Captain Beefheart (Don Vliet) was undoubtedly the creator of the most bizarre and wonderful music. A child prodigy sculptor, he applied his artistic approach to music, creating ‘aural sculptures’. He befriended Frank Zappa in High School, collaborating on a teenage rock opera and sci-fi/fantasy film entitled Captain Beefheart vs The Grunt People. It was from this film that Don took his name. Of course, a magic character had to have a magic band. The Magic Band started out as a blues band in the mid-sixties but soon, with lysergic propulsion, surreal poetry, free-form jazz, polyrhythms and African beats, they were at the forefront of West Coast Acid Rock. A series of hugely inventive albums, including the infamous Trout Mask Replica, established them as the foremost avant-garde rock band with legendary live performances. The author was there for their first concert at Middle Earth and that night changed his life. Few Bands are as influential. The Beatles, The Fall, PJ Harvey and Tom Waits all pay homage, While The Magic Band have inspired a myriad of tribute bands and created a mythology like no other. This book sets the history of the band in context, analysing every track and interpreting the music with its poetic content. It is essential reading for diehard fans and the Beefheart-curious alike.
Captain Beefheart – Every Album, Every Song
Introduction
Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band are probably the weirdest band that ever existed, and possibly the best. Many people have described a gig they attended as life-changing. Few would’ve been as life-changing as my first Captain Beefheart gig.
In 1967 I was 18 years old, supposedly studying for A-levels, but actually undergoing a more serious study of girls, music, Kerouac and the burgeoning underground scene. I was working long shifts through Friday nights at a Lyons bakery, where I met another crazy longhair called Mike. Mike was a little older than me and was seriously into underground music: particularly psychedelia and acid rock. He was a student of English Literature at York University and had the longest hair around: a major credential at the time. He never brushed or combed his hair (believing that it caused split ends), but he ran his fingers through to rid his hair of major tangles. Mike enthused about going to UFO and Middle Earth in London to drop acid and dance all night to bands like Pink Floyd. He was into the West Coast acid rock scene and knew about every band in the Los Angeles/San Francisco area before they’d even released an album. We spent many happy hours sitting in his room, where Mike would fascinate me with the debut albums of The Doors, Country Joe and the Fish, Love and Quicksilver Messenger Service. We were in a world of our own.
Apart from John Peel, who played these jewels on his wonderful late-night radio show Perfumed Garden, no one else seemed to have heard of this treasure trove of music. John Peel championed Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band, claiming they were the best band on the planet. He not only played them on his show but ferried Don and the band around to gigs and introduced them onstage. Peel carried a lot of weight in the underground scene, which is probably why Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band were better known and had more of a following here in Britain, than their native USA.
I first heard Beefheart’s Safe As Milk at Mike’s on the day of its release. To say I was bowled over is an understatement. I was into both the blues and psychedelia, but this seemed to combine the two in a way that blasted your mind and body into atoms. It shook me, and I was hooked. I’d never heard anything like it. By this time I was also going to London underground clubs Middle Earth, UFO, The Roundhouse, The Marquee and Les Cousins. For me it was to see mainly Pink Floyd, Peter Green’s Fleetwood Mac, Jimi Hendrix and Roy Harper. When I heard that Captain Beefheart was going to play at Middle Earth, I was ecstatic. There was only one problem: I was in the midst of my A-level exams. I had been offered a provisional place at university, and needed the grades, but music was more important to me, and besides, my biology exam was a week away. Surely I could afford a night off. High on adrenalin, I drove to London on my trusty motorbike, only to discover that the gig had been postponed. Beefheart’s bassist Jerry Handley was ill, and they’d been replaced by the Aynsley Dunbar Retaliation. Now, I quite liked Aynsley Dunbar, but he was no substitute for Captain Beefheart, who was rescheduled for the following week as a double bill with John Mayall (another favourite of mine). That made it an absolute must.
The gig was now going to be the night before my A-level biology exam. If I went, I wouldn’t be home until 3:00 a.m., and my exam started at 9:00 a.m.. I would have no last-minute revision, and I’d be knackered. Still, needs must. No choice! It was truly one of the best gigs I have ever been to. I can’t remember anything about John Mayall that night, but Beefheart just blew me away! Needless to say, I didn’t get the required grade, and the course of my life changed. However, I’d seen Captain Beefheart in all his glory! I wouldn’t change that even if I could.
