PICTURE MUSIC INTERNATIONAL
and
INTERCONTINENTAL ABSURDITIES
presents
ZAPPA
"THE GROUP THAT DOES EVERYTHING WRONG."
FZ: Hello! There's a lot of people out there! How 're you doin'? One moment please . . .
IN A DIGITALLY RECORDED LIVE PERFORMANCE AT
"THE PIER"
NEW YORK CITY
AUGUST 26, 1984
NO LASER WEAPONS
NO FOG
NO OVER-DUBS
AND STILL SOME PEOPLE HAVE THE NERVE TO ASK . . .
FZ: OK! Relax! Please relax!
DOES HUMOR BELONG IN MUSIC?
FZ: No, we're not going to play "Greggery Peccary," I wish we were, but we can't do that one.
FZ: As soon as we've checked everything out, the first song is going to be "Zoot Allures."
FZ: Thank you! Ladies and gentlemen: Ray White! Chad Wackerman! Scott Thunes! Alan Allan Zavod! Bobby Martin! Ike Willis! Now do me a favor and sit down, Okay? Tonight we're gonna do a very long show, I don't want your legs to get tired. So move back and sit down and be comfortable. Do it! Do it!
FZ: I don't, I don't wanna have any problems with people getting mashed here in the front, so please relax!
From Madam Wong's to Starwood
To the Whiskey on the Strip
You can hear the crashing, blasting strum
Of bands that come to be real hip
And get a record contract
From a talent scout some day
They'll sell their ass, their cocks and balls
They'll take the check 'n walk away
If they're lucky they'll get famous
For a week or two perhaps
They'll buy some ugly clothes to wear
And hope the business don't collapse
Before some stupid magazine
Decides they're really good
They're a Tinsel Town Rebellion Band
From downtown Hollywood
Tinsel Town Rebellion,
Tinsel Town Rebellion Band
It's a little bitty Tinsel Town Rebellion
A Tinsel Town Rebellion Band
They used to play all kinds of stuff
And some of it was nice
Some of it was musical
But then they took some guy's advice
To get a record deal, he said,
They would have to be more punk
Forget their chops and play real dumb
Or else they would be sunk
So off they go to S.I.R. to learn some stupid riffs
(Oh no!)
No!
(No no no no no no)
No!
(It's the 80's again!)
And when they think they've got it
They launch a new career
Who gives a fuck if what they play
Is somewhat insincere
(Let's dance the blues again, get down
Dance the blues again, everybody
Dance the blues again, hey . . .
I write the songs that make the young girls cry!)
Did you know that in Tinsel Town the people down there
Think that substance is a bore
And if your New Wave group looks good
They'll hurry on back for more
Of leather groups
(Eye to eye
Rock you like a nincompoop!)
And plastic groups
(Whip it good!)
And groups that look real queer
(I'll tumble 4 ya!
I'll tumble 4 ya!
I'll tumble 4 . . . )
(Moo moo moo moo moo
Moo moo moo moo moo
Moo moo moo moo moo
Moo moo moo MOO-AHHH!)
The Tinsel Town aficionados
Come to see and not to hear
But then again this system works
As perfect as a dream
It works for all of those record company pricks
Who come to skim the cream
From the cesspools of excitement
Where Jim Morrison once stood
It's the Tinsel Town Rebellion
From down down down
(Down down down)
Town town town
(Town town town)
Holl loll loll
(Holl loll loll)
Lly lly lly lly
Woo-oo-ooh-ooh-ooh-ah-ooh-ah-ooh-ood
Downtown Hollywood!
An incredible ugly little town!
It's really boring!
InterviewerDave Tarbert: You seem to really perform well live. You exude a lot of energy.
FZ: Ah yah! We're terrific!
InterviewerDave Tarbert: Oh, yeah.
FZ: And I'm not kidding!
CALVIN AHLGREN
San Francisco Chronicle
Reading from
"THE LIFE OF FRANCESCO ZAPPA"
Calvin Ahlgren: I am Frank-Zappa-as-imagined-by-the-editor-of-a-famous-rock-&-roll-magazine. I am an anachronism who makes the ugliest music on the planet. I have no right to call myself a member of the human race. I am tasteless, untalented, pompous, arrogant, cruel, insensitive, vulgar and not a fun guy because I don't use drugs.
Member Of The Audience: You speak out against drugs, why is it you smoke cigarettes?
