Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band—Trout Mask Replica

Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band—Trout Mask Replica

Trout Mask Replica—If there is an album that can truly be called idiosyncratic, it's Trout Mask Replica. Nothing could have prepared anyone for it in 1969, and its existence continues to baffle listeners in 2015. Its reputation precedes it, of course; it has been constantly cited as a turning point in rock and, for that matter, popular music. Its purported influence can be hard to hear outside of Tom Waits (namely Swordfishtrombones), but its role as a game-changer is hard to deny, especially considering the volume of acclaim and supporters in both music and general pop culture.

Its famous weirdness was not entirely unprecedented. Captain Beefheart (Don Van Vliet) and the Magic Band were already one of the more curious psychedelic blues groups of the '60s, and compositions like "Safe as Milk" and "Beatle Bones 'n' Smokin' Stones" from Strictly Personal (1968) were as lyrically strange as anything yet to come. What didn't exactly mesh with the standard on Trout Mask were the wild new arrangements—namely Beefheart's newfound fascination with a wide array of brass instruments—and just the peculiarities of the melodies and rhythms. This experimentation was made possible by Beefheart's collusion with childhood friend Frank Zappa, who had recently founded the record labels Bizarre and Straight. Zappa, an avant-garde artist in his own right, both allowed the band room to create music free from expectations and produced the record himself.

The details of the album's preparation, creation, and credits as well as the circumstances surrounding its recording are subject to some confusion. The original double LP's liner notes state that all 28 songs were written by Captain Beefheart, though in a 2005 interview with the blog vanity project, Magic Band drummer Drumbo (John French) disputed this and other points:

"Don was the initial creative force in the band, there’s no denying that. Lyrically, he is unsurpassed ... However, he was not very organized, nor did he at all understand the extreme learning curve it took to actually bring his vision to life. As a result, the band members—some more than others—contributed a great deal more to the actual completion and arranging of the music than Don ever realized."

Drumbo referred to Beefheart and the Magic Band's living situation as a "cult atmosphere ... manufactured by Van Vliet ... as one of the methods he used to control us." This is corroborated by Zappa, who recalled in The Real Frank Zappa Book, "The whole band was living in a small house in the San Fernando Valley (we could use the word cult in here)," where Drumbo reported the conditions were such that Zoot Horn Rollo (Bill Harkleroad) "while writing his book ... once had to run outside and collapse on his lawn—vomiting—from reliving the trauma." He elucidated:

"I'm sure he viewed our comradeship as a threat to his leadership, and so [he] felt he had to keep us compartmentalized by nurturing hostility. He did this by betraying confidence, mostly. Something said privately about a third party would be injected into a group 'talk,' which would usually be quite embarrassing and sometimes humiliating. These talks would go on for days until the targeted person 'in the barrel' finally broke down, usually either in tears or just in complete submission to Don. It was very much like brainwashing combined with a very bad form of group therapy."

Beefheart admitted at least once in his lifetime to being a "dictator," saying in an interview for the December 10th, 1977 edition of Sounds, "I can't think of myself as doing something wrong, because I asked them every day, 'Are you sure you want to do this?'" which paints the Trout Mask Replica recording as something of a sadomasochist venture. Rollo claimed in a 1997 interview for Hi-Fi Mundo, "80% of it was done by him kinda beating the shit out of a piano in a rhythmic sense ... John French, the drummer, transcribed it, notated it all, and would dole out the parts to the players. So he had a concept of being away from tonality, but using rhythm as the main input, because that's what he had to offer ... he didn't know what he played after he played it." He referred to Beefheart as "a non-musician" who "[had] no idea what any of those black and white things were on the piano." Assuming this is true, Trout Mask Replica actually falls under an uncommon heading, genre-wise: aleatoric music. The album has been often cited as an example of jazz music, but this is not entirely apt; jazz is largely based around improvisation, and while Beefheart's original sketches were improvised, they only were as such insofar that the geneses of all songs are inherently improvisational. Beefheart and the Magic Band famously rehearsed most of the album's finished songs "to death," as Zappa explained (International Times, March 1977), recalling that "they did all the tracks in 5 hours, and that's doing some of them several times. I couldn't tell the difference between the takes."

