Perfectly Frank
By Alan di Perna
Two new archival releases give a candid look at Frank Zappa's wacky genius.
★★★½
FRANK ZAPPA
Joe's Corsage
Joe's Domage
VAULTERNATIVE
NOBODY IN HIS OR HER RIGHT MIND would want to listen to these recordings. In other words, this is music intended only for staunch Frank Zappa fans.
It is for obsessive devotees like us that the Zappa family has delved into the vault beneath the ancestral home off L.A.s Laurel Canyon Boulevard and brought forth the aural artifacts on these two discs. Titled Joe's Corsage and Joe's Domage, they are the first in what promises to be a long series of obscure and bizarre recordings made by Zappa, who passed away in 1993. And while their titles allude to Zappa's 1979 Joe's Garage albums, neither disc contains material related to those releases; the Joe referred to is Zappa family archivist Joe Travers.
Joe's Corsage is a 35-minute collection of demos and live tapes made prior to the 1966 release of Freak Out, the debut record from Zappa and the Mothers of Invention. History recounts that, in the mid Sixties, the young Zappa took charge of a run-of-the-mill bar band called the Soul Giants and transformed it into the freakiest bunch of unkempt, atonal misfits Los Angeles – or the world, for that matter – had seen or heard. The tracks on Joe's Corsage offer a glimpse of that transformation taking place. Early demos of Freak Out classics "Anyway the Wind Blows," "Go Cry on Somebody Else's Shoulder" and "How Could I Be Such a Fool?" convey a sense of Zappa's deep r&b roots. They also capture a moment in time before he had discovered how to use Dadaist absurdity to put an ironic spin on such material.
Compared to the reverb-heavy orchestrations on Freak Out, the sound on these recordings is stripped and spare. A few of the selections demonstrate Zappa's lifelong penchant for endlessly revamping and recontextualizing his compositions. The early version of "Plastic People" included here is a much more direct parody of "Louie Louie" than the version that later surfaced on Absolutely Free. Another revelation: the song many Zappa fans treasure as "Take Your Clothes Off When You Dance" started life as a mundane love ballad called "I'm So Happy I Could Cry."
Joe's Corsage also includes a live recording of an early Mothers bar gig, which affords the strange thrill of hearing Zappa pay his dues by playing covers like Marvin Gaye's "Hitch Hike" and the Righteous Brothers' "My Babe." Who knew Frank could be so normal? Here and elsewhere on the disc, however, glimmers of Zappa's six-string brilliance shine through.
Joe's Domage is a different animal entirely. Its source is a rehearsal cassette from Zappa's inspired 1972 period, on which he can be heard leading a large, highly disciplined, brass-heavy ensemble through the superb Grand Wazoo and Waka/Jawaka albums. This lo-fi document is filled with moments of tedium and stumbling musicianship that will be familiar to anyone who has endured band practice. But the listener is nonetheless drawn in as Zappa runs down complex horn arrangements with the band, counting tricky time signatures, calling out each note, often playing each line on guitar and demonstrating how the lines combine in chord voicings. It yields some fascinating insights into Zappa as both an arranger and a cordial and patient, but strictly business, bandleader.
The rehearsal mainly centers around three songs: "It Just Might Be a One-Shot Deal," "Blessed Relief' and the "Grand Wazoo." Lovers of the latter composition might be surprised to learn it once had lyrics. Mostly, the band goes over three, or four-bar passages, again and again. No complete performances are presented here, although "Blessed Relief' gets a fairly full run-through, one that is a little heavier than the sunny, Neal Hefti-esque album version and graced with a ripping Zappa guitar solo. If you're familiar with the albums that resulted from these sessions – or if you've just fantasized about playing in Zappa's band – Joe's Corsage and Joe's Domage will be of interest to you.