FZ: Well, to me a cigarette is food, you see. Now that may be a baffling concept to people in San Francisco who, who have this theory that they will live forever if they stamp out ah, tobacco smoke. I find this a little bit difficult to deal with, but, I live my life eating these things and drinking this black water in this cup here, OK?
InterviewerDave Tarbert: You, by your fans, or by the public, they don't know how to take you: either a genius (thought of by some people), or someone who is a little bit ah, risquee. How would you prefer?
FZ: Well, I mean, what's wrong with being risquee? You know. I think that what I do is wonderful, it doesn't hurt anybody and ah, people like to have ah, a good time. We're here to entertain 'em, so, what's the difference?
Well I'm about to get sick
From watchin' my TV
Been checkin' out the news
Until my eyeballs fail to see
I mean to say that every day
Is just another rotten mess
(Sure enough!)
And when it's gonna change, my friend
Is anybody's guess
So I'm watchin' and I'm waitin'
Hopin' for the best
Even think I'll go to prayin'
Every time I hear them sayin'
There's no way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
No way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
Wednesday I watched the riot
I seen the cops out on the street
I watched 'em throwin' rocks and stuff
And chokin' in the heat
I listened to reports
(We've got a . . . whisky . . . )
About the whisky passin' 'round
( . . . show them the whisky I bought ya)
I seen the smoke and fire
And the market burnin' down
Watched while everybody
On the street would take a turn
To stomp and smash and bash and crash
And slash and bust and burn
And I'm watchin' and I'm waitin'
I'm hopin' for the best
Even think I'll go to prayin'
Every time I hear them sayin' . . .
InterviewerDave Tarbert: Does humor belong in music?
FZ: I think so, it belongs in every day life unless ah, the Republicans wanna take it away.
Republicans is fine,
If you're a multi-millionaire
Democrats is fair,
If all you own is what you wear
Neither of 'em's REALLY right,
'Cause neither of 'em CARE
'Bout that Hot-Plate Heaven,
'Cause they ain't been there
FZ: Republicans, when they go into office . . . Because . . . it takes a certain amount of pressure to force a person to be, become a Republican the first way; we have to feel a little sorry for 'em.
InterviewerPablo Guzman: (Yeah, that's true, we do.)
FZ: And it's a lot of trouble, pressure that makes people become Democrats too. But, when they get under this pressure, it explodes and the raincoat pops open . . .
Nature didn't put me here,
An' neither did my fate—
It musta been some evil ol'
Republican candidate!
He's over there in Washington,
But I wish he was in HELL
'Cause I'm in Hot-Plate Heaven
At the Green Hotel
FZ: The first thing you do whenever Ronald Reagan is speaking on television: turn it on and turn the sound down, and put your child in front of the set and point to him and say: "If he asked you to get into a car, offers you candy, or tells you to go to fight in Nicaragua: tell him NO!"
Things is slightly better now;
They hope we will forget
Their misery of 'TRICKLE DOWN',
An' jelly-bean etiquette
The Regal Presidential Style
Has simply not worn well,
But neither has my rags,
Up in the Green Hotel
I said the Green Hotel
Oh, yah!
The Green Hotel
That's right!
The Green Hotel
Oh!
The Green Hotel
Neither has my rags,
Up in the Green Hotel
Pass me the dog-food!
InterviewerDave Tarbert: You've done a lotta video things, but have you done any real commercial type MTV videos?
FZ: We did one 'bout ah . . . (Hey hi ho hi!) Rustic setting! Ah, we did one ah, in 1980 for a song called "You Are What You Is," and ah, it didn't get played very much because I had a guy who looked like Ronald Reagan getting the electric chair. And some people thought that was dangerous . . . Pan over! One more time!
InterviewerDave Tarbert: One more time . . .
FZ: Stamp your foot four times! Titties and beer! I get the picture!
InterviewerDave Tarbert: Titties and beer . . .
FZ: Awright!
InterviewerDave Tarbert: Thank you! Thank you!
FZ: Man, that's goin' on right away!
InterviewerDave Tarbert: Ha ha ha . . . Oh, sh . . . FZ: Does that it ever happen at the Barry Manilow concerts?
InterviewerDave Tarbert: Oh! I don't know. There's ah, usually something . . . there's too much drugs at the Barry Manilow shows.
FZ: Yeah! They can't quite get the sweater up . . .