The 1960s were a time of liberal views and creativity. Following World War II and the 1950s austerity, a generation of rebellious teenagers emerged. Fired with optimism, confidence and naivety, they sought to throw off the shackles of conformity and break out from the conservatism of their parents’ generation. This was the new age, and young people saw a world of new possibilities, with waves of creativity in fashion, art, writing, dance, architecture and, most of all, music. Social norms were being rejected. There were protests against the Vietnam war, marches for civil rights, a burgeoning spirit of environmentalism, feminism and equality, coupled with a rejection of the establishment. These sparked great social and political change. Young people had a voice, and they wanted to be heard. Minds were opened. Clothes were colourful. Hair was long. Music was loud. The hair, clothes, attitudes and protest weren’t a fashion, they were symbols of a new way of living; an alternative to the establishment.
The underground movement had an impact on the mainstream. Young people were dropping out, departing on adventures to exotic third-world countries and delving into new religions and cultures. They were appreciating the world’s beauty without needing lots of money. At that time of great social change, many young people were convinced there was a better way to live. They were experimenting with communal living, getting back to nature, dropping out of the rat race, opposing the whole money-driven greed and warmongering attitudes. These were attempts at a simpler, better way of life.
Captain Beefheart On Track: Every Album, Every Song – Part of the Intro
Introduction
Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band are probably the weirdest band that ever
existed, and possibly the best. Many people have described a gig they attended
as life-changing. Few would’ve been as life-changing as my first Captain
Beefheart gig.
In 1967 I was 18 years old, supposedly studying for A-levels, but actually
undergoing a more serious study of girls, music, Kerouac and the burgeoning
underground scene. I was working long shifts through Friday nights at a Lyons
bakery, where I met another crazy longhair called Mike. Mike was a little older
than me and was seriously into underground music: particularly psychedelia
and acid rock. He was a student of English Literature at York University and
had the longest hair around: a major credential at the time. He never brushed
or combed his hair (believing that it caused split ends), but he ran his fingers
through to rid his hair of major tangles. Mike enthused about going to UFO
and Middle Earth in London to drop acid and dance all night to bands like Pink
Floyd. He was into the West Coast acid rock scene and knew about every band
in the Los Angeles/San Francisco area before they’d even released an album.
We spent many happy hours sitting in his room, where Mike would fascinate
me with the debut albums of The Doors, Country Joe and the Fish, Love and
Quicksilver Messenger Service. We were in a world of our own.
Apart from John Peel, who played these jewels on his wonderful late-night
radio show Perfumed Garden, no one else seemed to have heard of this
treasure trove of music. John Peel championed Captain Beefheart and his Magic
Band, claiming they were the best band on the planet. He not only played
them on his show but ferried Don and the band around to gigs and introduced
them onstage. Peel carried a lot of weight in the underground scene, which is
probably why Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band were better known and
had more of a following here in Britain than their native USA.
I first heard Beefheart’s Safe As Milk at Mike’s on the day of its release. To
say I was bowled over is an understatement. I was into both the blues and
psychedelia, but this seemed to combine the two in a way that blasted your
mind and body into atoms. It shook me, and I was hooked. I’d never heard
anything like it. By this time, I was also going to London underground clubs
Middle Earth, UFO, The Roundhouse, The Marquee and Les Cousins. For me, it
was to see mainly Pink Floyd, Peter Green’s Fleetwood Mac, Jimi Hendrix and
Roy Harper. When I heard that Captain Beefheart was going to play at Middle
Earth, I was ecstatic. There was only one problem: I was in the midst of my
A-level exams. I had been offered a provisional place at university, and needed
the grades, but music was more important to me, and besides, my biology
exam was a week away. Surely I could afford a night off. High on adrenalin,
I drove to London on my trusty motorbike, only to discover that the gig had
been postponed. Beefheart’s bassist Jerry Handley was ill, and they’d been
replaced by the Aynsley Dunbar Retaliation. Now, I quite liked Aynsley Dunbar,
but he was no substitute for Captain Beefheart, who was rescheduled for the
following week as a double bill with John Mayall (another favourite of mine).
