Frank Zappa – Sheik Yerbouti (1979)
Zappa is like a very itchy wound. Unfortunately, I can't help scratching it, and too often it becomes poisonous, and leaves me feeling worse and a little grubby. But sometimes it's very satisfying.
I have history with this album, having previously owned it on double cassette. I picked it up from a short lived second hand record shop in Deal, owned by a chap whom I uncharitably knew as 'Harry the Robber'.
The name stemmed from the one time I carted about 50 LPs which I never listened to to his shop to sell / part exchange, and he offered me an insulting amount knowing I'd probably accept because I didn't fancy lugging them back home again. He raised that amount to derisory for part exchange and I bought a couple of LPs (can't remember what) and the double cassette of this Zappa album. I lost one of the cassettes a few weeks later when my car was broken into and the radio stolen, and probably ended up binning the other, as the left behind tape would always remind me of the pain of the event.
The album consists of material recorded live during 1977 and 1978, and later overdubbed, so it consists of many crowd pleasers. If you can imagine what would please a Zappa audience in the late 1970s, and would certainly have delighted the teenage me, you've got the level. It is, as you'd anticipate, a superbly tight performance throughout, with virtuoso playing by all involved.
So, one vinyl / cassette side at a time. The first quarter kicks off with I Have Been In You, a parody of Peter Frampton's hit I'm In You, taken to its graphic extreme and devoid of humour. Flakes is a little more tolerable, with a quite amusing Dylan impersonation by Adrian Belew, while Broken Hearts Are For Assholes is as awful and crude as the title suggests. Other tracks are instantly forgettable.
The second quarter opens with the best thing so far, a guitar instrumental cut from a performance of The Torture Never Stops, entitled Rat Tomango. Bobby Brown purports to poke fun at the frat boys, but is a crude homophobic attack, Zappa not being shy to punch down. However, this section is redeemed by a couple of instrumentals, the bass led Rubber Shirt, and a guitar solo, The Sheik Yetbouti soundtrack.
Past halfway now, and perhaps there's some hope for this album. The third side gives us the brief Baby Snakes, quite a likeable little song, the forgettable Tryin' To Grow A Chin, the rather excellent City Of Tiny Lights, followed by the US hit single, which I recall received much radio airplay in UK, the genuinely funny and clever disco parody Dancin' Fool. And just when I'm thinking that this album might be redeemable, we have the execrable Jewish Princess, at the time condemned as anti-Semitic, but I tend to find Zappa's misogyny stands out more proudly here.
Let's suffer this no more and head to the final side. Only two tracks here, the faux operatic Wild Love, and the extended Yo' Mama, a sadly pathetic lyrical song to the sad loner (punching down again, Frank?) but one with a haunting melody, which bookends a long guitar solo.
It's an album where we see both sides of Zappa, the virtuoso musician and composer, as well as the cruel lyricist happy to poke fun at the little people more for his own amusement than with any satirical intent. I suspect in this project, Zappa's instrumental albums are going to come out on top. This one has some very enjoyable bits, and some bits that make me cringe, especially to think I enjoyed them 30 years ago.
2* - too much feels unlistenable, but there are some little oases of enjoyable music here.
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