InterviewerDave Tarbert: You're anti, speaking about drugs, you have spoken out against that . . .
FZ: Yeah . . .
InterviewerDave Tarbert: That's . . . that's sorta not the norm for musicians, usually . . .
FZ: That's another reason why I don't get my music on the radio, because I'm totally out of step with reality. You know: I'm not a religious fanatic, I don't use drugs, and I'm neither a Republican nor a Democrat, and ah, I'm reasonably sane.
The dangerous kitchen
If it aint't one thing it's another
In the middle of the night when you come home
The bread things are all dry 'n scratchy
The meat things where the cats ate through the paper
The soft little things on the floor that you step on
They can all be DANGEROUS
Sometimes
The milk can hurt you
(If you put it on your cereal
Before you smell the plastic container)
And the stuff in the strainer
Has a mind of its own
So be very careful
In the dangerous kitchen
When the night time has fallen
And the roaches are crawlin'
In the kitchen of danger
You can feel like a stranger
The bananas are black
They got flies in the back
And also the chicken
In the dish with the foil
Where the cream is all clabbered
And the salad is frightful
Your return in the evening
Can be less than delightful
You must walk very careful
You must not lean against it
It can get on your clothing
It can follow you in
As you walk to the bedroom
And you take all your clothes off
While you're sleeping
It crawls off
It gets in your bed
It could get on your face then
It could eat your complexion
You could die from the danger
Of the dangerous kitchen
Who the fuck wants to clean it?
It's disgusting and dirty
The sponge on the drainer
Is stinky and squirty
If you squeeze it when you wipe up
What you get on your hands then
Could unbalance your glands and
Make you blind or whatever . . .
In the dangerous kitchen
At my house tonight
He's so gay
(He's so gay)
(YEAH)
He's very very gay
He's so gay
(He's so gay)
(HE'S GAY)
And he likes to be that way
With his keys on the right
He's into rubber every night
He's so gay
He's ALMOST EVERYONE TODAY
He's okay
(He's okay)
He's got a role he wants to play
He's okay
He's just a cowboy for a day
'Course, his evening's not complete
Without some meat in the seat;
Let's skate away
Down Santa Monica today
(Well well well)
Maybe he wants a little spanking
Maybe he'll eat a little chain
Maybe his lover should be thanking him
For the way he makes it sprinkle
Into drops of GOLDEN RAIN
UH-OWWW . . .
(Let's mine the harbor . . . )
He's so gay
(He's so gay)
He rules the city in a way
You could say
(You could say)
It's sorta different today
All the taffeta and chintz
And every Leather Boy's a PRINCE
Hey hey hey!
Please don't look the other way
You could be just like him
TOMORROW!
Ai-ee-ai-ee-ai-ee-ahhhh!
Mah-mah-mah-mah-mah-mah
Maybe you'll get a chance
To borrow
(Borrow)
His bouquet (mmmh . . . )
And maybe later . . .
MAYBE LATER
We'll ALL BE
GAY-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y!
DO YOU REALLY WANNA HURT ME?
MOO-AHHH!
Ooo! We sure do!
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
(Heinie heinie ho)
Here I am at a famous school
I'm dressin' sharp 'n, I'm actin' 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 sonofabitch
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 creepin' all 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 sonofabitch
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
I 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
And my name is Bobby Brown
Watch me now, because the name of this song is "Keep It Greasey."
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Roll it over 'n grease it down
I'll drive you through the heart of town
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Roll it over 'n grease it down
I'll drive you through the heart of town
Hey, the these good women, they sure has it tough
The good men, well there just ain't enough
All the good girls are lookin' all the time
Good men is something that they can't find
'Cause if they find one miraculously
They try to be lovin' as they can be
But if they find one and let him go
Chances are they might not never find one no mo'
So they keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Roll it over 'n grease it down
I'll drive you through the heart of town
A good lovin' man is hardest to find
A good woman needs to ease her mind
I know a few that need to ease it behind
All y'gotta do is grease it down
'n everything is fine
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Roll it over 'n grease it down
I'll drive you through the heart of town
A girl don't need
No fancy grease
To get herself
(No)
Some rump release
(Now)
Any kind
Of lube'll do
(Well)
Maybe from another
Part of you
Lube from the North
Lube from the South
Take a little slobber
From the side of your mouth
(From your mouth
From your mouth
From your mouth
From your mouth)
Roll it over
Grease it down
Here come that crazy
Screamin' sound . . .
