THE BIZARRE WORLD OF FRANK ZAPPA
VENUE the Palladium, london DATE 14/05/19
The experts and purists are up in arms about this occasion, ignoring the fact that, as Ahmet Zappa pointed out in Prog 98, Frank himself had mused over such a thing happening in The Real Frank Zappa Book (Chapter 18 if you’re looking).
This writer kind of gets it, being sometimes in two minds about the whole ‘hologram tour’ thing. Maybe it’s because this correspondent isn’t a Zappa obsessive that our curiosity was piqued – we like the man’s music of course, but hardly fall under the ‘acolyte’ category. Had this been, say, Yes with a holographic Chris Squire, then it might have been a very different story.
But the main thing from this evening is that it’s not really a hologram show. Sure, there’s a hologram of Frank, which is initially somewhat disconcerting as it appears before you, talking and playing guitar on Cosmik Debris. But it only appears for three other songs, namely Apostrophe, set closer Dirty
Love and the final encore, by which time you have gotten quite used to seeing him – classic 70s-looking Frank, with trademark Gibson SG and flared jeans.
The remainder is a stunning audio visual presentation; Trouble Every Day, the set’s earliest song from 1966’s Freak Out, is accompanied by an ever-increasing montage of newspaper headlines, Penguin In Bondage a hilariously animated, sexually charged routine, and The
Evil Prince an exhilarating parade of claymation.
To either side of the hologram set-up are Frank’s band, led by musical director Mike Keneally. And these guys are, as one might expect, super-tight in their delivery. Although most of the music – the bulk from 1973’s OverNite Sensation and ’74’s Apostrophe (’), is known – Keneally announces Father O’Blivion as a new piece that threads different musical pieces such as Greggery Peccary and Be-Bop Tango together as Frank once intended. It draws whoops and hollers from an increasingly ecstatic crowd.
A rousing Dirty Love ends the set, after which Frank’s children Ahmet and Diva appear. It’s Ahmet’s birthday and there’s cake and silliness, and a ramshackle cover of Dead Girls Of London, one of Zappa Jr’s favourite Frank songs. It’s all a little unnecessary, but the band dutifully play along with their paymasters before they get to hit their stride once more for Cheepnis and a closing Camarillo Brillo, Frank’s holographic image back for one last time.
As an event, the show is totally enjoyable, this writer in particular coming away with a heightened admiration for Zappa’s unique talent. A visual feast and celebration of a musical genius. Although even that’s probably not enough to assuage the naysayers. Their loss.
“A VISUAL FEAST AND CELEBRATION OF A MUSICAL
GENIUS.”