While Rollo's assessment is likely colored by his unpleasant memories, Trout Mask Replica does have an air of musical primordia. It has been argued over the many years since its release whether the music is carefully planned and forward-thinking or simply rehearsed nonsense. The real answer is almost certainly somewhere in the middle: there is no doubt that Beefheart's lyrical prowess was, as Drumbo put it, unsurpassed. His improvisational ability and imagination were keen and pure in that regard, as evidenced by next-level bouts of inspiration like the opening fragment of Trout Mask, "Frownland": "My smile is stuck/I cannot go back t'yer Frownland ... I cannot go back to yer land of gloom/Where black jagged shadows/Remind me of the comin' of yer doom."

The unaccompanied "The Dust Blows Forward 'n the Dust Blows Back" is excellent, evoking a sort of nostalgia. "Dachau Blues" is a curious story about World Wars I and especially II (Dachau having been a concentration camp) that borders on insensitive, though this feeling cannot be inferred with specificity. "Ella Guru" is one of the more traditional-sounding songs, but it is quickly run over by the flagellating horns of "Hair Pie: Bake 1," which is wordless aside from a conversation between Beefheart and some neighbors at the end. "Moonlight on Vermont," the closer of the side one and an overall highlight, quotes "Old-Time Religion" and Steve Reich's "Come Out."

"Pachuco Cadaver" is a mad blues that breaks down into a long bout of stream-of-consciousness. It naturally flows into the similar "Bills Corpse" and the somewhat-pretty-by-comparison "Sweet Sweet Bulbs." "Neon Meate Dream of a Octafish" [sic] sounds fittingly as though the vocals were recorded underwater. "China Pig" is great, and notably also seems to support Zoot Horn Rollo's claim that Beefheart was something of a novice; in the beginning of the song he asks Doug Moon to play "one of those [imitates slow blues number]" with no additional instruction. "My Human Gets Me Blues" seems to be a Beefheart statement on transgenderism. "Dali's Car" closes out the first LP with a bout of diminished chords and minor improvisation.

After the instrumental "Hair Pie: Bake 2," the "fast 'n bulbous" dialogue with The Mascara Snake (Victor Hayden) continues (from the beginning of "Pachuco Cadaver") before the crazed rant of "Pena," vocalized not by Beefheart but guitarist Antennae Jimmy Semens (Jeff Cotton). Another spoken-word monologue from Beefheart, "Well," precedes the album's centerpiece and longest song, "When Big Joan Sets Up." "Fallin' Ditch" exhibits just how rehearsed Trout Mask Replica actually was ("What do you run on, Rockette Morton? Say 'beans.'"). The jaunty "Sugar 'n Spikes" and soulful "Ant Man Bee" are a pair of high points.

The album's most lyrically dense song and final a cappella performance, "Orange Claw Hammer," opens side four. On "Wild Life," Beefheart's brass actually corresponds somewhat to his vocals. "She's Too Much for My Mirror" is possibly the least essential song in the set; "Hobo Chang Ba" is one of the few songs where Beefheart alters his delivery, and it even features jingle bells. On "The Blimp (mousetrapreplica)," Semens cries out about "the blimp" over the telephone while the Mothers of Invention accompany him with a generic roll, which is a refreshing change of pace. "Steal Softly thru Snow" actually sounds like traditional poetry. The album ends with a pair of musings on the old, the flat "Old Fart at Play" and the more simply psychedelic "Veteran's Day Poppy."

The legacy of Trout Mask Replica is rarely disputed, but the question of whether or not the music is good has always been a sticking point. Almost every song seems charming after enough listening, having each its own distinct personality. On the other hand, many are superfluous musically. This can probably be attributed to Captain Beefheart rather than the band, since he insisted on being credited as the sole writer, and there's only so much the band could have done with his rough drafts anyway. As it is, it's a fascinating record with a rich history, and it's a unique experience that shouldn't be passed up. It's just not a pretty one, and the complexity of the compositions should not be overstated as they often are.

