Garage Sale Vinyl: Frank Zappa
Joe’s Garage Acts II & III / Zappa Records / November 1979
by Christopher Long
Rewind — summertime 1980. A perfect pink sunrise was just peeking out atop the rugged Ozark Mountains when my wily crew finally rolled in after another memorable all-nighter brimming with misguided teenage exploits. And as our cruising vessel sputtered to a stop on my buddy’s parents’ driveway with engine (and tires) smoldering, the Orwellian insights of the Central Scrutinizer blasted from my buddy’s Jensen Triaxial car speakers. We were music-crazed high school misfits who excelled exceedingly well at making poor life choices, and for us, Frank Zappa was THE MAN. Our criminal institutions are full of little creeps like you who do wrong things!
One of the coolest aspects of growing up during the simpler, wide-eyed, pre-Internet, pre-“enlightened” era of the 1970s was living in a world seemingly free of musical and expressional boundaries. From popular TV shows, including The Midnight Special and Don Kirshner’s Rock Concert, to Casey Kasem’s weekly Top 40 radio countdown, to various music-related magazine publications that actually embraced (of all things) free speech, constant, free-thinking pop culture content was available readily to young consumers like me.
As a result, I hung on the words of such music writers as Lester Bangs as much as I did on my parents’, teachers’ and preachers’. To this day, even as a little old man, I’m not afraid of words. I might be afraid of the IRS, divorce attorneys, and agitated Lipa-loving baristas, but I’m not afraid of words. And musically, I still can’t hear genres — I simply hear music, as my personal iGadget shuffles randomly from Carly Simon and Motörhead to Loretta Lynn and Buddy Guy to King Crimson and Debbie Gibson. And that’s probably what appealed to me most when I first discovered the music of Frank Zappa — his artistry knew no boundaries, and it wasn’t afraid of anything or anybody. For me personally, Zappa’s lyrics weren’t “funny,” and they certainly weren’t “dirty.” They were interesting. And his chaotic music wasn’t “weird.” It was inspiring.
I first became acutely aware of Zappa when he performed on Saturday Night Live in late 1978. I was only 15 at the time, but I took note. However, it wasn’t until early 1979, when we received a promotional, in-store copy of Zappa’s Sheik Yerbouti LP at the record shop where I worked after school that I became obsessed with the iconic avant-garde artist.
The compositions contained within that two-record Sheik Yerbouti set were orchestrated meticulously. Yet to me, the music still felt dangerous, spontaneous. The blistering, urgent guitar playing on “I’m So Cute,” “Rat Tomago,” “The Sheik Yerbouti Tango,” and “Yo’ Mama” was unlike anything I’d heard before. For a young aspiring drummer, Terry Bozzio’s frustrating tracks also had a profound impact. And it was Sheik Yerbouti that first introduced me to up-and-coming guitar phenom Adrian Belew. All of these components added up to one massive musical statement — one that thwacked me completely. I can’t even count the hours I spent holed up in my bedroom during the summer of ‘79, processing, analyzing, and savoring every song. Why don’t you take it down to C-sharp, Ernie?
In September ‘79, Zappa dropped Joe’s Garage Act I. I snatched up an initial cassette copy of the single album, posthaste. The double LP, Joe’s Garage Acts II & III would follow in November. I also bought that one promptly, on vinyl. Tragically, it would vanish from my collection in ensuing years.
Telling the compelling and conflicted tale of a troubled rock star-in-training (Joe), and his groupie-in-training girlfriend (Lucille), the first installment of Zappa’s soon-to-be three-record rock opera educated me about the correlation between music, heartbreak, and “unpronounceable diseases.” Assuming the role of the story’s prophetic narrator, “the Central Scrutinizer,” Zappa cautioned listeners on how the government ultimately would criminalize music, while also revealing in graphic detail everything a kid needed (or didn’t need) to know about “alternative lifestyles.” Jeepers, Mom! What the heck is a “golden shower?”
The Joe’s Garage saga further introduced me to several of my future all-time favorite musicians, including guitarist Warren Cuccurullo, vocalist / guitarist Ike Willis, drummer Vinnie Colaiuta, and an exciting blond bombshell back-up vocalist named Dale Bozzio.
Subsequent Zappa records such as Tinsel Town Rebellion, You Are What You Is, Ship Arriving Too Late to Save a Drowning Witch, and Broadway the Hard Way also would all wind up in my ever-expanding music library over the next several years.
Recently, I wagered a bet with a buddy that we likely wouldn’t be living in such a sissified, hypersensitive, politically correct world of coerced, weepy public apologies if Zappa still was around to take the piss out of today’s “tolerant” cultural objectives — which reminded me of my favorite Zappa quote; “There’s a big difference between kneeling down and bending over.”
Not too long ago, I was gifted a couple of FREE crates full of musty old records from my Florida nail tech. Tucked inside one of those creaky crates was a copy of Joe’s Garage Acts II & III. To my surprise, the record was in pristine condition. And it was wonderful to finally reconnect with this classic, on vinyl. Truth be told, it remained on my turntable for the next week.
It could be said that Frank Zappa was quite an inventive “mother” — a visionary, a prolific genius. A truly brilliant artist, Frank Zappa was a gifted composer, a master musician, and an extraordinary producer who didn’t take any shit from anybody. Of his many career highlights, I’d personally point to the entire three-record Joe’s Garage series as his most impressive musical achievement.
It might seem wacky, but the guy who was known for making “crazy,” “weird’ music was the same guy who created “Watermelon in Easter Hay” — the soaring ten-minute opus that appeared on Side Four of Joe’s Garage Acts II & III.
A simply splendid production, “Watermelon” felt like a melancholy dream. To this day, Zappa’s sparkling, ambient guitar tone remains the most intoxicating I’ve ever heard. The track continues to be regarded by many aficionados as Zappa’s finest work.
And what’s really ironic is that this beautiful piece of instrumental music was composed by the same “offensive” character who wrote all those “dirty” lyrics that caused Tipper Gore, Fritz Hollings, and all the other distinguished tight-asses such anxiety during the infamous 1985 PMRC hearings. Decades later, relatively few folks remember Paula Hawkins, however, many enthusiasts still remember and revere Frank Zappa. He used to cut the grass. He was a very nice boy!
5/5 ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
Joe’s Garage Acts II & III Track List
*All songs written by Frank Zappa except where noted.
SIDE ONE: ACT II
1. A Token of My Extreme – 5:28
2. Stick It Out 4:33
3. Sy Borg – 8:50
SIDE TWO: ACT II
1. Dong Work For Yuda (Zappa, Smothers) – 5:03
2\ Keep It Greasey – 8:22
3. Outside Now – 5:52
SIDE THREE: ACT III
1. He Used to Cut the Grass – 8:34
2. Packard Goose – 11:38
SIDE FOUR: ACT III
1. Watermelon in Easter Hay – 10:00
2. A Little Green Rosetta – 7:25
