Frank Zappa's Yellow Shark: Si j'arrive à distinguer la merde du cirage

OK, all you Zappa heads out there in the audience. I can recognize you a mile away because of the all the midriff bulge, the surfeit of facial hair and that “show me” scowl on your faces. I just hope you’ve not already been served for illegally making your own unlicensed “Burnt Weeny Sandwich” tee shirts.

We the Los Angeles Friggin’ Fantastic Filharmonic are going to play some of your favorite chest nutz. No, not Hot Rats, and not Willie the Pimp. We are purists, and just as we would never countenance Monteverdi without real sackbuts, none of us would presume to palm off a golden oldie Zappa without doing it on the original instruments. Whaddya, think we’re not historically informed?

So instead we’re doing the hardass, ballbusting “classical” Zappa, entre autres, “The Girl in the Magnesium Dress.” Here you got your Uncle Frank doing the musical equivalent of action painting, hurling gobs of notes at the page and seeing where they stick. Yeow. Ruin our Thanksgiving Day, I tell ya. Gotta rehearse like fiends to fit every 32nd note into that fussy grid. It’s like Extreme Pinball.

Ah, but the timbres are super—all dazzling, hard-edged and brilliant. The ensemble for “The Girl” is pure magnesium. Total Pierre. Check out that cimbalom. And a mandolin and classical geetar! Un éclat of shattering crystal. A regular explosante-fixe in a glass factory.

And then you have your tourist song, “Questi Cazzi di Piccione” for five string players, something that uses every imaginable avant garde technique—well, almost. Got them plucking and scraping and knocking and trilling all over the fingerboard.

Now, I don’t have to tell you knowledgeable Ph. D’s in Zappa studies what the title “Questi Cazzi di Piccione” means. Nonetheless, may I quote the composer (without fear of being chased down the street for copyright infringement by a guy with a briefcase and tassle loafers)?

Sez Uncle Francesco: “If you’ve ever been to Venice, well, instead of trees, they have pigeons, and pigeon by-products. Which is probably one of the reasons why the town is sinking.”

Next up is “Ruth is Sleeping” for two exceptionally lovely pianists, Joanne and Viki. I have offered to turn pages, but they’ve regrettably declined my services.

And finally we got your user-friendly Zappa, guaranteed to coax a chuckle out of your grim countenances. We’ll open with a piece that is closer to my heart than the William Tell Overture or Bolero: “The Dog Breath Variations.” This is music composed in the days long before some very creative veterinarians dreamed up the concept of canine dental hygiene. I dedicate this performance to the memory of my old German Shorthair, Calvin, who had enough bacteria in his mouth to scare off the plague.

“Dog Breath” segues attacca into “Uncle Meat.” (Lo stesso tempo for you thesis candidates out there.) We understand that this piece is alarmingly non-PC. There is a vegan version available from Zappa’s publisher, Barfco Swill Productions, but we are going to hang tough and do it in the original version.

Alors, le plus scandaleux reste à faire: the treat you’ve all been waiting for, the glamorous, thrill-a-second, super virtuoso “G-Spot Tornado.” We’re going to make it even more difficult by playing it ONLY on our G-strings. What a way to end the concert! Snap ALL those straps and wail on that tam tam. Go for it, Z-fans.