(Come on!)
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Roll it over 'n grease it down
Down
Down
Grease it down . . .
Oh no no no! Here comes that screamin' sound again . . .
Honey honey, hey
Baby, don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby, don't you want a man like me
He was the Playboy Type (he smoked a pipe)
His fav'rite phrase was "outa-site!"
He had an Irish Setter
(Hrtch-a-pltch
Hrtch-a-pltch
Hrtch-a-pltch
Arf!)
It was a singles bar, a Tuesday night
The moon was dim, the band was tight
They did the Bump together
What a splendid sight
(Roon doon toon toonRun nun tun taa)
Her teeth were white
(Roon doon doon doon doon doonRun nun nun nun nun naa)
The drinks were cheap
(It was Ladies Nite)
He was glad that he met her
She was an office girl (Her name was Betty)
Her fav'rite group was . . .
Audience: Helen Reddy!
No! Twisted Sister!
FZ: Okay, wait wait wait, let's do it right. Okay, now that you know what you're supposed to say there, let's hear it.
She was an office girl (Her name was Betty)
Her fav'rite group was . . . Twisted Sister
(They discussed the weather)
Honey honey, hey
Baby, don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby, don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby, don't you want a
Baby, don't you want a
Baby, don't you want a
Man!
She was a lonely sort, just a little too short
Her jokes were dumb and her fav'rite sport
Was hockey (in the winter)
(Mumble-mumble . . . and he scores!)
He was duly impressed and was quick to suggest
Any sport with a PUCK had to be 'bout the best
As he jabbed his elbow in her
(Get it honey? Get it honey? Miss it Honey?)
Later on they went off to where the music was soft
The candles were drippy, they saw a real hippy
Who delivered their dinner
The rice was brown, and soon they found
That the crowd around that had jammed the room
Well it seemed to be getting thinner
Honey honey, hey
Baby, don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby, don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby, don't you want a
Baby, don't you want a
Baby, don't you want a
Man!
He took her home to a motor court
She wouldn't kiss him, he tried to ignore it
But it made him angry!
(Oh boy! What a cone!
And I don't believe that he can bust . . . )
(What? . . . )
He called her a pig
(Pig pig pig . . . )
A slut
(Slut slut slut . . . )
And a whore
(Whore whore whore . . . )
A bitch
(Bitch bitch bitch . . . )
And a Republican
(Republican!)
And she slammed
(She slammed)
The door
In a petulant frenzy!
(A petulant frenzy!
This is a Republican frenzy!
I'm Republican
And I'm having a frenzy!)
On the sofa she weeps
(Boo hoo hoo hoo)
She weeps and she weeps
(Boo hoo hoo hoo hoo hoo)
She weeps and she peeps
Through the curtain
He just got in his car
But the battery's dead
So he has to use the phone
And she gives him some head
And that's the end of the story
Honey honey, hey
Baby, don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby, don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby, don't you want a
Baby, don't you want a
Baby, don't you want a
Man!
Baby, don't you want a man sometimes?
FZ: A young lady has ah, felt that ah, my treatment of women in my lyrics and social comments has not been particularly positive. And ah, there's no reason why it should be. You should take your lumps along with everybody else because women do stupid fucking things, just like the guys do. And if I say guys are stupid and a woman does something stupid, don't be a whimp about it, just because you got that thing between your legs is no problem.
Freaks!
New hair!
Couldn't say where she's comin' from
But I just met a lady named Dinah-Moe Humm
She stroll Strolled on over, said look here, bum
I got a forty-dollar bill says you can't make me cum
No way! Y'jes can't do it
She made a bet with her sister who's a little bit dumb
She could prove it any time all men was scum
Well, I don't mind that she called me a bum
But I knew right away she was really gonna cum
So I got down to it
Whipped off her bloomers 'n stiffened my thumb
An' applied rotation on to her sugar plum
I poked 'n stroked till my wrist got numb
But I still didn't hear no Dinah-Moe Humm
Dinah-Moe Humm
Dinah-Moe Humm
Dinah-Moe Humm
Where's this Dinah-Moe
Comin' from
I done spent three hours
An' I ain't got a crumb
From the Dinah-Moe, Dinah-Moe, Dinah-Moe
From the Dinah-Moe Humm
MOO-AHHH!
(What?)
