Frank
Zappa
Hot Rats
(Zappa Records)
Though
some of you might not agree (which for me is not a problem at all: as the
old saying goes, "everybody is entitled to my own opinion"),
for this writer there are no doubts about the identity of the most important
musical event of the year: of course, it’s the mammoth re-release program
of the whole (well, almost, but not quite) Frank Zappa catalogue, something
which follows the agreement between the Zappa Family and big major Universal
(there’s also a
"digital" chapter, the catalogue being available on iTunes).
It’s
fifty-six titles we’re talking about, with twenty-one of them (twenty-two,
really) getting a new re-master from the original analogue tapes. The albums
will be released in groups (of approx twelve titles per group), at very
close intervals – the first dozen titles having already appeared in July,
with the next batch to be released in just a few days, at the end of August,
and so on and so forth, till November.
And
so, while most publicists and magazines were sleeping, tired from the summer
heat, discussions and threads were flourishing all over the Web, about
those titles already on sale and those about to be released, with various
comments and hypotheses anticipating what one could listen to in a short
while.
Adopting
an unbiased approach, all the fuss has very sound reasons in its favour:
due to a lengthy dispute concerning legal rights, the relationship between
the Zappa Family and Rykodisc (the label that had previously detained the
legal rights to the Zappa catalogue on CD) and all things pertaining to
lawyers and courts (all stuff I know absolutely nothing about), the majority
of Zappa-related items had disappeared from the market.
Of
course, the actual "commercial potential" of said catalogue being
re-released is yet to be assessed, Zappa’s name being nowadays for most
(music- and non-music-related) media something that has long been lost
in the mists of a Jurassic-flavoured past. What’s more, modern consumption
frameworks make it high unlikely for the majority of consumers to react
to stimuli other than Hype and Myth, so leaving people like Zappa (and
all those who are similar to him, of course) in the uncomfortable position
of somebody who has "only"
music to offer, music being exactly the main reason we are talking about
him now, but maybe not enough anymore (and yeah, I know it sounds so sad,
but ain’t that the truth?).
Why
did I decide to review Hot Rats?, I hear you say. Well, this is really
very simple and straightforward: This is the first time the original mix
of this album gets to be released on CD. In other words, it’s high unlikely
that most readers have listened to this album before. So, in a way, we’re
talking about
"an unknown masterpiece".
I
still remember my puzzlement upon listening to the first version of this
album on CD, a quite horrible re-mix (we only had Zappa himself to blame
for this, for a host of reasons that I can’t really discuss here, for reasons
of space), my disconcertment only made more acute by the circumstance of
my having chosen Hot Rats – an album I knew from memory – as my "practical
guide" to buy my first CD player.
(Truth
to be told, it appears that the original mix featured here previously appeared
about three years ago in a 200gr. vinyl limited version on Classic Records.
But having only seen, not listened to, a single sealed copy of said album,
I cannot obviously comment on any differences and similarities.)
Those
who, wanting to know more about Hot Rats, happen to leaf through old magazines
are in for a few surprises. In fact, in times past, some called this album
"Zappa’s first commercial faux pas", while others called it "his
best album ever" – and the were also those who called it "his only
good album". Of course, times being different now, modern assessment
is a lot less temperamental. It’s a complex matter, but something can be
said.
A
genius musician who possessed a complex and colourful personality, starting
from album number one (Freak Out!) by the group with that strange name
(The Mothers Of Invention) of which he was the main raison d’être, Frank
Zappa found himself impersonating the role of Champion of the Counterculture.
What’s more, sitting among those musical and technical innovations of his
work – which were not exclusive to him, sure, but which in my opinion he
explored to a degree and depth that had no real peers – was an anti-establishment
spirit that even in the context of those times had really no peers. Also,
a great progression can be detected in those studio albums – from Freak
Out, 1966, to Uncle Meat, 1969 – which sported a growing assurance in his
use of technical means, and an experimental attitude when it came to the
group’s stage work, which made their concerts on both sides of the ocean
deservedly legendary.
What
kind of album is Hot Rats? First and foremost, it’s an instrumental album
(well, not quite, but the brief – and memorable – vocal performance by
Captain Beefheart on Willie The Pimp doesn’t change the fact that this
is an instrumental album). Here I have to remind readers that it had been
the vocals – their timbre, meaning, and function – that for many listeners
had been the main stumbling block towards a full appreciation of the music
of the group. While for many it had been "the message" and "the
social dimension" of the music that had concealed the true quality
of Zappa’s musical output. Then, of course, there are those who argue that
Zappa’s post-Uncle Meat output is "a lot simpler, less profound and
innovative" than what came before (but let’s not forget that albums
such as Weasels Ripped My Flesh and Burnt Weeny Sandwich, though released
after Hot Rats, feature material recorded before that album’s release date),
but this is a different kettle of fish.
Having
placed my (infallible) "objectivity hat" on my head I’ll define
Hot Rats – compared to what came before – as "a step sideways",
surely not that "step backwards" some say it is (and let’s not
forget that – pace Lumpy Gravy – the whole orchestral chapter was still
to come, 200 Motels just behind the corner). But it’s a step sideways that’s
full of innovations, as we’ll see in just a moment.
Hot
Rats is the first album where one can talk about "Frank Zappa, guitar
player". Which doesn’t mean, of course, that those previous albums
lacked good guitar performances (the contrary, in fact, being true). But
– and here it’s possible to draw a parallel with another "discreet" guitar
player, Robert Fripp, who became known to "the general audience" as
"a real guitar player" only by the time of Larks’ Tongues In Aspic,
the fifth studio album by King Crimson – it’s thanks to Hot Rats that Zappa
started getting mentioned outside the circle of his most attentive fans.
