69. The Mothers of Invention - Freak Out! (June 1966)

1. Hungry Freaks, Daddy

2. I Ain't Got No Heart

3. Who Are the Brain Police?

4. Go Cry on Somebody Else's Shoulder

5. Motherly Love

6. How Could I Be Such a Fool?

7. Wowie Zowie*

8. You Didn't Try to Call Me

9. Any Way the Wind Blows

10. I'm Not Satisfied

11. You're Probably Wondering Why I'm Here

12. Trouble Every Day*

13. Help I'm a Rock (A Suite in Three Movements)*

- I. Okay to Tap Dance

- II. In Memoriam, Edgar Varese

- III. It Can't Happen Here

14. The Return of the Son of Monster Magnet

- I. Ritual Dance of the Child-Killer

- II. Nullis Pretii (No Commercial Potential)

A

Where to begin? Really, this is a bizarre and monumental album. Luckily, while time has not diluted its strangeness, it's also a pretty accessible one. The album is frontloaded with pop and rock parodies, so the first disc is in a lot of ways a comedy party album. True, "Hungry Freaks, Daddy" takes no prisoners, and is a scathing critique of the vacuousness of modern America. And really, that's what the whole album is about - a sustained attack on the homogenised, moronic state of affairs in the mid-1960s, when it was obvious to everyone that something had to change but no-one was really sure of how. Which might make this sound like a chore, but thankfully Frank Zappa can be very funny when he wants to be. Just look at "Motherly Love", which leans into the ambiguity of its title while sending-up songs about bands getting laid. Or there's the delightful "Wowie Zowie", with its line "I don't even care if you don't shave your legs!", which sounds like something Johnny Karate might have written. And "Go Cry on Somebody Else's Shoulder" could be a 1950s pop-rock standard, if not for the overblown and self-parodying style in which it's written. 

None of which does justice to the strangeness of the music. The first half of the album is anchored in and comments upon rock conventions, but it also features odd guitar choices, bizarre multi-layered vocals and frequent intrusions by instruments like bells and what I think is a kazoo. "Who Are the Brain Police?" is a song so odd that by the end of it your brain feels like it's melted like the chrome and plastic mentioned in the lyrics. 

Things get really weird, however, on the second disc; which in a lot of ways might as well be a different album. Things kick of in a sort of normal way with "Trouble Every Day", easily the best song on the album and one of the best pieces of social commentary in music I've ever heard. This is a driving blues rocker that starts with the narrator watching the Watts Riots on TV and gradually spirals out into a biting commentary on everything from racial violence to capitalism trapping people in menial jobs and the general state of America in 1966. It's also, hilariously, the song that got the band signed - the guy from the record company only heard them play this song, and thought they were a white blues band. And really, the Mothers' facility with this sort of music is such that it's apparent they probably could have had considerable commercial success if they'd stuck to it. As it is, it sort of stands in the middle of the album as proof that the Mothers weren't just a bunch of atonal weirdos, but could crank out genuinely catchy and well-constructed songs with highly intelligent lyrics. They just had grander ambitions.

Those ambitions become apparent on the rest of disc two, which is comprised of two experimental suites that make use of sound collages, overdubs, weird timing shifts and repetitive beats. One of the sections is dedicated to experimental music pioneer Edgar Varese. Then again, there are also lyrics about a rock that dreams of becoming a policeman, and dialogues with a woman named Susie Cream Cheese, which really goes to show the commingling of high and low art that defines this record (and, though I'm no expert, would more or less define Frank Zappa's output for years to come). The only real disappointment is that "Return of the Son of Monster Magnet" starts excitingly enough, but never really goes anywhere. Apparently the label pulled the plug halfway through recording it, much to Zappa's chagrin, and this probably explains its unfinished sound. It does, however, stand-out as an obvious precursor to one of my favourite bands, Can - it almost sounds like something off Tago Mago.

What's really great about all of this is that even though Frank Zappa composed all this strange music, he did it without the aid of drugs (unless you count coffee and cigarettes). That probably explains why this music, as strange and crazy as it is, holds up so well today. The title Freak Out! is extremely apt, but this is also very disciplined and carefully constructed music. It's very much music for your mind, which is nice; and rewards repeat listening and careful consideration. At the same time, it's also very funny. And prescient, really. "It Can't Happen Here" features the lyrics "Who would have thought that they would freak out in Kansas? Who would have thought that they would freak out in Minnesota?"

Another thing I'd like to mention before I finish is to do with Zappa's personal politics. I don't know much about the man, but from what I do know he seemed alright. As someone who is very much on the fence about most things politically, it's nice to have someone to look up to who had an equal distrust of both the counterculture and the conservative establishment. The dualism prevalent in political thought is frankly deeply annoying at times, and it's frustrating to feel that you have to sign up for one team or another and then relentlessly tow the line. People should be thinking for themselves, making informed decisions, and not just throwing in their lot with one side or the other out of a desperate need for acceptance. They should also, every now and then, maybe freak out a little.