That made it an absolute must.
The gig was now going to be the night before my A-level biology exam.
If I went, I wouldn’t be home until 3:00 a.m., and my exam started at 9:00
a.m.. I would have no last-minute revision, and I’d be knackered. Still, needs
must. No choice! It was truly one of the best gigs I have ever been to. I can’t
remember anything about John Mayall that night, but Beefheart just blew me
away! Needless to say, I didn’t get the required grade, and the course of my
life changed. However, I’d seen Captain Beefheart in all his glory! I wouldn’t
change that even if I could.
1974 – The Travesty of the Tragic Band!
The Travesty of the Tragic Band!
Following the exhilarating, triumphant storming of the country by the superb Magic Band in 1973, I was delighted to see that the good Captain was returning once again to our green and pleasant land in the summer of 1974. With heart still racing, ears ringing and head full of exciting memories I spent much time gabbing wildly to my friends about how good they were! I had played them the albums incessantly without extracting great interest. They simply did not get it. But my enthusiasm must have been extreme and I soon had a bunch of them interested enough to give it a go.
One thing I’ve noticed over the years is that it is the live experience that seems to get people hooked. I can back this up anecdotally. Living out in the sticks I used to have to drive my teenage sons into school every morning. A half hour with a captive audience (it wasn’t all child abuse – I did alternate music occasionally and let them select a tape). I was none too impressed with their chosen listening which seemed to centre on Madonna and Durex Durex and decided to widen their appreciation. Hence they were regaled with the likes of Roy Harper and Captain Beefheart. They remained unimpressed by the good Captain though. It wasn’t until I finally cajoled my younger son to come with me to see the Magic Band live in 2011 that he finally got it. I think that experiencing the power of the band’s performance, being able to actually see the musicians interacting, weaving those intricate patterns and ‘feeling’ the music as a visceral/cerebral explosion forges a unique connection. My son came out of that gig raving about them and rounded up a group of his friends for the next gig, all of whom were also suitably smitten.
That 1960s gig at Middle Earth had switched me on! No looking back. I’d been thoroughly tuned in.
Thus it was that, back in 1974, a cohort of us set off to immerse ourselves in the wonder of Magic at the unlikely venue of Waltham Forest Technical College!
I, of course, buoyed up on expectation, had not done my homework. I had not yet purchased the Unconditionally Guaranteed album (what a strange title for such a substandard record) or I might have had some forewarning. I had not read anything in the music press about how the real Magic Band had walked out shortly before the tour. I was expecting to see a caped Zoot with hair flying, a pogoing Rockette with thundering bass strings, a flailing Drumbo or Ed Marimba spraying out polyrhythms like supersonic confetti and either a Snouffer or Winged Eel intermeshing those steely riffs and slices of super slide with Zoot.
We were confronted with a bunch of unknowns who didn’t even look the part. I was initially bemused and downhearted but the Magic Band had been through personnel changes before and each new carnation had come up trumps. I wasn’t too concerned.
I didn’t know that the new incarnation was a soft rock outfit, drawn from a band called Buckwheat, who were under-rehearsed and unable to perform the jagged, raw-edged music we were craving.
I stood and stared in horror as the softened, smoothed-out arrangements made a mockery of the cliff-edge dynamics and heavy blues groove of the ‘real’ Magic band. These were a bunch of impostors who just could not cut it. They did not have the feel for the music or the expertise to carry it off! As far as I was concerned this was a travesty! They’d transformed the edgy Beefheart numbers into standard rock! Unforgiveable!
However, we did have the Captain with his incredible voice and that was some compensation. He really did seem to be trying his best to pull it together, but then, he needed to. They were pedestrian.
The band played a number of Beefheart classics and managed to pulverise all of them. It felt painful to hear such diamonds reduced to dull pebbles. All the jagged complexity had been ironed out to create a middling boring arrangement that I found hard to accept. These weren’t rock songs! These were songs from the Magic world of Beefheart. To treat them like this was worse than not doing them. The heart had been torn out of them.