Miley Cyrus—Miley Cyrus & Her Dead Petz

Miley Cyrus—Miley Cyrus & Her Dead Petz

Miley Cyrus & Her Dead Petz—Is there redemption for teen idols? History has shown that corporate singers can go on to lead distinguished careers, like Scott Walker, though the very definition of a teen idol has changed dramatically since Walker's '60s. Miley Cyrus followed in a long line of Disney starlets-turned-pop singers from Britney Spears to Demi Lovato, though Cyrus was distinguished from the rest by coming from a family with actual musical heritage, however dubious: father Billy Ray Cyrus scored a #4 hit in 1992 with the reviled "Achy Breaky Heart" and followed it with a string of other country hits. Unlike Miley and her ilk, Billy Ray was a musician first and an actor second, whereas the Disney stars were bred to be general performers: act until you're not cute anymore, then pick up a microphone and start wearing less clothing.

It's a formula that's worked for a long line of starlets, and Miley Cyrus is no exception. After her Disney series Hannah Montana ended in 2011, her image began to change when the media took hold of non-events like Cyrus' remarking on her mild drug use or her twerking of Robin Thicke at the 2013 MTV Video Music Awards. The latter event helped generate notoriety for Bangerz, her first album for RCA, which was met with halfhearted reviews and platinum sales. As Cyrus embarked on the album's supporting tour, she seemed destined for years of pop banality when early in 2014, a strange thing happened:

happy birthday to one of my favorite artists OF alllllll time @waynecoyne 🔥👄🎉🎈🌀🌈

— Miley Ray Cyrus (@MileyCyrus) January 13, 2014

A mainstream pop artist expressing admiration for an established rock act is nothing extraordinary in and of itself, but fans of the Flaming Lips would begin to look on in amazement as Cyrus and Wayne Coyne developed an actual friendship in the ensuing months. Coyne joined Cyrus on stage in Februrary for a performance of the Lips' "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, Pt. 1" and in March began to post photos of his band and Cyrus in the recording studio together.

The prospect of Cyrus and the Flaming Lips recording together was hard to swallow for most onlookers. Fans of Cyrus were generally unfamiliar with the Lips, and fans of the Lips did not care about or were skeptical of what Cyrus could bring to the mix. The collaborative sessions appeared to be unfocused and under no specific timetable, so for most of 2014 the only things that came of it were Cyrus' and Coyne's matching tattoos and a bizarre music video titled "Blonde SuperFreak Steals the Magic Brain." The Flaming Lips released With a Little Help from My Fwends in October, a song-for-song remake of Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band which featured Cyrus on the acid-washed renditions of "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" and "A Day in the Life," among many other artists.

The 22-year-old Cyrus and 54-year-old Coyne continued their platonic cavorting for nearly a year with no new material between the two and only some Instagram snippets to show for their work together. The prospective album seemed like a pipe dream until the 2015 MTV Video Music Awards, almost two years to the day after her twerking occurrence, when the two performed a new song, "Dooo It!" before Cyrus announced the independent release of Miley Cyrus & Her Dead Petz, free to stream on her website through the music service SoundCloud effective immediately. Cyrus and her cohorts sing, "Yeah I smoke pot/Yeah I love peace/But I don't give a fuck/I ain't no hippie." The vapid nature of the opening song is a clear attempt by Cyrus to alienate her existing audience, concluding with the puzzling lines, "Why they put the dick in the pussy/Fuck you." Wayne Coyne, his nephew Dennis of Stardeath and White Dwarfs, and Steven Drozd all share writing credits on it and variously on most other songs on the 92-minute album.

The pretty "Karen Don't Be Sad" is a resurrected Flaming Lips outtake from Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, which explains the overarching similarities to that album's title piece, especially lines like "You know you're only letting 'em win," mirroring the battle between Yoshimi and the evil robots, but spun like an anti-bullying message. "The Floyd Song (Sunrise)" is a tribute to Cyrus' dog, whose death was the impetus for Coyne and Cyrus to get the aforementioned With a Little Help from My Fwends tattoos. The acoustic "Something about Space Dude" and its Oren Yoel-produced counterpart "Space Boots" as a pair blur the line between her experimental songs and her radio-ready material. Therein lies the genius of the album: by sequencing it like a jukebox from the nether, the group has made a grotesque pastiche of all the parts of Cyrus' personality, as it devolves into the cacophonous "Fuckin Fucked Up," back up into the spoken-word shuffle of "BB Talk," and into the Mike Will Made It-produced ballad "Fweaky" and wanton "Bang Me Box."

