In the early 70s, I first experienced Captain Beefheart and the Magic Band, and their own interpretation of music, thanks to a couple of albums my brother owned. In all fairness, try as I might, I simply did not “get it.” I was raised on straightforward rock and roll, and, although I was a casual Frank Zappa-listener, Beefheart’s ideas were sensory overload for me. Years on, I have learned to appreciate the band’s own style of against-the-grain avant-garde mayhem. To best appreciate Beefheart’s music, you have to understand “the code.” In other words, familiarize yourself with a style of music that, despite its jazz and blues roots, still sounds unlike anything you have ever heard before. Beefheart did not write songs in a standard verse-chorus method, nor did he use typical instrumental tunings, nor did it often make sense. Trout Mask Replica, Captain Beefheart and the Magic Band’s third album, was produced by Zappa, who told them to do whatever they felt like doing. And that they did and continued to do throughout their brief career.
The fanatical diehard fans of Captain Beef heart will be chomping at the bit to get their hands on Harpo’s Detroit Dec. 11, 1980. The production quality of these 20 tracks is in the neighborhood of “boombox-bootleg,” but the clarity level is crisp enough to fully hear what is going on. There is no high-polish gloss here; you can hear all the creeks and nuances one would hear in an actual live venue. You can all but smell the stinky cigarettes and stale beer. That is what works for this style of music. After all, these cuts are far from commercial-pop, radio-friendly “hits”.
If you are expecting a track-by-track rundown, well, it won’t work that easy. As much I would love to delve into each track, this music has to actually be heard and interpreted by the listener as to what he or she actually hears. The tracks are a wide range of odd-tuned guitars, violins, percussion, and whatever may be at the musicians’ fingertips. Like clouds, what one may hear within the realms of each composition, another listener will hear something else. Titles such as “Abba Babba,” “Dr. Dark” and “Sugar And Spikes” explain the odd approach to every song, with each one resulting in a mixing pot of bizarreness equal to its name. One may wonder: Is the good ol’ Captain singing? Is he preaching? Mumbling? His voice sounds seasoned, raw and gin-soaked, both inspiring and wise.
Harpo’s Detroit Dec. 11, 1980 is for the die-hard fan, salivating to get their hands on anything from the late great Captain Beefheart. The casual listener will probably not “get it,” as I did so many years ago. This is something for writers, poets, musicians, and eccentrics who would appreciate the art that this music truly is. It’s like stepping into the Adams Family house with trinkets and oddities abound. It all may take a little getting used to, but when you do, it clicks and the bulb comes on. And, of course, there is only one true way to appreciate listening to this. You have to be, shall we say, in the “right mood.” Take that suggestion whichever way you wish…
~ Bruce Forrest