I think the final nail in the coffin came with a lame rendition of Sweet Georgia Brown. I mean, Sweet Georgia Brown – hardly a Beefheart-friendly composition. In later years I often wonder how the real Magic Band might have deal with that jazz classic. I imagine they would have injected it with their fire and venom transforming it into something else, bringing it to life – just as they had done with other blues and gospel numbers. I felt like yelling out – ‘Give me that Old Time religion!’
This sent me reeling into depression. Sweet, saccharin and bland. Nothing approaching the raw outrageous, adventurous extremes of the real band, nothing like! I felt embarrassed to have dragged my friends along to this.
I came out feeling deflated, apologising profusely for exposing all my friends to such a travesty. Of course, you guessed it. They thought it was great and were extolling the virtues of a great performance.
A further irony was that it was this hopeless bunch of impostors who were recorded for that inglorious live album – Live In London – that I can’t bear to listen to. Why oh why oh why couldn’t they have properly recorded a live show from the 73 tour? The 68 tour? The bootlegs and live albums that have since surfaced are great but a properly recorded show in all its glory from 1973 or 68? Wow! That would have blown everything away!
As it is The Tragic Band proved to be a blip. The Captain still had a few more gems to pull out of that mysterious bag and future incarnations proved themselves more worthy of the epithet!
As for me – I’m just sad to have witnessed such a fall from grace!
1973 Captain Beefheart gig at Rainbow – Finsbury Park
1973 Captain Beefheart gig at Rainbow – Finsbury Park
Right up there with the greatest gigs I’ve ever been fortunate enough to be part of! Up there with Jimi Hendrix, Son House, Cream, Roy Harper, Led Zep and Pink Floyd. Excitement was palpable!
Quite often when your expectations are high the gig doesn’t live up to expectations. Not in this case. They blew me away.
Having seen the original band at Middle Earth in 1968, which still rates as one of the most exhilarating gigs ever, I went to the Rainbow with heart in mouth.
The Rainbow was just around the corner from where I was living so I strolled around early. The fact that it was seated was a bit of a turn off but we were near the front.
Rockette came out clutching his bass with a long coiled lead. He was wearing what looked like a space helmet. A great cheer went up! He introduced himself – ‘Hello. I’m Rockette Morton’ another great cheer. He then mumbled something about starting with a toast that went straight over my head at the time. I asked Rockette about this on the 2011 tour. He explained that it wasn’t a space helmet at all; it was a big American toaster that he’d pulled open and wore as a hat. That made the toast comment more understandable. Rockette laughingly told me that the band had flown in all wearing their stage garb (probably, given the politics of Don’s rigid leadership, the only clothes they had) and Rockette had worn the toaster helmet as they trooped past a bemused customs man.
Someone yelled out ‘What do you run on Rockette Morton’ and he proceeded to show us. Using his steely fingers to set up the incredible intricate rhythms of the instrumental that started all those 1973 gigs a very fit and wiry Rockette proceeded to pogo around the stage madly like the stage was molten lava. Those laser beans sure had energy!
The rest of the band sloped out behind him and plugged in. I can still picture the tall lanky figure of Zoot Horn Rollo, with long fair hair flowing over his skinny face and voluminous shirt, plugging in his guitar and turning the volume up. Alex Snouffer plugged in and Ed Marimba took his place behind the drums. As the crowd clapped and roared their appreciation of Rockette’s amazing efforts, the band roared in with the instrumental Suction Prints. The guitars weaved their magic as the bass and drums set up a thunderous beat. It plunged and roared through changes of rhythm and tempo as the guitars duelled. Fabulous! I knew we were in for a storming night!
Still no sign of the Captain but towards the end of Suction Prints some harmonica came in.
When the number finished there was a pause. The crowd roared its approval. Atmosphere electric. I was already zooming!
The band started up again with a familiar intro. It was loud! The sound was pounding through my body. The whole audience were melded into a single bouncing body riding those incredible vibrations. Then, impossibly, the Captain’s powerful vocal erupted over the top sending my eardrums pulsating. So loud yet clear. Coming in like a jet plane. It’s funny how your mind plays tricks with you. I would have put my house on that first song being Electricity. It wasn’t until Steve Froy gave me a bootleg of the concert many decades later that I registered that it was in fact Mirrorman.
