The Importance of Being Frank

I had the extreme good fortune of seeing Frank Zappa perform a half-dozen or so times...the show I recall the best was Salt Lake City, circa 1985. FZ was originally booked to play at The Salt Palace, a god-awful sports arena with acoustics that were so bad it pretty much didn't matter what band was playing- all one heard was the sound of permanent hearing loss.

Luckily (for the fans) , Zappa didn't sell enough tickets for the Palace, so they moved the show next door to a small auditorium designed for symphonies- the sound was impeccable, the view from our third row seats was unbeatable and the skill of Zappa's band was on a level I have yet to see surpassed by anyone of any genre - and I have seen a lot of bands since 1985.

Frank would often light a cigarette and watch as one of his bandmates- such as Steve Vai- played a solo...after few minutes, he'd stick the cigarette in the strings of his own guitar's headstock, which was the signal that he was about to play his solo, which he would do until the cigarette was almost burning the guitar...oh, man...nobody had guitar attitude like Frank Zappa. Frank was better than almost anyone alive and he knew it. He didn't have to boast or talk it up, he just played and when he did there wasn't much you could do but stand in mute awe and try to absorb as much as possible, hoping to retain some fleeting bit of the creative mojo that came so easily to Zappa but so rarely touches most of us.

Years later, I was descending the stairs of a stage here in Fallentown after one of my own concerts and an excited young man approached me.

"You must listen to a lot of Zappa", he said, " you play a lot like Frank."

That was the highest compliment I have ever received, although I'm nowhere near the caliber of FZ. Few are.

If you really want to play like Zappa, it helps if you are Zappa. Dweezil Zappa, that is. I was interested in this show, but the $32 price tag was way out of reach...so I asked for free tickets on the virtue of my overall coolness- and got them!
So last Thursday night, a friend and I want to see Frank's son Dweezil play a concert of his father's material. When we arrived, all I could see was a jumbo screen playing concert footage of FZ himself...was this the warm-up, we wondered? On tip-toe, I could see the band...they were playing along to old footage while a roadie was trying to isolate the malfunction on Dweez's amplifier...a bad cable, I think...once all the tech difficulties were straightened out, his band- featuring FZ stalwart Ray White and a cast of great young players ( the sound was so bad I couldn't catch their names during the introductions)- launched into a 'best of' medley that lasted three hours, finishing with 'Muffin Man' and 'Illinois Enema Bandit'.
Awesome.


Zappa really did love his fans and he passed that on to Dweezil. After the show, he stayed on stage, shaking hands and giving autographs to dozens of fans, myself included.

"Your father would be proud", I said. It was loud and I don't know if he heard me, but I know it's true- what father wouldn't be proud to see their son carry on the family tradition- especially when it's a musical legacy as rare and powerful as Zappa's?

I spent most of the next day playing the riff from 'Muffin Man' over and over again on my guitar. It was pointless but quite gratifying.

Until my mixer exploded, that is. Every light that could go RED did go RED and a horrible buzzing sound blew out the speakers on my cheap stereo. I checked my receipt...the warranty expired 30 days ago. Fuck.
Might as well take a drive, get some food, calm down.

My engine died. After months of auto-drama and thousands of wasted dollars, I blew a cylinder and now my Volvo is little more than a giant Swedish paperweight.
Now I can't use it to not drive myself to the job I didn't get on Friday.

Except for the great show Thursday, my life has become pretty goddamn unbearable. For the first time in months, I have found myself thinking about drinking again, and how easy it would be to lose all my problems by crawling into the bottle and never coming out again...but, no.
Not gonna happen- I have too many things to do. The thought of drinking scares the shit out of me, which is exactly what it should do. As long as I have fear, I will be sober. I have lots of fear.

I have fun too:

I have a radio show today at 3PM, Songs from the Big Hair, which is our weekly 1980's program. I found a concert CD that has Dweezil's first ever live performance on it-, it's from 1984- Dweezil is 15 years old and he trades licks with his father on 'Sharleena' ...how cool is that?
I've got more Zappa lined up- I'll be carrying my tribute over to tomorrow morning's show...I might have to walk 20 blocks through cold rain to play my old Zappa records, but, by gum, that is what I'm gonna do.

There are a lot of things I can't seem to do- pay rent, eat, find a girlfriend, etc.- but there is one thing I can always do, and that thing is playing music.

After my show is over tomorrow, I'm gonna go home and play 'Muffin Man' until my fingers hurt.
Why?
Because I can.