Road Tapes, Venue #2

FZ:

Hello.

Before we start, I'd like to introduce the members of the group to you and have them play a little bit, so that we know everything works. And Kerry, can you please put some vocal in this monitor box here? There isn't any.

Over there, with a pink jerkin and the little sticks in her hand, is Ruth Underwood, who plays vibes.

Marimba.

Bongos!

Those bongos are not coming out. Play 'em again.

Somebody find out why the bongos are not coming out. Well, meanwhile, the timpani.

Doesn't sound like the timpani are coming out either.

Ruth:

I think the bongos are on.

FZ:

Try the bongos then.

Bongos audible. Try the timpani again.

Timpani audible.

Bass drum.

Gong.

Pathetic. And now, ladies and gentlemen, Ralph Humphrey on drumset.

And cowbells.

More cowbells please.

Yes, yes, yes. And George Duke on keyboard instruments.

Including synthesizer.

Hammond organ.

Is that coming out out there? It doesn't sound like it.

Hit the organ again.

That's better. Okay. Clavinet.

Wonderful. Grand piano.

Suave! And on electric bass, Tom Fowler.

And on violin, Jean-Luc Ponty.

Trombone, Bruce Fowler.

Bass clarinet, Ian Underwood.

Also on synthesizer, Ian Underwood.

Well, I think we've checked everything. Is this coming out? Must be.

The name— The name of the first song we're going to play is "The Eric Dolphy Memorial Barbecue." And then it goes into another song called "Kung Fu." And then it goes into another song called "Penguin In Bondage." And then it goes into another song called "Exercise #4." And then it goes into another song called "Dog Breath." And then it goes into another song called "The Dog Breath Variations." And then it goes into another song called "Uncle Meat." And then it goes into another song called "RDNZL." And then it stops.

(Take it slow? Yeah, take it, take it slow, so we get a accurate performance of "Kung Fu." Okay? With a real groove to it, you know. One, two, three; two, two, three . . . )

 

 

She's just like a Penguin in Bondage, boy
Way over on the wet side
Of the bed

Just like the mighty Penguin
Flappin' her eight ounce wings

Lord, you know it's all over
If she come atcha on the strut and wrap 'em all around yer head
Flappin' her eight ounce wings, flappinumm

She's just like a Penguin in Bondage, boy

Shake up the pale-dry
Ginger ale

Tremblin' like a Penguin
When the battery fail

Lord, you must be havin' her jumpin' through a hoopa real fire
With a Kleenex wrapped around a coat-hang wire

She's just like a Penguin in Bondage, boy
Howlin' over to some
Antarcticulated moon

In the frostbite nite
With her flaps gone white
Shriekin' as she spot the hoop across the room
(Shriekin')

Lord, you know it must be a Penguin bound down
If you hear that terrible screamin'
And there ain't no other birds around

She's just like a Penguin in Bondage, boy
She's just like a Penguin in Bondage, boy
Aw, you must be careful
Not to leave her straps
Too loose

'Cause she just might box yer dog
'Cause she just might box yer dog
An' leave you a dried-up dog biscuit . . .

 

 

 

 

Thank you!

Right. This is a song, folks, about dental floss. That's that string that you put between your teeth to get the corn pieces out.

One, two, one, two, three, four . . .

I might be movin' to Montana soon
Just to raise me up a crop of
Dental Floss

Raisin' it up
Waxen it down
In a little white box
That I can sell uptown

By myself I wouldn't
Have no boss
But I'd be raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss

Raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss

Well I just might grow me some bees
But I'd leave the sweet stuff
To somebody else
Ah, but then, on the other hand I would

Keep the wax
'N melt it down
Pluck the Floss
'N swish it aroun'

I would have me a crop
An' it'd be on top
That's why I'm movin' to Montana

Oh, Woopy-Ty-O-Ty-Ay
Movin' to Montana soon
Gonna be a Dental Floss tycoon

I'm gonna find me a horse
Just about this big
An' ride him all along the border line

With a
Pair of heavy-duty
Zircon-encrusted tweezers in my hand
Every other wrangler would say
I was mighty grand

But by myself I wouldn't
Have no boss
'Cause I'd be raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss

Raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss
Raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss

Well I might
Ride along the border
With my tweezers gleamin'
In the moon-lighty night
(A little tweezer glint!)

And then I'd
Get a cuppa cawfee
'N give my foot a push
Just me 'n the pygmy pony
Over by the Dennil Floss Bush

'N then I might just
Jump back on
An' ride
Like a cowboy
Into the dawn to Montana

The name of this song is "Dupree's Paradise," and it features a piano introduction and some other stuff by Mr. George Duke.

