Something tells me that, if you look up the word “enigma” in the
dictionary in a decade or so, you’ll see Frank Zappa’s picture next
to the definition.
There is no simple way to explain Zappa’s musical
idiosyncracies, as he jumps from jazz to free-form improvisational
to doo-wop, often within the course of the same song. There is no
way to explain why, in the midst of the brief period of Zappa’s
commercial success in 1973 and 1974, that he would record and
release an album like
Roxy And Elsewhere, a two-record set featuring none of the
songs that were garnering him some well-deserved attention.
That all being said,
Roxy And Elsewhere — which, as its name suggests, was
recorded in a small variety of different locations in concert — is
a pleasing disc, even if you have to have a certain knowledge of
Zappa’s work before you can truly appreciate this release.
Sometimes, you just have to let the music overtake you, track
timings be damned. Such is the case with the set of music that
makes up “Village Of The Sun,” “Echidna’s Arf (Of You)” and “Don’t
You Ever Wash That Thing?”. Sure, you could sit there with a
stopwatch and try to figure out the exact moment one song ends and
another begins, but that would be missing the whole point of the
music. If anything, the fact that these tracks blend together so
well stand as a testament to Zappa’s musical legacy, creating works
that not only had a chemistry between them, but were also
interchangable — yet never losing that mystique about them.
Yet there are times when it’s obvious that Zappa was as much a
performance artist as he was a musician. While I enjoy the track
“Be-Bop Tango (Of The Old Jazzmen’s Church),” hearing the dialogue
about the improvisational dancing happening on stage makes me wish
that I could actually see the lunacy that was being inspired by the
scat singing and keyboards of George Duke. As merely an audio
track, something is lost in the translation.
Likewise, I recognize that
Roxy And Elsewhere was released originally on vinyl, and
there were limitations to records which allowed only a certain
amount of music to be pressed onto a side. But I still can’t help
wishing that I was able to hear “More Trouble Every Day” — a track
originally from
Freak Out! — in its entirety, without having it fade out in
what I can only guess is the final verse.
Yet
Roxy And Elsewhere has its own unique treasures. “Penguin In
Bondage” has never sounded better than it does on this release, and
you can’t help but laugh at “Dummy Up,” featuring Napoleon Murphy
Brock discovering the, aah, “uselessness” of a college degree.
Neophytes to Zappa’s vast discography will undoubtedly listen to
Roxy And Elsewhere and walk away confused. Admittedly, this
is not the place to start discovering Zappa’s musical quirks – but
once you’re somewhat comfortable in Zappa’s world,
Roxy And Elsewhere proves to be a nice place to crash for an
hour or so.
