Published on May 30, 1999
The first real exposure I had to Frank Zappa’s music — with the
exception of riding in a high school friend’s car, when I was too
young and stupid to appreciate what I was hearing — was thanks to
a Chicago disc jockey a few years ago who played the extended mix
of “Dancin’ Fool” as a tribute to 1979. I was hooked instantly, and
searched out the album —
Sheik Yerbouti — that had the song in question.
Unfortunately, the version I heard was only available as a promo
disc; I found it back in 1995, and paid the shop owner $20 in blood
money… but it was worth every penny. Unfortunately for me, I got
into Zappa’s music in the period when he was dying of prostate
cancer, so the discovery process into his music was quite
bittersweet.
It’s been 20 years since this album came out, and about five or
six years since I fell in love with it. Through all that time, two
things remain crystal clear about it. First, it’s an album that’s
not for the easily offended; second, it’s arguably Zappa’s best
work.
Released after the fracas with Warner Brothers over the proposed
Lather set (which was released legally for the first time a
couple of years ago) and incorporating snippets from that
collection,
Sheik Yerbouti is irreverent, filled with sexual innuendo,
and contains some of the best goddamn playing you will ever hope to
hear blaring from your speakers.
Quick, put on the disc now, and skip to the track “Rat Tomago.”
A guitar solo lifted from a performance of “The Torture Never
Stops” (I can tell from hearing the orgasmic cries of a woman in
the background at the start of the song), Zappa whips out a
performance that truly describes what a guitar solo is. Part
showmanship, part free-form improvisation, part madman, Zappa lays
down a five-minute piece of tape that is the guitar in its most
primordial form. I honestly don’t think that any performance off of
either
Shut Up And Play Yer Guitar or
Guitar match the raw emotion heard on this track.
Right from the start of
Sheik Yerbouti, you can tell this is going to be a fun trip
without the seatbelt. The first three tracks — “I Have Been In
You” (a pimp-slap against the popular Peter Frampton album
I’m In You from that time), “Flakes” and “Broken Hearts Are
For Assholes” — lays everything on the anvil, and wails away with
the sledgehammers. Granted, Zappa’s pension for layering his vocals
is clearly evident many times, but it almost gives a surreal
feeling to the performances to hear them not sync up — and knowing
how much of a perfectionist Zappa was, it had to have been done on
purpose.
This isn’t to say that
Sheik Yerbouti is a smooth ride. Zappa got in trouble for
the song “Jewish Princess,” and some of the lyrics, while funny,
could be construed as offensive, especially to those who could not
appreciate the type of humor that Zappa had. Likewise, “Bobby Brown
Goes Down” has some content that would make people blush, but this
song holds a special place in my heart — possibly because I once
had a boss by that name who was a real asshole.
Fact is,
Sheik Yerbouti is a solid album from note one to the final
flourish and crowd applause. The musicianship of players like
drummer Terry Bozzio and bassist Patrick O’Hearn shine through on
this album, and Zappa is at his creative, sarcastic best.
Oh, wait — I can’t end the review without talking about
“Dancin’ Fool”, the track that turned me onto Zappa Road in the
beginning. While I was disappointed that the extended mix was
nowhere to be found (and I wonder why, prior to Zappa’s death, he
didn’t choose to tack the extended mix onto this CD), this song is
a great slap in the face to the disco era that was so prevalent in
1979. Still, I’ll always prefer the extended mix, possibly because
it was what I heard first.
I take some pride in the fact that, thanks to some of the Zappa
reviews we’ve done in the past, I’ve helped to get a few readers
interested in this modern-day Varese with a Stratocaster. And any
time someone asked me to recommend an album of Zappa’s to purchase
first, I’ve always been torn between
Hot Rats and
Sheik Yerbouti — but now, I’ve got to give props to
Sheik Yerbouti. It was — and remains — Zappa’s high-water
mark.