• Voto:
Il freak ormai non era più un pischello, questo è certo. Gli anni della sua giovinezza erano stati impiegati a preparare abbondanti porzioni di topi caldi, da servire ancora fumanti nel timorato desco della comunità americana. Eppure, il tempo trascorso non aveva affievolito la sua determinazione nell' adempiere la sua missione, che si può riassumere nei tre punti sottoelencati:
1) creare una musica al di là dei generi, in cui confluissero le lezioni dei grandi musicisti contemporanei (Stravinsky, Varèse), il jazz, l' hard rock e il ritm'n'blues, ma che al tempo stesso fosse talmente originale e complessa da non poter essere ricondotta a nessun genere preciso
2) incidere un numero di dischi fuori dal comune
3) cagare il cazzo alla comunità poc'anzi menzionata
Per meglio assolvere i propri compiti, il nostro aveva da poco fondato una propria etichetta, la Zappa Records, che gli consentiva di pubblicare i suoi 6-7 dischi all' anno senza che gli zelanti esperti di music business gli rendessero le palle a frappè con edificanti lezioni sulle strategie di marketing. Con questa nuova label, nel 1979 nasce lo sceicco "agita il culo”, che ti guarda sornione dalla copertina del disco come a dirti “sì cazzone, agita il culo con la tua disco music di merda, io nel frattempo mi faccio una sizza poi suono un po’: tu vedi che puoi fare, ascolta Dancin’ Fool e poi rifletti su quanto sei stronzo”.
Perché Francesco Vincenzo, as usual, non fa sconti a nessuno (nemmeno al suo – sembra - maldestro tastierista, che viene elegantemente invitato a tornarsene da mamma) e sforna un disco irrinunciabile. E’ vero che molti album precedenti sono stilisticamente migliori di questo, ma Sheik è imprescindibile; e’ vero che le suites orchestrali di The Grand Wazoo sono un’ opera d’arte, ma Sheik è obbligatorio; è vero che Over-nite sensation è una rivoluzione, ma Sheik è inevitabile.
Sheik si fregia della presenza di Adrian Belew (“cazzo ma adrian biliù dei ching crimson???” si caro, proprio lui) e di Terry Bozzio alla batteria; in Sheik la ricerca del formalismo è esasperata in ogni pezzo (quasi tutti i brani sono registrati live e successivamente sovraincisi in studio) e ciononostante il risultato è quello di un disco orecchiabile fin dal primo ascolto.
Ma la ragione reale, dogmatica e indiscutibile che rende Sheik una conditio sine qua non è che in questo disco Francesco Vincenzo si scaglia con appassionato vigore contro la vera piaga della società odierna: i fighetti. Frank, con la sua sensibilità perfetta, stigmatizza e distrugge il concetto stesso di fighetto, sia nella sua accezione maschile (“Bobby Brown goes down”) che in quella femminile (“Jewish Princess”).
Piccola, un mondo senza fighetti è un mondo migliore. Un mondo senza fighetti è la Shangri-la dove potremo trovare la quiete che tanto ardentemente aneliamo. E finalmente liberi, potrò stare in te così intimamente, e ogni cosa andrà bene. In sottofondo suonerà Frank, perché Frank è come me: non siamo opulenti fighetti, ma siamo tanto carini.
E teniamo una minchia tanta.
Elenco tracce testi samples e video
02 Flakes (06:42)
Flakes! Flakes!
Flakes! Flakes!
They don't do no good
They never be workin'
When they oughta should
They waste your time
They're wastin' mine
California's got the most of them
Boy, they got a host of them
Swear t'God they got the most
At every business on the coast
Swear t'God they got the most
At every business on the coast
They got the Flakes
Flakes! Flakes!
They can't fix yer brakes
You ask 'em, "Where's my motor?"
"Well, it was eaten by snakes..."
You can stab 'n' shoot 'n' spit
But they won't be fixin' it
They're lyin' an' lazy
They can be drivin' you crazy
Swear t'God they got the most
At every business on the coast
Swear t'God they got the most
At every business on the coast
Take it away, Bob...
I asked as nice as I could
If my job would
Somehow be finished by Friday
Well, them whole damn weekend
came 'n' went, Frankie
Wanna buy some mandies, Bob?
'N' they didn't do nothin'
But they charged me double for Sunday
You know, no matter what you do,
They gonna cheat 'n' rob you
Then they'll send you a bill
That'll get your senses reelin'
And if you do not pay
They got computer collectors
That'll get you so crazy
'Til your head'll go through th' ceilin'
Yes it will!
I'm a moron, 'n' this is my wife
She's frosting a cake
With a paper knife
All what we got here's
American made
It's a little bit cheesey,
But it's nicely displayed
Well we don't get excited when it
Crumbles 'n' breaks
We just get on the phone
And call up some Flakes
They rush on over
'N' wreck it some more
'N' we are so dumb
They're linin' up at our door
Well, the toilet went crazy
Yersterday afternoon
The plumber he says
Never flush a tampoon!
This great information
Cost me half a week's pay
And the toilet blew up
Later on the next day-ay-eee-ay
Blew up the next day
WOO-OOO
We are millions 'n' millions,
We're coming to get you
We're protected by unions
So don't let it upset you
Can't escape the conclusion
It's probably God's Will
That civilization
Will grind to a standstill
And we are the people
Who will make it all happen
While yer children is sleepin',
Yer puppy is crappin'
You might call us Flakes
Or something else you might coin us
But we know you're so greedy
That you'll probably join us
We're coming to get you, we're coming to get you
We're coming to get you, we're coming to get you
We're coming to get you, we're coming to get you
We're coming to get you, we're coming to get you...