"Milky Milky Milk" opens up a new Lips suite, building around a sample of "Try to Explain" from The Terror with lines like "Your lips get me so wet/While I'm singing all the verses from the Tibetan Book of Dead." On "Slab of Butter (Scorpion)," it's amusing to see that after branding each of the songs he worked on in narcissistic fashion, Mike Will Made It is now associated with a song whose chorus is, "I feel like a slab of butter that is melting in the sun." "I Forgive Yiew" is pure pop, while the lovely "I Get So Scared" touches on indie guitar pop, "Lighter" a sort of mellower new wave. "Tangerine" mixes Lips spaceship imagery with a disaffected post-party passage by Big Sean; "Tiger Dreams," featuring Ariel Pink, is a despondent number about the futility of the world.

"Evil Is a Shadow" is a highlight, sounding as if it could slot perfectly anywhere on At War with the Mystics or Embryonic. "Cyrus Skies" apotheosizes the broadening of the mind: "Yeah I've been alive/But I've been a liar/There's some kind of love/That's so much higher." "1 Sun" is performed and mixed in the vein of Lady Gaga with Cyrus referencing artistic predecessor (to both) Grace Jones. "Miley Tibetan Bowlzzz" sees Cyrus' chants echoing over Drozd's new age synthesizer, while the tragicomical "Pablow the Blowfish" continues the theme of Cyrus' unfortunate run of titular pets. The album then ends with the personal triumph of "Twinkle Song," where Cyrus sings, "I had a dream/David Bowie ... was shaped like Gumby."

Speaking of Miley Cyrus' musical merit, Miley Cyrus & Her Dead Petz would likely not be as good as it is without the involvement of the Flaming Lips. It's tempting to say that her input is secondary to what was accomplished around her, but it's pleasing to see that she's willing to go in a more challenging musical direction, even if there are some failed experiments like "BB Talk" and forgettable drek like "Bang Me Box." That is to be expected, however, especially on a 23-track album, and there are certainly more hits than misses. The unlikely friendship finally bearing fruit, Petz bodes well for Cyrus as an artist and is simultaneously a pleasant entry in the eclectic career of the Flaming Lips.

The Residents—The Tunes of Two Cities

The Residents—The Tunes of Two Cities

The Tunes of Two Cities—It is fitting that the Residents would not choose to make a traditional sequel to Mark of the Mole. They are not a transparent band, and Mole was not a clear-cut work. The follow-up is titled in respect to the Charles Dickens novel: The Tunes of Two Cities, which ironically is less of a recounting and more of a repository.

Tunes does actually satisfying the most burning question that Mole raised: What were the two cultures like before fate forever fused them? Mole did offer a portrait of Mole society, but it left much to the imagination, and Chubs were barely defined, existing primarily as villains. Tunes has a Chub right on the cover, and it's just as unflattering; he or she wears a Mole puppet that looks the same as the one on Mark of the Mole, which suggests the interesting implication that Mole was something akin to a stage show. This could be a somatic reference, as the Residents would kick off the ill-fated "Mole Show" around this time, which was topically successful but a logistical nightmare.

The liner notes explain, "The Tunes of Two Cities [...] is a documentation of the music of these two cultures as they were before fate threw them into turmoil. The tracks on this disc alternate between societies [...] making its point, not just by what is said... but by the listener's willingness to understand the globe-wrenching power of 'difference,'" implying that the Chubs are not necessarily malefactors, and that conclusions about the two peoples can be drawn a posteriori. Tunes must be analyzed in the larger context of its fiction, especially considering its songs are largely instrumental. Most of the Chub songs are styled like big band, jazz, and swing numbers or are outright adaptations of them. This music was sometimes seen in its time as a novelty: simple dance music enjoyed by the masses. The Moles' music is not crafted into songs per se, and echoes Mark of the Mole with dark, percussive noise and devotional-type chanting.

