The Electric Don Quixote: 70th Anniversary of Frank Zappa


"Rock journalism is people who can't write, interviewing people who can't talk, in order to provide articles for people who can't read." (Frank Zappa, 1940-1993)
“Journalists are people who can’t write, interviewing people who can’t talk, in order to provide articles for people who can’t read.” (Frank Zappa, 1940-1993)
A Tribute by David Berger
 
If you want to tell people the truth, make them laugh, otherwise they’ll kill you. (Oscar Wilde)

To celebrate the 70th anniversary of Frank Zappa, one of the most iconoclastic character of American pop culture (beside Groucho Marx and Mel Brooks), an ironical critic of mainstream media (Thomas Pynchon did the same, but in a more incognito way; should I say a Trotzkist one, i.e. smashing the system from inside…), and a passionate advocate for freedom of speech, we reproduce his famous ballade Bobby Brown – which can be interpreted as a satirical view of established social and political processes, structures and movements (both conservative and progressive…).

Just an anecdote, but not a poor one: In early 1990 at the request of Czech President Václav Havel, a fan too, Frank Zappa went into politics, serving as a cultural attaché. Neither Right nor Left, Frank Zappa confirmed that an artist can make a difference in society without such a bullshit like ideology. Unfortunately, this promising political career was broken by his death in 1993.

A delightful sense of humor – not everybody’s taste. An incomparable flair for eclectic and provocative themes – not everybody’s talent. Actually, the great master of American surrealism or dadaism Frank Zappa wasn’t Everybody’s Darling.

Happy birthday, Frank!

***

Bobby Brown Lyrics

Hey there, people, I’m Bobby Brown
They say I’m the cutest boy in town
My car is fast, my teeth is shiney
I tell all the girls they can kiss my heinie
Here I am at a famous school
I’m dressing sharp n im
Acting cool
I got a cheerleader here wants to help with my paper
Let her do all the work n maybe later I’ll rape her

Oh God I am the American dream
I do not think I’m too extreme
An I’m a handsome son of a bitch
I’m gonna get a good job n be real rich

(get a good
Get a good
Get a good
Get a good job)

Women’s liberation
Came creeping across the nation
I tell you people I was not ready
When I fucked this dyke by the name of Freddie
She made a little speech then,
Aw, she tried to make me say when
She had my balls in a vice, but she left the dick
I guess it’s still hooked on, but now it shoots too quick

Oh God I am the American dream
But now I smell like Vaseline
An I’m a miserable son of a bitch
Am I a boy or a lady…I don’t know which

(I wonder wonder
Wonder wonder)

So I went out n bought me a leisure suit
I jingle my change, but I’m still kinda cute
Got a job doin radio promo
An none of the jocks can even tell I’m a homo
Eventually me n a friend
Sorta drifted along into S&M
I can take about an hour on the tower of power
Long as I gets a little golden shower

Oh God I am the American dream
With a spindle up my butt till it makes me scream
An I’ll do anything to get ahead
I lay awake nights sayin, thank you, Fred!
Oh god, oh god, I’m so fantastic!
Thanks to Freddie, I’m a sexual spastic

And my name is Bobby Brown
Watch me now, I’m goin down,
And my name is Bobby Brown
Watch me now, I’m goin down, etc.

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