what we do can just eat it."
Ah, a bit of the classic Zappa oozing to the surface...
Zappa the elder statesman of gross-out rock describes Zappa the group as very young and very cute: "Fifty per cent of the music we play is real cute."
What of the other 50? "We have a Negro guitar player named Ray White with a red jumpsuit, and his dashing accomplice Bianca--they add an element of funk--and then there's me, for that Mediterranean raunch effect," he says.
Despite Zappa's undeniably brilliant musical abilities--now, he's even into producing, having helped churn out the latest Grand Funk Railroad offering--he's still haunted by a past he largely denies.
A popular story among Zappaphiles involves Frank defecating off a stage into a bucket. "It never happened," he says.
"Never happened--obviously the product of a drug-crazed hippy's mind; these people also believe that Dwight David Eisenhower was president once."
But Zappa's eyes light up--somewhat--when he recalls the Giraffe Story. It was July 4, 1967, at the old Garrick Theater. Zappa was onstage with the old Mothers, and a big stuffed giraffe. He played his guitar, and as he played, he stroked the giraffe. After he had stroked the giraffe for a long time, it unleashed a spray of "industrial-strength whipped cream" all over the stage. Then, by means of concealed explosive, "we blew the things's butt off." Zappa says he thinks "this was just as good as any Fourth of July fireworks." He smiles briefly.
In case you were interested, Zappa's current favorite groups are Gentle Giant, Queen, ZZ Topand Lynyrd Skynyrd; he's never heard of Patti Smith; he thinks reggae music "ranks right up there with Bruce Springsteen interms of media hype"; and he says he likes to play in hockey rinks more than anywhere else ("They have a good sound").
In case you're still interested, Zappa thinks Jerry Ford "is the sort of person who, if given the opportunity, will insert his foot in his mouth, and continue chewing until he gets to his kneecap." In the interest of equal time, he thinks Jimmy Carter "has a good dentist." Frank says he won't be voting next week.
Still there? Frank Zappa will continue his current tour, timed to coincide with the release of his new album "Zoot Allures," through December; in March he will begin a 'round-the-world tour. Then he will return to his new hometown, Hollywood, sit around his non-mansion, and work on a new movie. But he won't talk about his new movie now.
You see, his mushroom soup is getting cold over there at the Budapest Restaurant where his bodyguard and manager are waiting for him. "It's probably got a crust of scum and dead baby skin on it"--an aside.
So Zappa gets up from his rocking chair--his belly button is exposed (an innie, I think), and he's not wearing any underwear under those tight bell-bottoms (woo, woo)--he puts on a stylish coat, turns off the lights in his room (except one to keep the crooks out), and leaves.
Mushroom soup indeed. Wonder what he's going to do to it...
Hey, here's something you probably didn't know: Ever hear of Lou Reed? Well, he's the same Lou Reed--then "Louis Reed" who blew the lid off the went on to play Wally in "Leave it to Beaver." His father runs a Blimpie on the corner of 43rd and Madison in NYC. Oh, yeah--you know that right arm? Totally phony, Blown off in the war. Blown off in the war.
Lou will be at the Orpheum tomorrow night at 8; catch him in Filene's basement tomorrow morning at 10, though--he'll be signing women's underwear.
Also on tap for this weekend: Ronnie Laws, Pressure and Band X will be doing a benefit for Ronnie Laws, Pressure and Band X, 8 p.m. Friday at the Berklee Performance Center. Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers, former denizens of the Cambridge Common turned underground rock stars, will be holding forth--you guessed it, Friday at 8 p.m.--at the Cohen Auditorium of Tufts University, in a benefit for the Clamshell alliance, a group committed to halting the construction of nuclear power plants. Doing anything Friday at 8, honey?
Upcoming 'certs: Jimmy Cliff will have the Charles River to cross when he hits the Orpheum on the 19th of November. The Doobie Brothers and the Alpha Band'll be at the Music Hall November 5--where will you be? Taj and Ry (Mssrs. Mahal and Cooder) will double-boogey into town for a date at the Orpheum on November 14, and Robin Trower will hit the Music Hall on the 18th; that's the night before Jimmy Cliff will be at the Orpheum, in case you forgot. Now Aerosmith, with special guest Rich Derringer, will be featured at the Boston Garden on the 15th and 16th of November, so order yours today!! Your what?
Any questions? Call me. Later, Rich