Got a spot that gets me hot
An' you ain't been to it
Got a spot that gets me hot
An' you ain't been to it
Got a spot that gets me hot
But you ain't been to it
I got a spot that gets me hot
But you ain't been to it
'Cause I can't get into it
Unless I get out of it
(Oh yeah!)
An' I gotta get out of it
Before I get into it
(Let's join the Navy!)
'Cause I can't get into it
Unless I get out of it
(No, let's not)
An' I gotta get out of it
Before I get into it
She looked over at me with a glazed eye
And some bovine perspiration on her upper lip area
And she said . . . and here's what she said . . .
(What'd she say?)
Just get me wasted
An' you're half-way there
'Cause if my mind's tore up
Well, then my body don't care
I rubbed my chinny-chin-chin
An' said my-my-my
What sort of thing
Might this lady get high upon?
The forty-dollar bill didn't matter no more
When her sister got nekkid an' laid on the floor
She said Dinah-Moe might win the bet
But she could use a little (Navy!) Prince if I wasn't done yet
I told her . . .
Just because the sun
Want a place in the sky
No reason to assume
I wouldn't give her a try
So I pulled on her hair
Got her legs in the air
An' asked her if she had any cooties in there
(Whaddya mean cooties! No cooties on me!)
She was buns-up kneelin'
(Buns up!)
I was wheelin' an' dealin'
(Wheelin' an' dealin' an' ooooh!)
She surrendered to the feelin'
(She sweetly surrendered)
Started in to squealin'
Dinah-Moe watched
From the edge of the bed
With her lips just twitchin'
An' her face gone red
Some drool rollin' down
From the edge of her chin
While she spied the condition
Her sister was in
She quivered 'n quaked
She clutched all over herself
Her sister made a joke
About her mental health
Until Dinah-Moe finally
Did give in
But I told her
All she really needed
Was some discipline
I said . . .
Kiss my aura . . . Dora . . .
That's right
Because it's real angora
Would y'all like some more-a?
Right here on the flora?
An' how 'bout you, Fauna?
Do you wanna?
The Mystery Man came over
An' he said, "I'm outa-site!"
He said, for a nominal service charge
I could reach nervonna t'nite
If I was ready, willing 'n able
To pay him his regular fee
He would drop all the rest of his pressing affairs
And devote His Attention to me
But I said . . .
Look here brother
Who you jivin' with that Cosmik Debris?
(Now who you jivin' with that Cosmik Debris, UHHuh?)
Look here brother
Don't you waste your time on me
The Mystery Man got nervous
An' he fidget around a bit
He reached in the pocket of his Mystery Robe
An' he whipped out a shaving kit
Now, I thought it was a razor
An' a can of foamin' goo
But he told me right then when the top popped open
There was nothin' his box won't do
With the oil of Afro-dytee
An' the dust of the Grand Wazoo
He said, "You might not believe this, little fella
But it'll cure your Asthma too!"
An' I said, hey . . .
Look here brother
Who you jivin' with that Cosmik Debris?
(Now what kind of a geroo are you anyway?)
Look here brother
Don't you waste your time on me
I've got troubles of my own, I said
An' you can't help me out
So take your meditations an' your preparations
An' ram it up yer snout
"BUT I GOT A KRISTL BOL!," he said
An' held it on up to the light
So I snatched it
All away from him
An' I showed him them how to do it right
I wrapped a newspaper 'round my head
So I'd look like I was Deep
I said some Mumbo Jumbos then
An' told him he was goin' to sleep
I robbed his rings
An' his pocket watch
An' everything else I found
I had that sucker hypnotized
He couldn't even make a sound
(Aboganza!)
I proceeded to tell him his future then
As long as he was hanging around, I said
"The price of meat has just gone up
An' yer ol' lady has just gone down"
Uh-oh! Look here brother
Who you jivin' with that Cosmik Debris?
(Now is that a real poncho or is that a New Jersey poncho?)
Don't you know
You could make more money in the Navy
So don't you waste your time on me
(Don't Sri Chin, don't Sri Chinmoy on me)
Ohm shonty, ohm shonty, ohm NAVY-ohm
FZ: Ray White, Chad Wackerman, Scott Thunes, Allan Zavod, Bobby Martin, Ike Willis. Thank you!
InterviewerDave Tarbert: This is a personal thing. I think that if you want to make top ten hits and sell millions of as many records, as you could, and you choose not to . . .
FZ: Yeah, but who wants to go through life with a tiny nose and one glove on?