At the time Don was standing invisibly in the wings as the band projected the force and that astounding voice bellowed over the top Miiiiirrrrrrrroooooooorrrrrrrrrr MMMiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrrooooorrrrrrr!!
Then he strode out as the band launched in and he picked up the vocal. Everything impossibly went to a different level. The excitement surged. Audience and band melded, riding on waves of electricity.
After that it was one great surging blend of intricate polyrhythms, changing tempos, wailing harp, searing, stinging guitar and a driving rhythm section with Don’s voice and poetry roaring over the top. The barrage of sound was physical, the bombardment sending endorphins into overdrive. The visceral thump sending all the cells in my body throbbing in time to the driving beat. This was how rock music should be experienced – the perfect combination of mind and body – fused into one pulsing entity, carried away on a wall of sound, the poetry and dynamics of that voice blending with the complex rhythms of that primitive powerhouse. This was it!
They just kept coming- Low Yo Yo Stuff, Nowadays a Woman, Crazy Little Thing, Sugar and Spikes, Peon, Grow Fins, Abba Zabba, Electricity, Veteran’s Day Poppy, King Bee, Big Eyed Bees From Venus, Golden Birdies. The barrage was relentless! Everything just perfect, powerful, moving. The words resonating; the music brought to life by the power of performance. The whole audience caught up in the fervour of the moment.
You had to be there! The bootlegs are a weak insipid substitute compared to this. In that moment the energy was a tumbling tsunami.
This was it! This was it! Pure joy! I dissolved into the magic of the Magic Band. Nothing surpassed that. Nothing.
My First Captain Beefheart gig + more photos from the 2011 La Scala gig.
To complete the tale of my first Beefheart gig back in the sixties – on the eve of my crucial A-Level exam.
Well I did think about it for a minute or two. My whole future rested on that exam. To go to the gig meant no last-minute revision (the only type I ever did) and going in knackered with a few hours kip. It was a no-brainer. This was the original Beefheart Magic Band – Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band (Alex St. Clair Snouffer, Jerry Handley, Jeff Cotton and John French/Drumbo). A must see.
The atmosphere was electric. The place was heaving. The band on top form. The music pulsated with throbbing power. Drumbo’s drumming was a thunderstorm of complex rhythms. The bass throbbed right through you vibrating all your internal organs with powerful waves of physical energy. The guitars were strident, weaving magic with intricate interconnecting patterns. Then that voice!! The Captain was like a demented Howlin’ Wolf powering over the top with an avalanche of sheer power, an unleashed cosmic force! The whole band thundered along like a stampeding herd of buffalo, a runaway express, and we were all riding it like on the crest of a giant wave, a wave that roller-coasted along and crashed all around us in an aural explosion.
There’s something incredibly different about Beefheart and the Magic Band. The music is unbelievably complex, yet simple. Once you immerse yourself in its mesmerising groove it transports you. There is primitive magic at work with a sophisticated intricacy. The power is immense. It operates on so many levels – the blues-ridden beat, the basic pulse that drives, underpins a multi-layered mesh of interweaving patterns. Bo Diddley and Howling Wolf melded to abstract art in music form, Dali and Picasso expressed in sound. Once you experience it live and connect with the primeval force alloyed to the twenty-first century esoterics you become lost in it.
I was caught up in the throng, bouncing and jumping in time as the incredible waves flowed through me. We were all connected by some unifying mystical force – the power of music. The whole audience was one superbeing feeding off the energy the band was delivering. There’s nothing gets close! This is the energy that bound our primitive ancestors together when they danced themselves into trances around their camp fires. This was the energy of the brotherhood of the hunting group, the ecstatic festivals, the village celebrations. A music creating unity and excitement!
Life changed! I was not destined to be a doctor!
Best gig ever!
Of course, I didn’t get back until three in the morning, I missed out on my uni place by one grade!
