by Nigey Lennon
Debate on the topic of Frank Zappa as Serious Composer is pointless. That there is a degree of presumption in his orchestral works is undeniable; but even the staunchest Zappa detractor has to admit that some of his endeavor in this area are entirely successful on their own terms. For what it’s worth, I have always felt that Frank’s biggest weakness was also his greatest strength — his lack of formal training. His sneering at ‘the academy’ always seemed to have a tinge of wistfulness in it, as though he might as well sneer, since ‘they’ were never going to accept him anyway. His who-gives-a-fuck iconoclasm relegated him to the position of outcast and joker, and at the same time probably caused him to be victimized by his own penchant for detail rather than developing a more expansive philosophy, musical and otherwise (which was tragic, considering the breadth of his intellect). On the other hand, the absence of academic protocols and formalistic straitjacketing in his thinking was precisely what enabled him to formulate his own musical universe. Listening to THE YELLOW SHARK, I am saddened by the fact that Frank’s life and output were cut short just when his work was showing so many signs of enlarging into something with much more emotional depth. (As this book went to press, his posthumous work “Civilization: Phaze III” was about to be released, but I hadn’t yet heard it and could not pass judgment.) Had he lived and worked for a few more decades, he might have created music as monumental in its own way as Bartòk’s; he certainly had the potential. But the enormous body of work he left behind contains so many high points that the whole issue of what he could have accomplished is just as pointless as whether or not he should be considered a ‘serious’ composer. He took it seriously, and the music reflects that fact. Whatever the verdict of posterity (which has certainly never been known for a fine degree of discernment), Frank Zappa’s music both defined and spoke for a generation during a critical period in human history. I am convinced it will continue to speak for future generations...if anyone is still around to listen.
Set in Italian Old Style with LoType headlines. Approximately 2,000 copies on acid-free paper were printed at McNaughton and Gunn, Saline, Michigan.
Author’s Update: Death by Nostalgia
“I’ve also talked about the End of the World being a question of whether it’s going to be by fire, ice, paperwork or nostalgia. And there’s a good chance that it’s going to be nostalgia because the distance between the event and the nostalgia for the event has gotten shorter and shorter and shorter with each nostalgia cycle. So, projecting into the future, you could get to a point where you would take a step ... and be so nostalgic for that step you just took that you would literally freeze in your tracks to experience the nostalgia of the last step, or the last word, or your last whatever. The world just comes to a halt — remembering.”
— Frank Zappa in an interview with Bob Marshall, 1988
At this writing, it has been almost exactly nine years since Frank Zappa shuffled his mortal coil (he always did love the blues) and about seven and a half years since Being Frank was originally published. I am still amused by the occasional reader who accuses me of having fabricated my story. If I could compose that sort of fiction, I wouldn’t be struggling along writing memoirs.
In the intervening semi-decade much has changed, and much has not. There is still a Bush in the White House and war in the Middle East. The economy is lousy. Religious fanatics proliferate, and racism is, unfortunately, still very much with us.
On the FZ front, several new books on Frank’s life and music have been published; various former Zappa band members have released music of their own, and public performances of Zappa music have continued, though to a decreasing audience; the pipeline of FZ musical releases has slowed to less than a trickle; and overall, the outside world has gradually begun to forget who Frank Zappa was, if in fact they ever knew, or wanted to know.
Perhaps this is what Frank Zappa intended, perhaps not. Despite his sometimes megalomaniacal posturings, he didn’t see himself as a hero or a savior, just as a guy who spoke his mind bluntly about the ways of the world, wrote some music, and played some guitar solos, Evidently he had mixed feelings about his musical legacy, or there might be more of it available posthumously. Maybe he felt that no one but himself was qualified to make value judgments about his music. Maybe he was repulsed by the idea of a bunch of rapidly aging fans sitting around in rock ‘n roll clothes listening raptly to his music and mumbling about the good old days. We wish there were more music forthcoming from the vast hoard he left behind, but we aren’t holding our breath.
At any rate, he is still missed by some of us, nostalgically or otherwise.
— N.L.