You know, there's an old story, goes something like this . . .

Some folks are hot
And some folks are not
Some people's cold
And some people ain't too
Swift to behold
Some people do it
And some people don't
But when the po-jama do it
You might wish that they won't
Because it's just those cozy little footies on their mind
The cozy little footies on their mind

You know there's nothing like a personality that's constructed like an accordion. Unless it's a personality that's constructed like . . .

A cozy little footie on your mind

One night only, the Po-jama people live in person in Finland, hey!

The Po-jama people can droop it
The Po-jama people can scoop it
The Po-jama people can poop it
But the Po-jama people sure can't boogie

Look out, folks, they're all gonna do it
Watch real close
The Po-jama people are just about to spew it
Here they go!

The following program is being brought to you by the Steve Desper Bathrobe Foundation . . .

Thank you!

Thank you very much.

Well, I think what we're gonna do right now is make something up. One time only. For this audience here. Ian will start it off.

Cowbell.

DUNT-DUN-DUN!

And how about you, folks, why don't you try and sing along with this song? All you have to do is go: DUNT-DUN-DUN!

It's just like you know in the monster movies, when the monster comes out. It's the part— It's the part that the cello section always does, you know? The monster comes out and then it goes . . . DUNT-DUN-DUN!

Okay, you ready? All together now. I wanna hear if they're in tune.

DUNT-DUN-DUN!

Now wait a minute, before I came over here somebody told me that the Finnish people were innately withdrawn, that they were shy and that sometimes, well, people think that they're really reserved but if there's something that would just cut 'em loose one time that there was so much pent-up emotion and warmth and craziness locked inside of each and everyone of you out there, that if you just had a good enough reason, that you would just spew it all over Finlandia Hall.

Now, work yourselves into an emotional frenzy, I'm telling you this has to be the music for you. This is the one. This is the big one. This will be your hit single. All you have to do is say: DUNT-DUN-DUN!

You ready?

DUNT-DUN-DUN!

Fantastic.

One more time!

DUNT-DUN-DUN!

Dunt-Dun-Dun . . .
Dunt-Dun-Dun . . .

A little bit lower now: Dunt-Dun-Dun . . . Dunt . . . Dunt-Dun . . . Dunt-Dunt-Dun-Dun . . . Dunt . . . Dunt-Dun . . . Dunnn . . .

Well, that about wraps it up for tonight, folks. Thanks very much for coming to our concert. We'll see you later, and . . . Dunt-Dun-Dun.

Thank you.

Thank you!

Okay, we have sort of a rock & roll song for you now. But don't despair, it'll get weird and abstruse and unintelligible again in just a couple of minutes. The song that's gonna happen right now is called "Village Of The Sun" and it features Mr. George Duke again, singing in a high voice.

Sickness, folks. Sickness.

Goin' back home
To the Village of the Sun
Out in back of Palmdale
Where the turkey farmers run, I done
Made up my mind
And I know I'm gonna go to Sun
Village, good God I hope the
Wind don't blow

It take the paint off your car
And wreck the windshield too
I don't know how the people stand it
But I guess they do
'Cause they're all still there
Even Johnny Franklin too
In the Village of the Sun
Village of the Sun
Village of the Sun, son
Sun Village to you

Little Mary, and Teddy, and Thelma too, now
Down Palmdale Boulevard
I say, I say, it's on through
Past the Village Inn & Barbecue now
Well, I heard it ain't there
But I hope it ain't true
Where the stumblers gonna go
To watch the lights turn blue?
Where the stumblers gonna go
To watch the lights turn blue?

Goin' back home
To the Village of the Sun
Out in back of Palmdale
Where the turkey farmers run, I done
Made up my mind
And I know I'm gonna go to Sun
Village, good God I hope the
Wind don't blow

It take the paint off your car
And wreck the windshield too
I don't know how the people stand it
But I guess they do
'Cause they're all still there
Even Johnny Franklin too
In the Village of the Sun
Village of the Sun
Village of the Sun, son
Sun Village to you

 

Thank you!

Thank you. Ralph Humphrey on duck call, ladies and gentlemen, Ralph Humphrey! The Acme duck call, ladies and gentlemen, the Acme duck call. Okay, we're gonna play an old song for you now, so old it's almost a year old. It's called "Big Swifty."

George Duke's big challenge.

(Okay, without the drums for the first part.)

Thank you.

We're gonna play another instrumental event for you. This is called "Farther Oblivion."