The song titles for the Mole pieces are vital to understanding the ideas, while the Chub song titles only serve to confuse. "God of Darkness" and "Praise for the Curse" are Mole hymns, while the other songs suggest tribal inclinations or rural life. The Chub titles are seemingly irreverent, such as "Smack Your Lips (Clap Your Teeth)" (which is "In the Mood" by Glenn Miller). The last two Chub songs break the cycle: "Song of the Wild" sounds like a blend of the two cultural styles, and "Happy Home," bearing the parenthetical text "Excerpt from Act II of 'Innisfree,'" takes a cue from the opening to Mark of the Mole and turns it into an ominous, lurching requiem.

The connotation seems to be that although the Moles and Chubs are wildly different, there is enough common ground to indicate the two can live in peace. This is supported by The Big Bubble (1985), whose story in the Residents' words says that several decades after the war in Mark of the Mole, some Moles and Chubs had blended socially and mixed marriages were common. The logical conclusion between this and the existence of the Mole Show seems to be that Mark of the Mole was, in fact, a theater production and not a first-hand account. If the phrase spoken in "Happy Home" is of Chub origin, and the song existed before the events of Mole (to reiterate: "the music of these two cultures as they were before"), it means this phrase was appended to the Mole production. It follows that this might cast doubt on the verity of Mark of the Mole, but the bias must reasonably come from a Mole-sympathizing Chub or a mixed-race individual.

Regarding the music outside the context of the saga, the Residents turn in a memorable performance. The sampling keyboard is used to great effect, as the noises produced by it sound more environmental than they do digital, adding atmosphere to a record that is dissonant by nature. The Mole songs are certainly the highlights, aside from the Chubs' inspired "Song of the Wild" and the at least engaging "Happy Home." It is understandable that there are four cheesy Chub tunes to even out the set, but for the listener, the point is made with just one or two; however, they are brief enough that they do not detract from the experience too greatly. The Tunes of Two Cities and its ensuing tour turned out to be near-doom for the Residents, but it is a good listen and a welcome addition to the Mole trilogy.

The Residents—Mark of the Mole

The Residents—Mark of the Mole

Mark of the Mole—Ambitious projects have fickle natures. The essence of the avant-garde poses more problems for the persistent artist, as the ability to furnish one's work is often reliant on the overall appeal of it all. The Residents have always been uncompromising, even subversive, titling their latest LP in 1980 "The Commercial Album." Until that point, the group always worked within the confines of a single production, even if the idea was grand. Their numerous albums and the scrapped Vileness Fats were all more or less self-contained. Eskimo (1979) was a challenging effort, but not a massive undertaking—then came Mark of the Mole.

The Residents are not primarily a touring band, which is not surprising, given the principles of the collective. The eyeball costumes first conceived for the cover of Eskimo gave them an approach to stage performance that allowed concealment of their identities while maintaining a certain other physiognomy. Their true intentions are not known, but Mole may not have begun life as a grandiose performance act; it was not until its follow-up The Tunes of Two Cities that the band commenced its supporting tour, "The Mole Show." It was either intended to be the first of any number of "Mole" albums (sources vary as to this quantity) or was just a single item that the Residents later decided to expand upon. Most agree that it was intended as a trilogy; The Big Bubble (1985) purported to be "Part Four of the Mole Trilogy," but this may have been a simple joke after the eventual failure of the Mole Show.

Mark of the Mole is the story of the Moles and the Chubs, who are forced to live together in the land of the Chubs when endless rain drives the Moles from their own. It is possible the catalyst for this story was something that happened to the Residents¹ or any number of existing works,² but Mole is generally treated as a pure fiction. The foreboding "Voices of the Air" seems to correspond to the abstract art on the album cover: the Moles live in a craggy underground society, suddenly unusually cloudy and breezy according to Penn Jillette's narration given in the form of a radio broadcast. "The Pit" is about to be overcome by heavy rain, which proves to be "The Ultimate Disaster." The Moles only wish to toil, worshiping darkness and a god that is referred to in related media as "Disposer." The Residents' music here is rhythmic, understated, and tribal, reflecting a rustic society. The Moles relish an uneasy calm, but as sirens and rushing water begin to be heard, they lament their impending exodus.