It’s not yet the molten lava one sees coming out of one’s speakers when listening
to an album that followed in a short while, Chunga’s Revenge (an album, by
the way, which features Twenty Small Cigars, a beautiful track off the Hot
Rats sessions), which sports solos such as the ones featured on Transylvania
Boogie and Chunga’s Revenge. But it’s a technically solid, compositionally
inventive, Zappa one listens to sitting on guitar on Hot Rats.
Hot
Rats was recorded on sixteen tracks (Uncle Meat’s dense orchestrations
were recorded on twelve tracks), hence a timbral clarity and a placement
of sounds in the stereo field that are very lively and expressive – and
with almost no peers at the time. One can’t help but notice those rich,
clear orchestrations; and the amazing imaging of the drums and percussion.
Lotsa
"mysterious" sounds, too, thanks to the masterful use of tape speed,
and a skillful studio work that tells us this is a "rock" album.
Quite
unusual for a "rock" album of that era, there are three different
drummers.
The
only member of the old Mothers Of Invention featured here, Ian Underwood
is really in a class by himself. It’s not an exaggeration to say that –
while those intricate arrangements fully show the Zappa signature – this
album would have sounded very differently without Underwood, whose performances
on a great variety of instruments are always stylistically appropriate.
Opening
track Peaches En Regalia is probably the only instrumental composition
written by Frank Zappa that a lot of people have listened to, at least
once. A smooth intro, a fine theme, a breezy Zappa solo, and appropriate
performances by Ron Selico on drums and Shuggy Otis on bass, highlighting
the "Latin"
mood of the piece. Very fine percussion, also speeded-up, played by Zappa,
once more demonstrating his love for those instruments.
Featuring
Captain Beefheart on vocals, and Don "Sugar Cane" Harris on violin
(just at the start and the end of the piece, though those high notes one
can hear here and there – check at about 6′ – make one think of a solo,
or part, that went unreleased), Willie the Pimp is a mature meditation
on the Blues by Frank Zappa the guitar player, here ably backed by Max
Bennett on bass and John Guerin on drums. The whole is quite far, though,
from those "Blues Jams" so common at the time – check the different "episodes",
with those quite different guitar timbres, which dispel that sense of monotony
potentially implied by the track’s generous length.
A
longer, rearranged version of a Zappa composition already performed on
a studio album by The Mothers, Son Of Mr. Green Genes makes good use of
Paul Humphrey’s considerable drumming expertise – he’s fantastic in his
punctuating the different sections and moods of this composition; as it’s
to be expected, Underwood is appropriately versatile on various reeds and
keyboards. Again, Zappa the guitar player is at his best in a series of
vignettes where the guitar is placed inside a vivacious instrumental framework.
Let’s
play Side Two, OK? Max Bennett on double bass, together with John Guerin
on drums and Ian Underwood on piano starts Little Umbrellas. A lyrical
theme that sticks in one’s mind, a quite intricate development, double
bass, theme, close
The
Gumbo Variations literally jumps at you out of your speakers in all its
funky glory. Ian Underwood on tenor sax (sounding halfway between King
Curtis and Sonny Rollins?), it sports a fine theme and a frenetic sax solo
perfectly backed by Paul Humphrey on drums and Max Bennett on bass. Then
there’s a lengthy, intense violin solo by Sugar Cane Harris, Humphrey’s
drums here giving a perfect push. There’s a brief guitar solo by Zappa,
with an appropriate-sounding backing by Underwood on Hammond + Leslie,
a fine transition by bass and drums, and out.
The
complex piece titled It Must Be A Camel gets an intro by electric bass,
piano, drums, and percussion. The careful orchestration places Underwood’s
winds sometimes coupled with Jean-Luc Ponty violin (the starting point
of a fruitful collaboration that in a short while will see the release
of the album King Kong, under Ponty’s name). A beautiful theme, successfully
orchestrated, it offers a fine performance by John Guerin, a subtle Zappa
on guitar, percussion, a brief drum solo by Guerin, it’s a perfect close
for a perfect album.
This
new CD release sports an excellent sound, the original 1969 analogue master
"Transferred & Re-Mastered by Bernie Grundman". The CD has
plenty of volume, but one can turn the volume knob quite a bit to the right
without experiencing listening fatigue. Maybe – but it’s a matter of taste,
almost – the electric bass is a bit "too much", but the sound is
clearly defined. The fact of one being able to clearly listen to the whole
drum set for the first time was quite surprising – also a tad strange – a
lot more skin and wood than on the original album (which makes quite easier
for one to appreciate John Guerin’s precision on It Must Be A Camel and Paul
Humphrey’s funky fire on The Gumbo Variations). It was precisely the new "fatness" in
the rhythm section that for a moment made me fear a "Hendrix-like"
weirdness – here I’m talking about some CD editions of Jimi Hendrix albums
which have Mitch Mitchell’s drums so big and loud that Hendrix’s guitar sounds
tiny and feeble – but repeated listening sessions calmed my fears.
Readers
have obviously to consider the fact that I’ve listened to the original
vinyl of this album for forty-one years (not the same copy, of course!
the one I listened to for this comparison being my faithful Reprise UK
pressing from… 1973, I think), and to the new CD for two weeks. But writing
the review after listening to the CD for forty-one years didn’t look very
wise to me…
This
is the end of my review, so I’m gonna take off my (infallible) objectivity
hat. Listening to such a fantastic album and thinking about all the rubbish
I get in my mailbox almost hurts. Different times, different quality standards,
different goals, different people. I really didn’t know what to say at
the end of this review, so I decided to borrow what Frank Zappa called "my
humble curse": "May your shit come to life, and kiss you".
Beppe
Colli
© Beppe Colli 2012
CloudsandClocks.net
| Aug. 19, 2012