Sounds like a few of you people have been there already.

Wanna do it fast?

Oh yeah.

Say it again.

Yksi. Kaksi.

(Ready? One, two, three, one, two, three . . . )

Psychedelic music is here to stay.

Everybody sing along!

Now, folks, as you all know, in every good psychedelic number there's the part where it gets loud and the feedback comes in, and then there's the part where it gets soft and sensitive, and then there's a lot of Echoplex stuff in the background, because it's like the CANYONS OF YOUR MIND, you understand? You know, all that deep, sensitive . . . teen-age stuff.

So because this is a regular psychedelic number we don't wanna leave out any aspect of the necessary elements to make it a hit.

Whenever somebody has a hit record you know there's always ONE thing on the record that sticks out. It's the part that everybody remembers and that is called THE HOOK of the record. And usually it's the most obvious thing on the record. So, because this is a regular psychedelic number and we want it to be a hit, we're going to show you where the hook is, so you won't forget it. Okay?

Now, this part here, this is "The Hook." Whenever you hear this part your mind will drift back through the cosmos to "The Hook" of the record.

Thank you very much for coming to the concert tonight, hope you enjoyed it. Ian Underwood on synthesizer, Bruce Fowler on trombone, Ruth Underwood on percussion, Jean-Luc Ponty on violin, Ralph Humphrey on drums, Tom Fowler on bass, George Duke on keyboards, and the Acme duck call. Thank you very much and good night.

"The Hook"!

Thank you.

All right, we're gonna play an old song for you now. We get a lot of requests for this song. Maybe not in Finland, we don't, but, in other places . . . That's right, "Brown Shoes Don't Make It." Everybody ready?

Dunt-Dun-Dun . . . The new international language, ladies and gentlemen. D-U-N, hyphen, D-U— well, D-U-N-T, hyphen, D-U-N, hyphen, D-U-N, hyphen, D-U-N. And don't you forget it.

One, two, one, two, three . . .

Brown shoes
Don't make it
Brown shoes
Don't make it
Quit school
Why fake it?
Brown shoes
Don't make it

TV dinner by the pool
Watch your brother grow a beard
Got another year of school
You're okay but he's too weird
Be a plumber
He's a bummer
He's a bummer
Every summer
Be a loyal plastic robot
For a world that doesn't care
Smile at every ugly
Shine on your shoes and cut your hair

Be a joik
And go t' woik
Be a joik
And go t' woik
Be a joik
And go t' woik
Be a joik
And go t' woik

Do your job and do it right
Life's a ball
TV tonight
Do you love it?
Do you hate it?
There it is
The way you made it

DUNT-DUN-DUN . . .

Dunt-Dun-Dun, Dunt-Dun . . .

A world of secret hungers
Perverting the men who make your laws
Every desire is hidden away
In a drawer, in a desk
By a Naugahyde chair
On a rug where they walk and drool
Past the girls in the office

Hratche-plche
Hratche-plche
Hratche-plche
Hratche

We see in the back
Of the City Hall mind
The dream of a girl about thirteen
Off with her clothes and into a bed
Where she tickles his fancy
All night long

His wife's attending an orchid show
She squealed for a week to get him to go
But back in the bed, his teen-age queen
Is rocking and rolling and acting obscene

And he loves it, he loves it
It curls up his toes
She bites his fat neck
And it lights up his nose
But he cannot be fooled
Old City Hall Fred
She's nasty, she's nasty
She digs it in bed

Do it again
And do it some more
That does it, by golly
It's nasty for sure
Nasty nasty nasty
Nasty nasty nasty
Only thirteen and she knows how to nasty

Well she's a dirty young mind
Corrupted, corroded
Well she's thirteen today
And I hear she gets loaded

P-pum-m-mum-m-mum-m-mum
P-pum-m-mum-m-mum-m-mum
P-pum-m-mum-m-mum
P-bum

If she were my daughter, I'd . . .
(What would you do, daddy?)
If she were my daughter, I'd . . .
(What would you do, daddy?)
If she were my daughter, I'd . . .
(What would you do, daddy?)

Smother that girl in chocolate syrup
And strap her on again, oh baby!
Smother that girl in chocolate syrup
And strap her on again

She's a teen-age baby
She turns me on
I'd like to make her do a nasty
On the White House lawn
Smother my daughter in chocolate syrup
And boogie till the cows come home

Time to go home
Madge is on the phone
Gotta meet the Gurney's
And a dozen grey attorneys

TV dinner by the pool
I'm so glad I finished school
Life is such a ball
I run the world from City Hall!

Thank you, and good night.