The unnamed speaking Mole appears to prophesy and channel his god, with a sinister voice superimposed over his words. He and the Moles conclude that there is salvation by the sea, and the chaos fades out and calmly back in as "Migration." The Moles are optimistic as they march; the music is subdued, but from a relative view this is to be taken as buoyant and cheery. The listener is introduced to the "Observer" character, who is never explicitly mentioned before or after this point. He states that the Moles move at night, and also alludes to a previous time of strife. The Moles eventually make it to "Another Land," when the Chubs speak for the first time. They seem to have only a vague understanding of whence the Moles come and see in them low-cost labor, looking to exploit their propensity to work tirelessly. The music that comes with the Chubs is uncharacteristic of their "cheap thrills" society and more reflects their sinister nature in the eyes of the Moles. The Moles line up for work and not all are given employment, suggesting overpopulation in the newly-integrated society.

Conditions seem to have stabilized as "The New Machine" begins. An engineer, who is a Mole or at least a sympathizer, proclaims he will build a "great machine" that will release the Moles from their effective slavery. The Chubs meanwhile whip themselves into a frenzy over paranoid claims that the Moles will overrun their society and "steal [their] daughters." The engineer initially fails, but with great perseverance completes his machine. This incites an uprising as he had hoped, and the Chubs jeer the Moles bitterly. The Moles are more reserved in their response to the conflict, but "The Final Confrontation" nonetheless develops. The brief conflict is represented by dissonant noise and synthesizer-sirens, eventually culminating in a wash of screams and earthen croaking. The coda is plodding and peaceful by comparison, yet tense and haunting. The liner notes to The Big Bubble indicate that the war did not end with a definite victor.

Mark of the Mole certainly comes out of left field, but it is a compelling and surprisingly relatable story. It is unmusical, but there is a genuine sense of the Moles' culture in what music does exist, and the soundscapes illustrate well the environmental conditions and settings. The lyrics and spoken words do not always clearly indicate their meanings, but the rest of the package usually gives enough context to infer the feelings and story cues. The climactic but uncertain resolution of the story and the promise of a rich, larger world leave the listener wanting more, and the grotesque characters somehow invoke compassion.

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1 residents.com/historical4/mole/page3/page3.php^↩
2 gio80.com/mark-of-the-mole^↩

Frank Zappa—Lumpy Gravy (1967 version)

Frank Zappa—Lumpy Gravy (original 1967 release)

Lumpy Gravy—The canon of Frank Zappa is immense. Among his works, there exist pieces that are perhaps more important than others in the grand scheme of things. Many of his recordings originally stemmed from older compositions and took on lives of their own. One of these such compositions is the symphonic performance Lumpy Gravy. It is important to note that there are two discrete versions of the album. The most well-known incarnation today is the 1968 release, which is constructed in a similar manner to the preceding We're Only in It for the Money (1967), but with a more experimental bent. It is a mix of varied instrumentals and edited parts of the "piano-dweller" sound bites:

"One day I decided to stuff a pair of U-87's in the piano, cover it with a heavy drape, put a sand bag on the sustain pedal and invite anybody in the vicinity to stick their head inside and ramble incoherently about the various topics I would suggest to them via the studio talk-back system [...] what emerged from the texts was a vague plot regarding pigs and ponies, threatening the lives of characters who inhabit a large piano." —Frank Zappa, liner notes of Civilization Phaze III

The other Lumpy Gravy is an orchestral work that was composed and conducted by Zappa under the Capitol label after the release of Absolutely Free (1967), but quickly pulled after a lawsuit from Zappa's regular label, MGM. This article pertains to the original Lumpy Gravy. Though they each contain much of the same music, they are distinct works with differing intentions. Lumpy Gravy is tracked with nine movements totaling a brisk 22:37. It stands as its own article, but it can also be thought of historically as the focal point of three Frank Zappa works: the soundtrack to the film The World's Greatest Sinner, "Oh No," and "King Kong."

