Last record Zappa cut from a wheelchair, after being thrown off a stage in London by a jealous boyfriend whose girl Zappa had no idea existed. The fall--ten feet into a concrete orchestra pit--did serious damage to his whole body and left him convalescent for the better part of a year. (If only the boyfriend had heard Zappa singing, “I ain’t got no heart to give away.”) Also, arguably, the last record in Zappa’s period of orchestral arrangement, which began with Uncle Meat in ’69. I’ve never liked this orchestral period much, but it undeniably showcases Zappa’s talent as arranger (new sounds for different-sized ensembles) and bandleader (unfamiliar faces for every new album).
The Grand Wazoo tells the story of Cletus Awreetus-Awrightus, the funky musical leader of a classical empire at civil war with “a grotesque cult of masochistic ascetic fanatics who don’t like music” (credit: Zappa’s liner notes). The two armies’ battles consist of each side blowing sounds at the other: the insurrectionists a kind of easy-listening pop, and Cleetus’s army a fast-paced funk that inevitably overpowers the other side. Cleetus wants to convert these people, not exterminate them, like Starchild just wanting to Sir Nose dance.
But, perhaps reflective of Zappa’s own limited mobility at the time, this music has about zero funk to it. I’ve said I don’t like this orchestral phase of his career: for me, the problem with Zappa arranging for big band is that he’s got all these brilliant musicians and they’re just playing note-for-note the parts he’s written for them, too precisely to even call the results jazz. His is the only creative mind at work. And I get sick of being in his mind, especially in the case of The Grand Wazoo, which is supposed to be funky. Like who’s gonna hear that quarter-note and unswung-eighths melody in “Cletus Awreetus-Awrightus” and wanna get it on the good foot?
To all this unfunkiness there is ONE exception: the tireless virtuoso Aynsley Dunbar, who missed being Hendrix’s drummer by a coin toss. (Think of that.) Here he outdoes himself. Right from track one (on the CD reissue, the title track) I was thinking they had two drummers. Almost every song is like that, but here in particular is a great example: my favorite moment in “Eat That Question” comes when the melody comes back rephrased toward the end (5:43) over a kind of military beat full of percussion. Very cool and surprising.
Some notes on tracks:
- “For Calvin (and His Next Two Hitchhikers)”: The theme of extraterrestrial intelligence visiting Earth is one FZ would return to in one of the Mothers’ absolute best songs later on, “Inca Roads.” The topic is pretty far removed from his concrete social satire of the 1960s--and 80s.
- “Cletus Awreetus-Awrightus” is so woefully unfunky that it’s irredeemable even by Dunbar. The only thing noteworthy about it, other than its shortness, is the fact that it features the same guitar tone Frank would use some on next year’s Over-Nite Sensation, which album is better than Grand Wazoo in just about every way.
- "Eat That Question" features technically and theoretically impressive keyboard work from the late George Duke, whose R&B/gospel tendencies made him unique among Zappa keyboardists. He would go on to play with FZ for a long time. But in “Eat That Question,” those influences are pretty much missing, and I think Duke is just doing what’s impressive.
- In "Blessed Relief,” George Duke’s solo is sort of undeveloped, and so is Zappa’s: just occasional rushing of the fingers over a narrow range. The horn solo stands out because it takes its time--but even it doesn't capture the melodic beauty of the head, which is composed. One ever-present difference between Zappa's compositions and solos is that the former contrast bizarre rhythms with space and beauty, whereas the latter are mostly bizarre rhythms, which tends to be less interesting. Duke does do a couple of nice things, though, the nicest of which is to develop a rapport with Dunbar during his solo: they egg each other on, fuel each other. Frank doesn’t really bother with that. “Blessed Relief” on the whole is a good form for improv--my little high school jazz combo did it and I’ll be damned if I don’t prefer our version--but, at least here, it doesn’t approach blessedness or relief, for me.
So my favorite track is “For Calvin (and His Next Two Hitchhikers),” an unpopular opinion, but at least this song doesn’t feel like it ought to be funky, and if you listen to its chords and textures it’s actually really well-arranged. With its sound and un-wazoo-related concept, it would probably be more at home on Waka/Jawaka coming right after "It Just Might Be a One-Shot Deal."
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Originally Posted by Zappathustra
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