The Magic Band at La Scala London in 2011 + Background
I thought you might have had enough of the Duchess – though I’ve got a lot more photos. Here’s some from London.
Excitement raged. I was taking my youngest son and his friends to see the Amazing Magic Band playing at La Scala in London! It was going to be epic!
It was epic!
More background.
I’m thinking back through fifty five years. Some memories are still vivid.
The Middle Earth gig was scheduled for a couple of weeks before my important A-Level exams. I needed a place at uni for three more years in London! Those exams were crucial. I knew that a trip to Middle Earth meant not getting to be before three. But with a couple of weeks to go that wasn’t even a consideration.
I turned up at Middle Earth to find that the band had cancelled, Drumbo was sick. They put Aynsley Dunbar on instead. Now I liked Aynsley but it was a poor substitute. My expectations had been mounting for weeks.
The good news was that they had rescheduled and were going to perform a double-header with none other than John Mayall with the great Peter Green. A fabulous prospect.
The bad news was that it was the night before my important A Level exam starting at nine in the morning.
The Magic Band – Yet more from the Duchess 2012 Plus background
As soon as I heard that acidified Delta Blues I was hooked. That debut album was brimming with innovation and power. Tracks like ‘Electricity’, ‘Abba Zabba’, ‘Dropout Boogie’, ‘Yellow Brick Road’ ‘Sure Enough And Yes I Do’, and ‘Zig Zag Wanderer’ just blew me away. I’d never heard anything like that before. ‘Safe As Milk’ rapidly became my most played album.
Then Mike informed me that they were touring and going to play Middle Earth! Made my year!
Magic Band – Dorchester 2012
A fabulous gig!!
When I heard that the Magic Band were reforming and touring I was ecstatic. My favourite band! After the initial euphoria, I was much more circumspect. How could anybody possibly substitute for Don Van Vliet? Don probably had the best (and loudest) voice in Rock Music history. He gave Howlin’ Wolf a run for his money. I checked out the line-up and it looked great. There was Gary Lucas, John ‘Drumbo’ French, Denny ‘Feeler’s Rebo’ Walley and Mark ‘Rockette Morton’ Boston. Even so I was expecting little more than a tribute band. How wrong I was. They not only had the vibe and the excitement of the original incarnations but somehow Drumbo turned out to be a dynamic frontman and even carried the vocals to within a gnat’s crotchet. Amazing. After that the band toured regularly and I got to as many gigs as I could, took my younger son and his friends and introduced them to real music. They were blown away. Gary Lucas unfortunately, dropped out (Oh, if only he had been replaced with Zoot Horn Rollo) but Eric Klerks came in and did a fine job. The standard didn’t drop. I even liked the Henry Kuttner incarnation (though I sorely missed both Mark and Denny). Far from a tribute act – they were indeed Magic! Here’s a number of shots of John and the band in action at the Duchess York in 2012.
Captain Beefheart On Track: Every Album, Every Song Paperback
Captain Beefheart (Don Vliet) was undoubtedly the creator of the most bizarre and wonderful music. A child prodigy sculptor, he applied his artistic approach to music, creating ‘aural sculptures’. He befriended Frank Zappa in High School, collaborating on a teenage rock opera and sci-fi/fantasy film entitled Captain Beefheart vs The Grunt People. It was from this film that Don took his name. Of course, a magic character had to have a magic band. The Magic Band started out as a blues band in the mid-sixties but soon, with lysergic propulsion, surreal poetry, free-form jazz, polyrhythms and African beats, they were at the forefront of West Coast Acid Rock. A series of hugely inventive albums, including the infamous Trout Mask Replica, established them as the foremost avant-garde rock band with legendary live performances. The author was there for their first concert at Middle Earth and that night changed his life. Few Bands are as influential. The Beatles, The Fall, PJ Harvey and Tom Waits all pay homage, While The Magic Band have inspired a myriad of tribute bands and created a mythology like no other. This book sets the history of the band in context, analysing every track and interpreting the music with its poetic content. It is essential reading for diehard fans and the Beefheart-curious alike.
Captain Beefheart On Track: Every Album, Every Song : Opher Goodwin: Amazon.co.uk: Books