"Oh No" is a song that exists all over Zappa's discography in various forms both vocal and instrumental. It appears here in its earliest recordings, quoted and played throughout the album. During the same time period, the Fraternity of Man released the first vocal version on their debut LP. The World's Greatest Sinner was a 1962 film for which Zappa composed the score; parts of it are played here by the "Abnuceals Emuukha Electric Symphony Orchestra," a rag-tag group of musicians commissioned for the album, some of who would later play on Orchestral Favorites (1975). "King Kong" is heard here as part of "Foamy Soaky" along with a variation on "A Pound for a Brown on the Bus." Both of these would appear in their most essential forms on Uncle Meat (1969), which itself was conceived as the soundtrack to a movie of the same name. The Uncle Meat movie would not be released until 1987.

The Lumpy Gravy of 1967 is very different than the rest of Zappa's output during that period. It is likely that Zappa was enthusiastic about the opportunity, as he was known to have been composing since age 14 under the influence of Stravinsky and Varèse. It is a compelling performance, especially for a first effort, although Zappa himself did not play in it. The 1968 Lumpy Gravy may have more relevance to the overall progression of popular music and to Zappa's own oeuvre, the original work is equally a joy to hear.

This once-rare original recording of Lumpy Gravy can be heard as an 8-track tape or as part of The Lumpy Money Project/Object (2009).

The Mothers of Invention—We're Only in It for the Money

The Mothers of Invention—We're Only in It for the Money, seen here with Frank Zappa's intended front cover artwork

We're Only in It for the Money—When people think back on groups that rivaled the Beatles, the usual nominees are the Rolling Stones or the Beach Boys, but it was possibly the Mothers of Invention with whom they had the most direct rapport. Freak Out! (1966) was, by most accounts, the impetus for Paul McCartney to form the Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band concept, but at the time of that album's release, Mothers bandleader Frank Zappa was less enthusiastic in return:

"I got the impression from what was going on at the time that they were only in it for the money—and that was a pretty unpopular view to hold." —Frank Zappa, 1987 interview with Rolling Stone

The Mothers of Invention were generally sold as a band, but this was purely nominative: their first two albums and Zappa's debut solo LP included a total of one song between the three not composed solely by Zappa. Freak Out! was one of the first rock concept albums and featured doo-wop, a smidgen of protest music, and experimental music that predated the contemporary Velvet Underground by almost a year. Absolutely Free (1967) was less pointed but continued Zappa's social commentary while mixing in Stravinsky-inspired themes. Lumpy Gravy (1967) was a different beast. That album was first recorded by Zappa and the "Abnuceals Emuukha Electric Symphony Orchestra," but later the same year Zappa took the recording and spliced with it sound bites of various band members and guests speaking near a grand piano, which was causing its strings to resonate.

During those recording sessions, the Mothers were recording material that would eventually span four LPs (We're Only in It for the Money, Cruising with Ruben & the Jets, and the double album Uncle Meat) and parts of others (Burnt Weeny Sandwich and Weasels Ripped My Flesh). Their output during this period was created with "No Commercial Potential" in mind, a loose concept referencing the notion that Zappa and the Mothers' music was not considered radio-friendly or bankable. Money was the first release in this series. The original vinyl record featured a photograph of the Mothers as transvestites on the cover with Zappa's planned artwork as the inner lining: a pastiche parodic of Sgt. Pepper that was shot down in fear of scandal.

Money is an uncommon album for just how many configurations have been released over the years. Upon its release, many songs were censored in places, all of it in varying degrees across international releases and widespread misprints. Musically, there are basically three distinct versions. There are the original mono and stereo mixes, which are not vastly different from one another but do feature some noticeable alterations beyond the number of audio channels. These are the versions likely to be heard on a modern Money CD and collectively constitute the widely preferred mix. There is also the original CD mix on which Zappa added newly-recorded rhythm sections, which is otherwise notable for featuring little to no censorship. The Lumpy Money Project/Object (2009) contains the mono mix and the CD remix but not the stereo mix among other relevant recordings. Inasmuch as these discrepancies go, all mixes have the same songs and are not fundamentally different compositions even if they sound very different to the ear.

