Dweezil Zappa and Frank Zappa

Dweezil Zappa and Frank Zappa

A few weeks ago, apropos of nothing at all, I got an email from my friend Sarah in Chicago: “I volunteered at Summer Camp Music Festival last weekend. Dweezil plays Frank was soooooooooooo good. Best show that I saw.”

Me and Sars have been discussing and sharing music for nigh unto two decades now, and neither of us has ever ventured much into Zappa territory. She’s a musician who’s always had a keen ear for performance and composition, so I asked her what she liked so much about it, both because I wanted some fresh insight into Zappa from a trusted source and because I thought I could trick her into writing a blog post for me. Boy, did I ever! This is what she said about the show:

“I had heard through my Frank Zappa aficionado friend that the music of Zappa Plays Zappa shows is often heavily stylized. The Purist seemed almost offended by the blasphemy of Dweezil and the gang’s misrenderings when I talked to him before the ZpZ show.

To tell you the truth, the weekend had kind of been a let-down for me. I think I was tired of jam bands by the time the ZpZ show rolled around. I guess you pretty much just have to be on drugs to jam for 3 days straight. The dirt, teenagers, mediocrity, guitar solos, heat, dumb tattoos, body paint, listlessness, orange peels, bad trips, nipples, save the planet tents, and shitty Pabst Blue Ribbon. This whole event’s weird disconnect with reality became more and more jarring with every passing note.

But ZpZ made it all worth it.

In the midst of all of this noodling and myopic meglomanical spaced-out ditziness, the ZpZ show was an incredible oasis of stellar songwriting, clever, sarcastic lyrics, killer musicianship, and stunning showmanship. Clear flowing water of purpose in the middle of the tossed sands of the desert. The lyrics grabbed my face and shook shook shook it until I LOLed. All of the rest of the music of the weekend seemed a pale soundtrack for tripping while ZpZ took my breath away all by itself. Zappa’s s lyrics about trixified hippie wannabes made me feel smug about not doing drugs for the first time that whole weekend. Yep. Me and Frank Zappa. We don’t need it.

But no one else really seemed that excited about the show. [Ed. note: and yet Sarah was able to post this video. Contradiction? Hypocrisy? Does this call into question her entire account?!] I didn’t understand. It was so different than anything else I had heard that weekend. Or maybe I just wanted to fancy myself the heroic lone star composition-craft-appreciateur in a sea of varying shades of improv. The quick changes. Laughing at Ben Thomas’s renderings! [Ed. note: looks like he will be at Fuji as well] It was perfect in that moment! The breaks into complete and seemingly uncontrolled aural chaos – totally intentional the whole time. Yet it all manages to be melodic. The drawing from traditional blues chords; the moments of pure funk. This band IS TIGHT. The musicians had to be trained like orchestra players for this complicated shit. Sure, Dweezil and Jamie Kime can solo…. but the mastery; along with the breath and flow. The marimba was amazing. The most complex “fuck you” I’ve ever heard. Love the utilization of lack of sound in Zappa songs. The open spaces between the notes. And as I mentioned, the tempo changes and odd chord progressions really made me pay attention.

And as to whether or not they were playing Frank Zappa authentically, I don’t know and does it matter…? It didn’t to me. It was a happy show. The musicians were having fun and laughing – and that is what music should be about….”

Zappa Plays Zappa plays Friday afternoon at Orange Court. You could try to recreate Sarah’s experience by spending the early afternoon at Field Of Heaven, but I doubt seeing just two jam bands before Zappa will have the same effect, although you should have no trouble avoiding drugs. You and me and Japan, Frank!

-Kern and Sarah Mitchell

(Watch for Sarah’s next contribution to this blog, in which she explains the joys and pains of being a festival trash sorter).