===========
Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Adrian Belew (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Tommy Mars (keyboards, vocals)
Peter Wolf (keyboards)
Patrick O'Hearn (bass, vocals)
Terry Bozzio (drums, vocals)
Ed Mann (percussion, vocals)
Napoleon Murphy Brock (background vocals)
Andre Lewis (background vocals)
Randy Thornton (background vocals)
Davey Moire (background vocals)
05 Jones Crusher (02:50)
My baby's got
Jones crushin' love
Jones crushin' love
Jones crushin' love
Well my baby's got
Jones crushin' love
Jones crushin' love
Jones crushin' love
She don't merely fit like a glove
That little girl's got the jones
That little girl's got the jones
That little girl's got the jones
She's tryin' to
Grind up my jones
Grind up my jones
Grind up my jones
Well, she's tryin' to
Grind up my jones
Grind up my jones
Grind up my jones
She don't never wanna leave it alone
She can push; she can shove
Till it's just a nub
She can push; she can shove
Till it's just a nub
Just a nub
Just a nub
Here she comes
With her red dress on
Steam shoots out
>From the sprinklers on the lawn
The eyes be rollin'
On the concrete fawn
The wind can't blow
'Cause the sky is gone
The wind can't blow
'Cause the sky is gone
The wind can't blow
'Cause the sky is gone
Jones crusher, jones crusher
Deadly jaws, better get the gauze
She's a jones crusher, jones crusher
Deadly jaws, better get the gauze
(etc. ad lib)
========
Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Adrian Belew (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Tommy Mars (keyboards, vocals)
Peter Wolf (keyboards)
Patrick O'Hearn (bass, vocals)
Terry Bozzio (drums, vocals)
Ed Mann (percussion, vocals)
Napoleon Murphy Brock (background vocals)
Andre Lewis (background vocals)
Randy Thornton (background vocals)
Davey Moire (background vocals)
07 Rat Tomago (05:16)
Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Adrian Belew (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Tommy Mars (keyboards, vocals)
Peter Wolf (keyboards)
Patrick O'Hearn (bass, vocals)
Terry Bozzio (drums, vocals)
Ed Mann (percussion, vocals)
Napoleon Murphy Brock (background vocals)
Andre Lewis (background vocals)
Randy Thornton (background vocals)
Davey Moire (background vocals)
(Instrumental)
09 Bobby Brown (02:50)
Hey there, people, I'm Bobby Brown
They say I'm the cutest boy in town
My car is fast, my teeth are shiney
I tell all the girls they can kiss my heinie
Here I am at a famous school
I'm dressin' sharp 'n' I'm
actin' cool
I got a cheerleader here wants to help with my paper
Let her do all the work 'n' maybe later I'll rape her
Oh God I am the American dream
I do not think I'm too extreme
An' I'm a handsome sonofabitch
I'm gonna get a good job 'n' be real rich
(get a good
get a good
get a good
get a good job)
Women's Liberation
Came creepin' across the nation
I tell you people I was not ready
When I fucked this dyke by the name of Freddie
She made a little speech then,
Aw, she tried to make me say "when"
She had my balls in a vice, but she left the dick
I guess it's still hooked on, but now it shoots too quick
Oh God I am the American dream
But now I smell like Vaseline
An' I'm a miserable sonofabitch
Am I a boy or a lady...I don't know which
(I wonder wonder
wonder wonder)
So I went out 'n' bought me a leisure suit
I jingle my change, but I'm still kinda cute
Got a job doin' radio promo
An' none of the jocks can even tell I'm a homo
Eventually me 'n' a friend
Sorta drifted along into S&M
I can take about an hour on the tower of power
'Long as I gets a little golden shower
Oh God I am the American dream
With a spindle up my butt till it makes me scream
An' I'll do anything to get a head
I lay awake nights sayin', "Thank you, Fred!"
Oh God, oh God, I'm so fantastic!
Thanks to Freddie, I'm a sexual spastic
And my name is Bobby Brown
Watch me now, I'm goin down,
And my name is Bobby Brown
Watch me now, I'm goin down,
And my name is Bobby Brown
Watch me now, I'm goin down....
10 Rubber Shirt (02:45)
Yeah, I knew you'd be surprised!
========
Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Adrian Belew (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Tommy Mars (keyboards, vocals)
Peter Wolf (keyboards)
Patrick O'Hearn (bass, vocals)
Terry Bozzio (drums, vocals)
Ed Mann (percussion, vocals)
Napoleon Murphy Brock (background vocals)
Andre Lewis (background vocals)
Randy Thornton (background vocals)
Davey Moire (background vocals)
11 The Sheik Yerbouti Tango (03:56)
Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Adrian Belew (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Tommy Mars (keyboards, vocals)
Peter Wolf (keyboards)
Patrick O'Hearn (bass, vocals)
Terry Bozzio (drums, vocals)
Ed Mann (percussion, vocals)
Napoleon Murphy Brock (background vocals)
Andre Lewis (background vocals)
Randy Thornton (background vocals)
Davey Moire (background vocals)
Why dontcha take it down the seashore, Bernie?
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Altre recensioni
Di Viva Lì
Sheik Yerbouti si basa, e vive, grazie alla fantasia geniale e folle di Frank Zappa capace di contaminare, in maniera estasiante, più generi musicali insieme.
È la straordinaria amalgama tra band e compositore che rende questo album unico e irripetibile.
