Published on Sep 26, 2005
I have no proof to back me up, but somewhere in the back of my
mind, I tend to think that Frank Zappa began to get nostalgic about
his career during the final years of his life.
After all, what other purpose would there be to releasing
Playground Psychotics, a compilation of general goofing off
and occasional music featuring the third incarnation of the Mothers
Of Invention – i.e., the “Flo & Eddie” years – some 20 years
after they disbanded? A closet-cleaner by anyone’s standards, this
set is designed pure and simple for diehard Zappa fans only,
especially those whose favorite point in the band’s history
included “Flo & Eddie” and
200 Motels.
The tape recordings Zappa made of
non sequitur band conversations was, I suppose, meant to be
a peek into the humdrum life of a touring rock band, and how life
on the road could not only be weird, but dull as hell. In that last
regard, Zappa succeeds, as the conversations drone on and on,
making the listener wish they all would just shut up. There is very
little humor heard in the conversations, most of which seem to be
jokes that only the band members would get. Sitting through these
conversations reminded me of the added-on film excerpts on the
Uncle Meat soundtrack – namely, they were pointless,
meandering and mind-numbingly boring.
“Boy,” I thought, “this disc couldn’t possibly get worse.” I was
wrong.
Also included for the listener’s benefit (?) are tracks that
Zappa recorded with John Lennon and Yoko Ono. If they were merely
pointless like “Scumbag” was, it wouldn’t have been so bad. But the
aptly titled “A Small Eternity With Yoko Ono” made me want to claw
my eardrums out. I have a short list of people who should, under
federal law, never be allowed to sing again. Yoko Ono is damn near
the top of that list.
In all of the pointless conversation,
Playground Psychotics‘s music does tend to get lost. And
while I can’t say we needed a second version of “Billy The
Mountain” littering our speakers (at 30 minutes, for God’s sake),
there are some performances that do try to pull this disc out of
the cesspool. Live versions of “Mom & Dad,” “Wonderful Wino”
and “Concentration Moon” do add some well-needed color to the
walls, but not nearly enough to save this set.
Had Zappa made one disc pure conversations and one disc
performances, at least you’d be able to isolate the moments that
make
Playground Psychotics worth your time. Instead, this one
rates as one of the poorest in Zappa’s vast discography, and is
recommended for only the true diehard fans.
2005 Christopher Thelen and “The Daily Vault.” All rights
reserved. Review or any portion may not be reproduced without
written permission. Cover art is the intellectual property of the
Zappa Family Trust / record label, and is used for informational
purposes only.