Io ce lo vedo proprio il buon Francone che, mentre all'interno dello studio di registrazione dà gli ultimi ritocchi al suo ultimo disco, sogghigna sotto quei baffoni divenuti ormai leggendari. Magari osservato da Steve Vai, o Ike Willis, o forse il bassista Arthur Barrow, o forse ancora qualche altro dei talentuosi musicisti che lo hanno accompagnato nelle registrazioni di "You Are What You Is" (tra cui ci sono anche David Logeman alla batteria e Tommy Mars alle tastiere), uscito nel 1981 ma registrato l'anno precedente. Forse uno dei suoi collaboratori, forse due, forse tutti, avrebbero visto Francone sorridere, e si sarebbero chiesti se il suo fosse un semplice sorriso divertito oppure uno compiaciuto. Perchè, alla fine della fiera, viene da chiedersi solo una cosa: ma per tutto questo tempo Frank Vincent Zappa, classe 1940, ci ha preso bellamente per il culo?
Frank Zappa, nativo di Baltimora, compositore geniale, portavoce della musica totale, talent scout brillante e soprattutto capo di tutti i freaks. I pazzi, gli stramboidi, i mostri, gli emarginati dal mondo portati alla ribalta ed esaltati da Francone, perchè lui è quello più pazzo di tutti. Sotto migliaia di note, decine di dischi, centinaia di canzoni quello che rimane del baffone è il lucido, meraviglioso seme della follia, quella follia che accomuna tutti i geni. E tanta rabbia verso la cosiddetta "società".
La gioventù ormai bruciata, il cui unico ideale comune sembra solo la ricerca ossessiva di nuovi modi per drogarsi; mogli fedifraghe; uomini il cui unico linguaggio universale è rappresentato dalle macchine costose e dai vestiti firmati; questo è il mondo in cui vive Frank Zappa, questa è la società messa alla berlina da colui che più di tutti rappresenta la gente maltrattata dai "normali", i "giusti", i "meritevoli".
Ma questa volta niente sperimentalismo. Nessuna di quelle pazzie d'avanguardia che fecero la fortuna dei vari "Absolutely Free" e "We're Only In It For The Money", tanto amate dai critici quanto odiate dal pubblico "generalista", quello che ascolta la radio mentre svolge le faccende di casa o si dirige nel proprio ufficio. Questa volta Francone vuole sbattere in faccia a chiunque ciò che pensa, tutto il suo disgusto, come ormai l'America tanto decantata nei libri di storia sia ormai diventata covo di un mucchio di imbecilli con la bava alla bocca e un buco nero nella calotta cranica, e per farlo tenta la via più difficile: l'ironia. Tagliente, dissacrante, come solo i grandi autori sanno fare. Ironia miscelata ad un rock estremamente orecchiabile ma allo stesso tempo incredibilmente complesso, questo perchè Frank Vincent Zappa non cerca mai la strada più semplice.
Lui, il re dei freaks, il genio, non sceglie mai il sentiero; sempre la scalata. E nel fare il percorso più complesso, nonostante la fatica e le critiche, non perde mai quel ghigno al confine tra il ridicolo e il malefico, quello che immagino lo abbia accompagnato alla fine dell'ascolto di ogni suo lavoro.
Perchè, alla fine della fiera, il suo obiettivo è raggiunto: Frank Zappa riesce sempre a prenderci tutti per il culo.
