On Practicing Guitar

The first I ever heard of Frank Zappa was when he was name-checked in the 1972 Deep Purple anthem, “Smoke on the Water.” There was already a little bit of a backlash building against the song in the mid-seventies, but to my ears, I just wanted to know who this guy was who was so cool that he’s a character in this heavy story about a flare gun getting in the way of making an album. Zappa’s name alone spoke volumes to me. It was mythical.

The Frank Zappa documentary Eat That Question: Frank Zappa in his Own Words explores some of the political and philosophical side of this extraordinary musician and composer while mostly leaving out the elements that made him so attractive to his audience, namely his confrontational music and his unassailable and highly original image. Frank Zappa didn’t need drugs, as we all know. His music and lifestyle were already drenched in sex and a completely honest resistance to conformity – possibly the very definition of rock and roll.

“Zappa was an early example of a brand of celebrity in which notoriety overshadowed professional accomplishment,” Neil Genzlinger writes in the New York Times, pointing to Zappa’s quote in the film: “I’m famous,” Zappa says, “but most people don’t even know what I do.” Unfortunately, in his later career, Zappa did make headlines around his squabbles with record companies, the PMRC and perhaps other issues, and the film leaves us with a bit of an impression of a talking head kind of experience and character. But it’s a stretch to question Zappa’s professional accomplishment. He made dozens of successful albums and toured widely to sellout crowds at home and abroad.

One idea that Eat That Question bring across very well is that there’s a heck of a lot to know about Frank Zappa. A revealing documentary could be made just about his struggles to get his modern classical works performed properly in the U.S. Apparently, they were much more positively received in Europe. But ultimately one of the things that the movie enlightened me about was why I lost interest in Zappa in the eighties. His complaints about his record label, censorship, and at the same time his increasingly targeted satires like “Dancing Fool,” and “Valley Girl” and self-indulgent guitar extravaganzas like Shut Up and Play Yer Guitar paled in comparison to the music that attracted me in the first place. In that sense, the movie brought me back in touch with a part of my life that I had long forgotten about – my disappointment with the early eighties music scene, and "my period where I hated everything,” as I later referred to it.

One of my favorite Zappa tunes: Apostrophe

The Zappa I remember best played outrageous shows on Christmas and Halloween, where Adrian Belew was wearing a dress. Zappa did play ferocious guitar solos, including when he played a guitar that had been owned and burned by Jimi Hendrix. It sounded a bit thinner than Zappa’s SG, but in FZ’s hands is was perfect, an exotic, pure, twangy sound. The band of course was big and spectacular in their talent and execution. But most of all it was entertaining. The movie only gets close to this side of Zappa during one scene. While speak/singing the words to one of his satirical numbers, he goes to the lip of the stage and beyond, shaking people’s hands, looking at little offerings they’re trying to give him, totally enjoying himself. All the while, he doesn’t miss a word or a beat. He was a master and he brought it to the people.

It's true that Eat That Question only promises a certain facet of FZ – his interviews. But I don’t buy that he was such a tough interview. Who sits there and patiently answers questions while they are dying of cancer? Nonetheless, the movie is essential viewing for Zappa fans. A better representation of his music would have given more to the neophytes. But his sense of humor is proudly on display and the scope of his achievement is evident. I’d see it again. -Chris Botta