ZAPPANALE #13 – Day the 3rd
Having lost
my programme with my luggage, I completely forgot that today’s performers would
start earlier than previously, so Ian and me went to the seaside for a brief
paddle in the Baltic. By the time we got back, we’d missed Jazzprojeckt
(had had most everyone else, seemingly), Vaclav Cesak, and Beistelltische
(shame, I’ve heard their all-vocal shenanigans before and would likened to have
seen them). Can’t remember much about Sweden’s Arne Fruit Quartet (the
sun was getting to me – Ian told me that their lead singer wore an
unnecessarily offensive T-shirt at Zappanale #11), but France’s Nasal
Retentive Orchestra were notable for their exorcism of the ghost of Le Pen
– hey: be a c@?t, vote National Front – via a frozen chicken (which they
injected with lighter fuel, ignited, and then axed to bits before making the
water turn black). Ian and I listened to the rest of their set from the
backstage area where we chatted for about 40 minutes with Ike Willis. He
compared his role at Zappanale to that of an all-rounder in baseball
(“Helping out wherever I’m needed”; he later fixed an amp during Lennon/Tabacco/Zappa’s
set, and played a Wurlitzer-like organ solo for them during 50/50). I of
course sang Take Me Out To The Ball Game. I asked him what Frank was
going on about when he mentioned the phrase “We’re Beatrice” in The Real FZ
Book, and Ike patiently explained that Beatrice Foods was one of about four
huge conglomerates that bought up most of the companies in the US and at one
time every TV ad appeared to end with this corny old phrase – much to Frank and
Ike’s amusement. Didn’t know that – but then I never understood half of Billy
The Mountain either. Noting that he was reading The Hitchhiker’s Guide
To The Galaxy, we spoiled the mood slightly by informing him that Douglas
Adams was now no more. He didn’t know that. I managed to get a Beatles Top 10
out of him – and the fact that Uncle Frank used to change his kids diapers –
before he had to go and help someone else out.
Now regular
visitors to my site will know that Nigey Lennon and me correspond a fair bit –
in fact it was me who introduced her to the Arf Society, which lead to her and
Candy and Bob and Ed Palermo’s appearances here – so forgive me if I sound a
bit biased, but I thought the Lennon/Tabacco/Zappa band played a great
set. They were under pressure to play more FZ and had to drop Pirates Of Old
Northport, on which I was scheduled to sing a verse. But they still played
mainly original material, including two new songs from their sequel to Billy
The Mountain (which, with Nigey’s help, I’ll probably understand a bit
more). John Tabacco sang most of the songs performed, including Jelly Roll
Gumdrop and encore 50/50. He also sang (with a knowing wink to me at
the side of the stage, ‘cause he knows I like it a lot) his beautiful Two
Steps Forward, One Step Back that ended their set proper. Surprisingly, someone
in the audience yelled, “Play something we know!” after a blistering version of
Cosmic Debris, sung by Candy with help from Ike Willis. Maybe the tuba
solo threw him? [It’s a Zappanale tradition? Oh, how sweet!] Nigey sang
a couple of tunes (including Wino, Man – the comma being crucial here),
and Jimmy Carl Black – wearing his waistcoat from 200 Motels – sang a
duet with Candy on Nigey’s new C&W tune, Stolen Cadillac. Another
highlight. ‘Twas only a shame that Nigey’s slide guitar could hardly be heard.
After LTZ, Jim
Cohen (who I should have mentioned earlier, is the excellent bilingual MC at
these happening’s and pretty much holds them together) and Ike Willis relayed
Lenny Bruce’s Lone Ranger-Unnatural Acts routine before, one-by-one, the
Grandmothers West started to fill the stage. They had a lengthy
warm-up/soundcheck that included Don Preston playing The Rite Of Spring
and the theme from Star Trek, and Roy Estrada shouting, “Right there!”
For those who haven’t been paying attention, the Grannies this time out was:
Don, Roy, Napoleon Murphy Brock, Bob Harris and Bunk Gardner. They were aided
and abetted by Project/Object’s part-time drummer Glen Leonard and guitarist
André Cholmondeley. Having heard the Don dominated line-up
from late-2001, and heard from Bob Harris that he would be mainly playing his
trumpet, I was a little apprehensive about whether Don would let Napi sing! But
I needn’t have worried. It was like being transported back in time to the
Mothers’ 10th Anniversary tour, as Mr Brock dramatically sang a
string of their early smash-flops. He’s so energetic that watching him wore me
out. Needless to say, with this line-up they could play almost anything from
Frank’s extensive catalogue, but the most recent tunes played were a couple of
Don’s compositions (during The
Eternal Question – which of course featured Jimmy Carl Black complaining
about his WOIIFTM dress– Bunk relayed his ‘fudge story’). Napi, Bob
& Bunk impersonated the Fowler Brothers unison blowing during an excellent Son
Of Orange County, and Napi’s lady Cathy, Jimmy’s wife Moni and the
ever-lovely Miss Pamela (she’s the same age as Robert Plant, but she’s
definitely weathered better) demonstrated fine Terpsichorean abilities for a
large chunk of the band’s performance. A real nice surprise was Roy Estrada
singing In The Sky (which of course used to be a part of Uncle Meat
all those years ago). This just might have beaten the Project/Object and Ed
Palermo sets, but mainly because there were so many ex-Mothers up there and it
was the last night and everything.
Ian and me
stayed for a chat backstage with all the lovely folk there, and Miss Pamela
showed me her James Dean tattoo (like a Bishop’s diocese, it’s on the back of
her neck). All them as wanted hugging was hugged, and that night (morning?) not
even a bunch of inconsiderate folk playing Sid Vicious’s My Way full
blast at 4 a.m. outside our tent could wipe the smile from my face. All too
soon we were travelling back to Lübeck and my luggage. Miss Pamela flew to dear Old Blighty
with us – she is in the process of negotiating a deal with publishers over here
to issue a special edition of her book, I’m With The Band – so Ian felt
duty bound to inform her about my nocturnal ‘heavy breathing’. I wonder if that
will get a mention in the reprinted book? Well, reality soon hit us as we
waited for about an hour for our luggage to get off the plane at Stansted. And
that’s the end of the story.
Will Zappanale
#14 be even better? Can’t wait to find out.
Words: The Idiot. Photos: Iandrew Greenaday.