Throughout the tour, I had been writing chamber music pieces in airports & hotels. Somewhere in the middle of the tour, when asked about an opening act for the London show, I opted to hire 14 members of the BBC symphony to play these pieces, and build a cheesy little psycho-drama around them, featuring the band doing something other than our usual stuff.
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| ?: Donnie! Bunk: Hey, put that down! Art: What are you doin', man? |
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| Bunk: That isn't funniest (FZ: They're tellin' it's bullshit and stop it) Art: What the fuck is this! Ian: Don, why are you interrupting our beautiful piece? Don: Silence, you fools . . . (FZ: Ha ha ha! No, Donnie, more conviction!) |
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| Don: SILENCE, you fools! Don't you believe in PROGRESS? Bunk: Take that progress and stick it under a ROCK. We have to. Don: We must overthrow the diatonic system. (FZ: Yes.) Art: Bullshit. Don: We're coming to the beginning of a NEW ERA wherein the development of the inner self will be the most important factor. Ian: Donnie, your music is full of shit, and besides that it ain't disciplined. Don: Listen . . . Bunk: Give me four-four. Art: Togetherness. Bunk: Yeah. Ian: Some old melodies. Don: Look, playing . . . Art: Put on a tie! Don: Playing that kind of music and eating meat . . . will never, you'll never be able to see my aura then. Art: I've seen your aura a lot, and it really stinks. Bunk: You've been drinking, Don Ian: I can hear your aura and it's bad, man. |
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| Don: Listen, there are many strange things that science doesn't know. Art: Fuck it. |
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Ian: Play any more FZ: So, at this point in the development of our plot the three talented members of the Mothers of Invention have quit the group to form their own band with a lot of discipline. FZ: And so that they would be completely packaged and fit in with the rest of the disciplined combo, the former members of the Mothers of Invention receive their initiation into the robot musical world. |
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Don: This makes me nervous. I'm gonna go do some yoga. |
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FZ: Meanwhile, Dom DeWild, under pressure, prepares to unwind with some healthy yoga exercises. |
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| FZ: This is Euclid Motorhead Sherwood. | |
| Motorhead: What's he doin', Ian? | |
| Motorhead: What's the matter with him? |
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Ian: He's nervous 'cause he couldn't play with our new group. FZ: Motorhead covets the uniforms of the other band. And also shows some interest in the bum of Underwood. Ian: Ayyyy FZ: Motorhead is lying. He can't play good, he can't play anything. He's trying to con his way into the other band. He knows they don't want him. Bunk: I heard you play before. FZ: He's lying. He hasn't been practicing, he doesn't do shit. Bunk: Last week he couldn't even count to four. FZ: Motorhead explains to the members of the Robot Combo that nothing can stop him. He will join their group whether they like it or not. |
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| JCB: What's goin' on here? I thought we were gonna play a Rock & Roll concert. |
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| Ian: Rock & Roll? I, I already quit the Mothers. |
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FZ: At this very moment Jimmy Carl Black, the Indian of the group, is approaching the stage. Jimmy Carl, who likes to drink and also likes to boogie all night long and who is also horny, approaches Underwood in his transformed state at the piano and asks him this all-important question: JCB: Hey I thought we were gonna play a Rock & Roll concert. |
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| JCB: What is this? Ian: Jimmy Carl Black, Indian of the group: four-fours. |
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JCB: How are you gonna get laid if you dont play rock & roll and drink beer? You get laid after the concert if you play rock & roll, this kind of crap you're not gonna, you're not gonna get laid anyway with that uniform on. I'll tell you what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna quit I'm gonna go out and hustle me some chick, the hell with you. FZ: Jimmy Carl, I must inform you, I must inform you, Jimmy Carl, for your own good, that here in London you're not gonna get any pussy unless you look like a popstar. Fix him up! . . . |
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Mod Jacket . . . JCB: WAAAAAAAAAAHHH! FZ: Jimmy Carl Black enters the audience to hustle some young ladies. |
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| Go on Jim, see if you can get any action, and if you get lucky fix us up too. |
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| And if you're really lucky, get something for the robots . . . Mmmm, their little mechanical things are going up and down, up and down . . . | |
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FZ: Then, from out of the corner from the stage, comes Roy Ralph Estrada, perturbed at the present situation within the Mothers. |
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| Roy: Domino, Domino, Domino Biz-bo-OH, Domino Biz-bo-OH, Amen, Domino Biz-bo, Hallelujah, eh . . . FZ: Et cum spiritu tuo . . . Roy: Ian, I dont think I qualify for the Mothers (FZ: They're making up their lines as they go along, isn't it thrilling?) |
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| Ian: Why, Roy? Roy: Because I don't think I'm qualified. I think, |
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| Roy: I think I'm holding the group back because I'm a MEXICAN. And also because I don't play bass good. Ian: I don't care how you can play bass but we have NO MEXICANS in this group. Roy: And I wanna join your group. Ian: No Mexicans! Roy: I can sing opera, I have already quit, I cut my hair, I got all my shit together here. I can do it. Ian: I don't care how you look you gotta be able to cut the part. Roy: I can sing. Please. Please, Ian, give me a CHANCE. Ian: I don't believe you can sing. Roy: Ah, PLEASE! Ah, Ian, |
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| please, hear my PLEA! |
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| PLEASE, IAN! | |
| PLE-E-E-EASE! I can do it, give me a CHANCE! PLEASE! Please, IAN! (FZ: Try me!) |
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| Roy: BWAH-AH-AH-AH! |
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Please! Roy (with JCB): Ian: Okay. You passed the first part of your audition. Now you gotta sing . . . (ROY sings Holiday In Berlin) Ensemble: BOO! BOO! FZ: The rejected Mexican pope leaves the stage . . . Ensemble: FZ: Motorhead is attempting to join the band . . . |
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| The band . . . |
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| Undaunted, the band plays on . . . |
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Meanwhile, the snack enters the mind of Dom DeWild. Ensemble: FZ: It's the macro-biotic food. Don: HA HA HA HA HA! Ensemble: THREE! FOUR! . . . TWO! TWO! FZ: While the well-disciplined Ian Underwood plays his piano solo, Dom DeWild, transformed, begins to sneak up on him. Ensemble: BOO . . . BOO . . . BOO . . . |
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