Elenco tracce testi e video
02 Harder Than Your Husband (02:36)
Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Ike Willis (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Ray White (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Bob Harris (boy soprano, trumpet)
Steve Vai (guitar)
Tommy Mars (keyboards)
Arthur Barrow (bass)
Ed Mann (percussion)
David Ocker (clarinet, bass clarinet)
Motorhead Sherwood (tenor saxophone, vocals)
Denny Walley (slide guitar, vocals)
David Logeman (drums)
Craig Steward (harmonica)
Jimmy Carl Black (vocals)
Ahmet Zappa (vocals)
Moon Zappa (vocals)
We must say good-bye
There's no need for you to cry
It's better that I tell you this tonight
Our affair has been quite heated
You thought I was what you needed
But the time has come, my darlin'
To set things right, 'cause
I'll be harder than yer husband
To get along with
Harder than yer husband every night
Harder than yer husband
Harder than yer husband
An' I don't want our love affair
To end with a fight
You been like a little angel
How you loved me
I appreciate the warmth of your embrace
Well, the world don't need to know
How I adored you
But there's somethin' I must tell you, darlin'
Face to face...
I'll be harder than yer husband
To get along with
Harder than yer husband every night
Harder than yer husband
Harder than yer husband
An' I don't want our love affair
To end with a fight
So it's adios, adios, my little darlin'
(adios my little darlin'...)
Gotta go now...
Keep that hankie that I gave you for
when you cry
There are things that trouble me
And I'm sure that you must see
That it breaks my heart the same as yours
When we say good-bye
Harder than yer husband
Harder than yer...much, much, much
Harder than yer husband
Harder than yer...much, much, much
Harder than yer husband
Harder than yer...much, much, much
Harder than yer husband
Harder than yer...
03 Doreen (05:00)
Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Ike Willis (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Ray White (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Bob Harris (boy soprano, trumpet)
Steve Vai (guitar)
Tommy Mars (keyboards)
Arthur Barrow (bass)
Ed Mann (percussion)
David Ocker (clarinet, bass clarinet)
Motorhead Sherwood (tenor saxophone, vocals)
Denny Walley (slide guitar, vocals)
David Logeman (drums)
Craig Steward (harmonica)
Jimmy Carl Black (vocals)
Ahmet Zappa (vocals)
Moon Zappa (vocals)
Doreen...don't make me wait
Til tomorrow
Oh-wo-no-oh-wo...
Please darling
Let me love you tonight
An' it'll be awright
You...can't make me say
I don't want you
Oh-wo-no-oh-wo...
My heart
Is burning with love
And I want you tonight
I really love you
You make me feel good
Please don't deceive me
Doreen you know you should
Stay with me always
We could be lovers
Doreen you're different
Then all the...others
Doreen...don't make me wait
Til tomorrow
Oh-wo-no-oh-wo...
Please darling
Let me love you tonight
An' it'll be awright
You...can't make me say
I don't want you
Oh-wo-no-oh-wo...
My heart
Is burning with love
And I want you tonight
06 Society Pages (02:26)
Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Ike Willis (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Ray White (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Bob Harris (boy soprano, trumpet)
Steve Vai (guitar)
Tommy Mars (keyboards)
Arthur Barrow (bass)
Ed Mann (percussion)
David Ocker (clarinet, bass clarinet)
Motorhead Sherwood (tenor saxophone, vocals)
Denny Walley (slide guitar, vocals)
David Logeman (drums)
Craig Steward (harmonica)
Jimmy Carl Black (vocals)
Ahmet Zappa (vocals)
Moon Zappa (vocals)
You're the ol' lady from the society pages
From a small town somewhere I used to be
You owned the paper and a bunch of other stuff
That didn't appeal to me
OL' LADY OL'LADY
OL' LADY OL'LADY
OL' LADY OL'LADY
OL' LADY OL'LADY
The hostpital plans (yer brother drew 'em all)
You ran the paper 'n Charity Ball
Every day on the third or fourth page
There you was..you was quite the rage
Somehow you was all kinda cheap 'n wrong
Just like in a lotta small towns
Where folks like you
Hang around too long
And pass out jobs to yer relatives 'n such
So you all keeps a lot, 'n nobody else
Ever gets too much...to speak of...
So what? What can you say?