FZ: Oh yah! AboganzaAbbondanza . . . Thank you! Let's get serious! No, let's don'tnot! Let's mine the harbourharbor!
Be in my video,
Darling, every night
I will rent a cage for you
And mi j-i-nits dressed in white
(teeny-little-tiny-little . . . )
Twirl around in a lap dissolve
Pretend to sing the words
I'll rent a gleaming limousine;
Release a flock of
Ber-herna-herna-herna
Herna-her-nerds
Why don't you
Wear a leather collar
And a dagger in your ear
(Stabbinitin-stabbinitin-stabbinitin-stabbinitin-YOU!)
I will make you smell the glove
And try to look sincere, then we'll
Dance the blues
(Oh yes, we'll dance the blues)
Let's dance the blues
(What a terrific idea!)
Let's dance the blues
(Oh, you'll love it, it's a way of life)
Under the megawatt moonlight
Pretend to be Chinese,
(One-hung-low)
I'll make you wear red shoes
There's a cheesy atom bomb explosion
All the big groups use
Atomic light will shine
Through an old venetian blind
Making patterns on your face,
An' then it cuts to outer space
With its billions & billions &
Billions & billions
(Oh, be)
Be in my video
(In my video)
Darling, every night
(Darling, every night)
Everyone in cable-land
(Everyone in cable-gable-land)
Will say you're 'outa-site'
(Will say you're really 'outa-site')
You can show your legs
(You can show your pretty legs)
While you're getting in the car, then
(In my red hot-rod car, then I . . . )
I will look repulsive
(With my big ears and all)
While I mangle my guitar
Reen-toon-teen-toon-teen-toon
Tee-nu-nee-nu-nee,
Moo-ahhhh
Reen-toon-teen-toon-teen-toon
Tee-nu-nee-nu-nee,
Moo-moo-ahhhh
Reen-toon-teen-toon-teen-toon
Tee-nu-nee-nu-nee,
Moo-ahhhh
Tee-nu-nee—moo-ahhhh
Tee-nu-nee—moo-wah-wah-wah-ooo
After all the close-up shots
Of you in bondage leather
They'll spray an alley with a hose
And then we'll MINE THE HARBOR
Dance de blude agin
Led dance de blude agin (oh, yeah)
Led dance de blude agin
In de middle o' de alley
Let's dance your face
Let's dance your lips
Let's dance your nose
And then we'll dance your sinus
It's definitely a case of
MOO-AHHHH!
I don't know much about dancin'
That's why I got this song
One of my legs is shorter than the other
'N both my feet's too long
'Course now right along with 'em
Got no natural rhythm
But I go dancin' every night
Hopin' one day I might get it right
I'm a
Dancin' fool
I'm a
Dancin' fool
I'm a
Dancin' fool
I'm a
Dancin' fool
I hear that beat, jump outa my seat
But I can't compete, 'cause I'm a
Dancin' fool
I'm a
Dancin' fool
The disco folks all dressed up
Like they's fit to kill
Walk on in 'n see 'em there
Gonna give them all a thrill
When they see me comin'
They all steps aside
They has a fit while I commit
My social suicide
I'm a
Dancin' fool
I'm a
Dancin' fool
I'm a
Dancin' fool
I'm a
Dancin' fool
The beat goes on
But I'm so wrong
(Wrong!)
Ah, the beat goes on
But I'm so . . . wrong
(Wrong!)
The beat goes on 'n I'm so wrong
The beat goes on 'n I'm so wrong
The beat goes on 'n I'm so wrong
The beat goes on 'n I'm so wrong
I may be totally wrong but I'm a
Dancin' fool
I may be totally wrong but I'm a
Dancin' fool
(Yowsa, yowsa, yowsa)
I got it all together now
With my very own disco clothes, hey!
My shirt's half open, just t'show you my chain
'N the spoon for up my nose
I am really somethin'
That's what you'd probably say
So smoke your little smoke
Drink your little drink
While I dance the night away
I'm a
Dancin' fool
I'm a
Dancin' fool
I'm a
Dancin' fool
I'm a
Dancin' fool
(He's a
Dancin' fool)
I may be totally wrong but I'm a
I may be totally wrong but I'm a
I may be totally wrong but I'm a
I may be totally wrong but I'm a fool (Oh, yeah!)
(Oh, girl!)
Hey darlin', what's a girl like you doin' in a harbour harbor like this?
