from the LP Hot Rats, Bizarre Records, 1969Who says a violin can’t rock?!! I’m a huge believer in the “musical breakthrough”, that a-ha moment when a band or musician suddenly makes complete sense to you, or their genius becomes wholly evident in a singular, blazing flash of expansion. As a younger kid I was mostly just aware of Zappa’s late-‘70s/early-‘80s vibe, and though he certainly delivered what was promised, the cynical toilet humor didn’t hold my attention very long. So imagine my utter shock when I was turned on to this track and album by a spirit who was too pure & authentic to be long for this world (rest in peace Brad, we sure miss you down here…). I was aware of Zappa being gifted, or at least hearing people say that, but I never completely understood how complete of a statement that was until I heard this. Without a doubt, this entire LP is indispensable, and most of the other tracks on it ride a tad closer to the jazz side of jazz-rock, showing off his skills as both player and composer impressively; obviously, this song breaks that mold and sounds as if it was plucked out of a gutter or drain-ditch, covered in mud and debris and general funk. The same basic groove is the backbone for all 9+ minutes of this grimy scene, and it allows all the players ample room to stretch out---none more striking and memorable than Frank Zappa’s guitar-playing. The first time I heard this my jaw was on the floor through the entire thing, like I was sure Hendrix had sat in on the session because there was no way this was the same joker responsible for “Valley Girl”! His guitar solo was recorded in one take, and I really can’t say enough good things about it, so I’ll just stop now. Down-home violin riffing care of Don ‘Sugercane’ Harris, mad tight breakbeat, odd percussive flourishes throughout, and extra bonus points for the Captain Beefheart vocals---like Howlin’ Wolf meets Wolfman Jack: “…standin’ on the porch of the Lido Hotel, floozies in the lobby love the way I smell; hot meat, hot rats, hot cats, hot grits, hot boots, hot suits…{yelling and yowling}” If you’re an avowed hater, but haven’t explored Zappa much, I implore you to suppress what you think you know and let this song do the convincing.
