By Joe Mancini, 3 pp
Frank Zappa, on-stage, doesn't seem to care.
He lumbers out, slung with guitar, inscrutable. A spindly, hairy Buddha in blue jeans.
Frank Zappa takes his time.
The nerve of Frank Zappa, he keeps the audience waiting, sneers at them, addresses them with sarcasm and contempt.
But when he's good and ready Frank Zappa makes things happen.
Lights flicker, blaze, die out.
Then come the sounds. Loud, louder, loudest, all kinds of sounds. Old sounds, new sounds, Elvis Presley, Igor Stravinsky, the Supremes, the Andrews Sisters, Dick Haymes, Spike Jones. A lot of the past, plenty of now and an assault on the future.
The Mothers of Invention: Frank Zappa, six other maniacs and a pile of musical instruments.
They are satirists, iconoclasts, nostalgicians, super talented musicians.
They are a lot more. (read more)