"Are You Hung Up?" is a bizarre excerpt of Eric Clapton, engineer Gary Kellgren, and drummer Jimmy Carl Black speaking. "Who Needs the Peace Corps?" attacks hippies, while its counterpart "Concentration Moon" does the same to police. Zappa lets the listener know that no party is safe from scorn, here delivered in a crass, dull manner. What's important to note at this point is that Zappa's harmonies have become inviting compared to Absolutely Free and the non-doo wop portion of Freak Out! material. This makes the music welcome to hear even when the lyrics are not his most incisive. "Mom & Dad" continues Zappa's themes of "plastic people" in a more melancholy light.

"Bow Tie Daddy" does the same in a more gimmicky tone, preceded by a non sequitur "Telephone Conversation" and followed by "Harry, You're a Beast;" the miniature suite passively testifies against male entitlement. "What's the Ugliest Part of Your Body?" is a highlight, based around a paraprosdokian of sorts as the question's answer turns out to be "your mind." It is also one of the few numbers on the album with ties to doo-wop. A great piano interlude by Ian Underwood opens "Absolutely Free," which borrows its title from the Mothers' previous album and is as much a swipe against cheesy culture as it take-off on psychedelic, LSD-washed music. The same can be said of "Flower Punk," which uses "Hey Joe" as its basis while Zappa's myriad vocal overlays snipe the mindsets of people in popular music. "Hot Poop" is a short bout of noise that is more of Gary Kellgren ("the one doing all the creepy whispering" according to the liner notes) and an obscured missing verse from "Mother People" on side two.

"Nasal Retentive Calliope Music" begins the experimental side with more of "noted philosopher" Eric Clapton against a noise background ("an instrumental overture to a series of songs about people with strange personal habits") and a surf interspersion of "Heavies" by the Zappa-produced Rotations. "Let's Make the Water Turn Black" is one of the most accessible songs on Money by contrast, and also one of the only vocal songs that doesn't criticize American culture: the story of Ronnie and Kenny Williams (and Mothers saxophonist and road manager "Motorhead" Sherwood), who played in the Masters, an early 60s group. "The Idiot Bastard Son" continues this story at a slower pace with snippets of several speakers in the mix.

"Lonely Little Girl" was the only single from the album, clocking in at one minute counting a few sped-up fragments of other songs. "Take Your Clothes off When You Dance" has an obscure genesis, having been originally recorded in 1961 by Zappa in Cucamonga as an instrumental and here done as a near-singalong. "What's the Ugliest Part of Your Body? (Reprise)" is done here in basically the same way as on side one, but slightly mellower as the album comes to a close. "Mother People" is an updated Mothers anthem reminiscent of "Motherly Love" from Freak Out!; the orchestral interlude is a part of "Up & Down" from the original Lumpy Gravy. This piece would also be used on the renovated Lumpy Gravy as part of the "I Don't Know If I Can Go Through This Again" segment. This version would be released after Money, whose artwork shows a talk bubble above Zappa saying "Is this phase one of Lumpy Gravy?" "The Chrome Plated Megaphone of Destiny" is another piece of musique concrète that appears to be part of Zappa's series of tributes to Edgard Varèse (Zappa was a notorious fan and included a modified quote from Varèse in his albums' liner notes: "The present day composer refuses to die!").

It is difficult to discuss any of Frank Zappa's work without the larger scope of his immense discography and his life in general. We're Only in It for the Money is no exception. It sits at a crossroads for the Mothers, who would go on to perform and record a lot of material that would not appear on contemporary Mothers releases; the following two albums were recorded alongside Money and the two after that are put together from miscellaneous recordings. Zappa said of "No Commercial Potential" that "It's all one album. All the material [...] is organically related" and, indeed, the four are very close in their impressions. Money and the second Lumpy Gravy are also part of a different continuity that involves Zappa's final work during his lifetime, Civilization Phaze III. Despite this, We're Only in It for the Money is the most cohesive of the Mothers' albums, with a simple sound that masks dense material. Its cultural relevance has faded somewhat, but it is still an important and forward-thinking record, which is why it was selected in 2005 to be part of the United States National Recording Registry. Its music is not for everyone, but it is nonetheless a fascinating piece of history and a work of genius.