So long as the trash gets picked up
So long as the trash gets locked up
Just so the trash don't stack up
Some day you won't be on page three
Or page four anymore
OL' LADY OL'LADY
OL' LADY OL'LADY
OL' LADY OL'LADY
OL' LADY OL'LADY
By the grace of God you had a son
He's the one and only one
He grew up and by and by
He came to be a Beautiful Guy
10 Any Downers? (02:08)
Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Ike Willis (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Ray White (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Bob Harris (boy soprano, trumpet)
Steve Vai (guitar)
Tommy Mars (keyboards)
Arthur Barrow (bass)
Ed Mann (percussion)
David Ocker (clarinet, bass clarinet)
Motorhead Sherwood (tenor saxophone, vocals)
Denny Walley (slide guitar, vocals)
David Logeman (drums)
Craig Steward (harmonica)
Jimmy Carl Black (vocals)
Ahmet Zappa (vocals)
Moon Zappa (vocals)
And all around
At the side of the grave
Stood Charlie's friends
Who could not save
This stupid girl
From the way she behaved
But among the mourners
And the frowners
A cry were heard...(aaaargh!)
ANY DOWNERS?
ANY DOWNERS?
ANY DOWNERS?
ANY DOWNERS?
No I ain't got any more
No I ain't got any more
No I ain't got any more
No I ain't got any more
Your downers are gone
They was all you could get
To ease your mind
And your deep regret
Over Charlie's mouth
So enormous 'n wet
Now all you got
Is your TV set
You turn it on
And watch and dream
A dream of love
On the tiny screeen
And what do you see
As you lay in bed?
It's a bald kinda girl
With a pointed head
Oh no...
11 Conehead (04:15)
Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Ike Willis (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Ray White (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Bob Harris (boy soprano, trumpet)
Steve Vai (guitar)
Tommy Mars (keyboards)
Arthur Barrow (bass)
Ed Mann (percussion)
David Ocker (clarinet, bass clarinet)
Motorhead Sherwood (tenor saxophone, vocals)
Denny Walley (slide guitar, vocals)
David Logeman (drums)
Craig Steward (harmonica)
Jimmy Carl Black (vocals)
Ahmet Zappa (vocals)
Moon Zappa (vocals)
Conehead...she ain't really dumb
She's just a
Conehead...'tater chip crumbs
All over her face
Is there any more beer
Stashed away at her place? She's just a
Conhead...she can't help herself
"She's a Conehead girl..."
Pitch her a ring
That is the thing
That's getting her hot-uh
A hoop or a ring
Goin' over the top of her Conehead
"She is from a small town in France
'N she's a Conehead kind of a girl, kind
of guy"
That's what she gives me is-uh Oooh!
Conehead
When she's on her knees
The point is so high
I keep sayin' please
Keep it out of my eye, she's a
Conehead
(She's a Conehead kind of a girl, kind of
guy, kind of a girl-thing...)
Saturday Night
You're home alone
The TV lights up
As her dad comes home
He's been workin' all day
At the drivin' school
In a stupid-lookin' hat
That he uses to fool
The people of Earth
Who might get back
If they knew he was really
From Remulak, where the
Conehead...people are from, where the
Conehead...people go to, when the
Conehead...people are done with their
Conehead...things that are fun
Connie the cone
Is dressed real neat
Like a teen-age girl
From down the street
But Mom 'n Dad
They don't approve
Carbohydrates
Is all they groove
Connie's eye
Has a tiny tear
But they rinse it away
With a case of beer
A bag of chips
'N fiberglass
Her diet's a riot
I can't keep quiet
I'd love to try it
But I think I'll pass
To eat that kind of stuff they pack
You'd hafta be from *Remulak*, where the
Conehead...people are from, where the
Conehead...people go to, when the
Conehead...people are done with the
Conehead...things that are fun, where the
Conehead...people are from, where the
Conehead...people go to, when the
Conehead...people are done, with the
Conehead...things that are fun
Carico i commenti... con calma