Do you come here often?
And if so, why?
(Ki-ni-shinai!)
Wait a minute, I've got it, you're an Italian!
What? Yer Jewish? Love your nails!
(Ki-ni-shinai!)
You must be a Libra . . .
Lookin' for Mister Goodbar? Or Mister GoodranchGoodwrench?
(Ki-ni-shinai!)
Never mind. Look! Let's get down to business here, darlin'
Ordinarily I would just say, "Your place or mine?"
(Ki-ni-shinai!)
But tonight I think what I'm gonna do is pop the big question to ya
Let's get really serious
(Ki-ni-shinai!)
Whaddya say, we go over to my place an' I just sort of tie you to . . .
(Ki-ni-shinai!)
The Whippin' Post!
I been run down
Lord, 'n I been lied to
And I don't know why
I let that mean woman make me out a fool
She took all my money
'N wrecked my new car
Now she's with one of my good-time buddies,
Drinkin' in some cross-town bar
Sometimes I feel
Sometimes I feel
Like I been
Tied to the whippin' post
Tied to the whippin' post
Tied to the whippin' post
Good Lord, I feel like I'm dyin'
My friends tell me
That I been such a fool
I have to stand back an' take it, babe
All for loving you
I drown myself in sorrow
As I look at what you've done
But nothin' seems to change;
That bad times stay the same,
And I can't run
Sometimes I feel
Sometimes I feel
Like I been
Tied to the whippin' post
Tied to the whippin' post
Tied to the whippin' post
Ah, good Lord, I feel like I'm dyin'
Lord
Oh, Lord, no
Yeah, yeah
Oh, Lord
Been tied down
Sometimes I feel
Sometimes I feel
Like I been
Tied to the whippin' post
Tied to the whippin' post
Tied to the whippin' post
Yeah, Lo-o-o-ord-ooo-ooo-ooh!
Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord
You know I believe
I said I believe
I said I do believe
I really do believe
I must say it again, I believe
That just there ain't no such thing
As dyin'
Produced and Directed
By
FRANK ZAPPA
Edited by
BOOEY KOBER
Executive Producers
CYNTHIA BIEDERMANN
BOB HART
All Selections Composed By
FRANK ZAPPA
Published By
MUNCHKIN MUSIC
ASCAP
Except
"Whippin' Post" By
GREG ALLMAN
Published By
UNICHAPEL MUSIC/
ELIJAH BLUE MUSIC
BMI
Music Performed By
RAY WHITE
Guitar, Vocal
IKE WILLIS
Guitar, Vocal
BOBBY MARTIN
Keys, Vocal
ALAN ZAVOD
Keys
SCOTT THUNES
Bass
CHAD WACKERMAN
Drums
Location Director
LARRY LINDBERG
Interview Footage
Provided Courtesy of:
DAVE TARBERT
WEWS, Cleveland, Ohio
PABLO GUZMAN
WNEW, New York City
KRON-TV
San Francisco, CA
With Special Thanks To
CHARLES AMIRKHANIAN
and
CALVIN AHLGREN
Cameramen
MIGUEL ARMSTRONG
BRIAN BURKEY
DAVE CONNELY
JIMMY GOLDSMITH
MANNY GUETEREZ
JOHN HAMMOND
JOHN JOPSON
GENE SAMUELS
LARRY SOLOMON
JOHN WALSH
Assistant Editor
REX PAULING
Technical Directors
RICHARD DUKE
MIKE SHEEHAN
Lighting
BOB LAMPELL
Video Technicians
BOB HUNTER
MANNY KAUFMAN
JEFF SMITH
Audio Coordinator
ED BEZOUSKA
Utility
PHIL ALCABES
JOHN BUERGERMEISTER
LEANDRO BLANCO
LOUIS BLANCO
BILL TWEEDY
Production Assistants
JIM HANCOCK
KIMBERLY ROSSUM
RON SEDGWICK
U.M.R.K.
Remote Recording
MARK PINSKE
TOM EHLE
Music Re-mix
BOB STONE
at U.M.R.K.
Post Production Facility
PACIFIC VIDEO
Hollywood
Digital Audio
Equipment By
SONY
A
PICTURE MUSIC
INTERNATIONAL
PRODUCTION
For
INTERCONTINENTAL
ABSURDITIES LTD.
© 1985
FRANK ZAPPA
All compositions by Frank Zappa except as noted