Captain Beefheart: An Artist, A Heartist by by Greg Prevost and Carl Mack
As we approached Captain Beefheart for an interview he was remarking to a small gathering of fans seeking photos “I wish I was an octopus, I really do though. I mean, could you imagine standing there octopied like that. No, I mean man, that’s beautiful, really… I love dolphins, and octopus…” We met the Captain [Don Van Vliet] in the parking lot, between concerts at the Red Creek Inn here in Rochester recently, during his North Eastern tour, and recorded the following interview: GREG: [photographing Carl and the Captain holding a ‘Trout Mask Replica’ album, leaning against a white station wagon] Hafta stand back aRead More →
Zappa and the Captain Cook by Steve Weitzman
PASSAIC, NEW JERSEY – Captain Beefheart, rock’s sometime genius, had just finished a show with Frank Zappa, with whom he’s touring after the end of their longtime feud. Slumped backstage at the Capitol Theatre, he scratched his shaggy head and slowly related the latest bizarre turn in his odd life. “I said some silly things,” Beefheart noted, “because I’m a spoiled brat and I don’t understand business to the degree that Frank does. I probably felt neglected. I’ll admit it… and I told him so. I said, ‘I’m sorry Frank and I don’t mean that for an excuse.’ We shook hands and that was that.”Read More →
Captain Beefheart by Roger Ames
Beefheart has been called a genius and that is unfortunate. Geniuses for the most part are people who die poor and unrecognised only to then receive attention (No, this is not Jim Crotchetey we’re talking about). For the most part geniuses are not rock stars and if they are they’re the type who don’t tour and only come out of seclusion every few years to record an album before scurrying back into the isolation of the California hills or ‘the country’. It’s part of a mystique creating process that Beefheart has unfortunately been associated with. If the album is so crazy that no one canRead More →
To Be Far Out Or Not To Beefheart Out by Tony Barrell
The article is introduced by the ZigZag editor, Connor McKnight. Many thanks indeed to Michael H for sending this along. In September of 1970, I moved into a new flat in Bayswater. It has about it an air of what indifferent novelists invariably call faded gentility. All our neighbours seemed very old and very quiet, but it was still a nice place. Now one evening when I was sitting on the toilet, of all things, a faint trace of musk wafted through the door, and upon closer listening it bore a great similarity to ‘Space-Age Couple’ from ‘Decals’ – in fact it was ‘Space-Age Couple’.Read More →
Conversation with Captain Beefheart by Eliot Wald
The introduction merely relates the Beefheart ‘legend’, however the interview itself is particularly interesting as the Captain discusses the formation of the Magic Band and the music which they produced, offering full credit to those involved and their contributions to the music. Captain Beefheart is not a military hero, the star of a kiddie show, or the symbol of a brand of dog food. After spending some time with him, though, you get the feeling that he could, if he really wanted to, be any one of those things. What he might be is the most unorthodox, most creative pop musician of this decade. IfRead More →
Captain Finds his Water by Steve Peacock
This article / interview first appeared in Sounds 14th April 1973. Many thanks indeed to Simon Sergeant for typing it up and sending it. I must confess I didn’t expect Captain Beefheart’s reply to “Hello, how are you?” to be that he felt fine but was very angry about the Muhammad Ali fight: “Look what they have done to him man, I mean he won that, and they took it away from him.” Don Van Vliet and his wife Jan joined us for a lunch a couple of days after he flew in to London for his biggest and potentially most successful tour here. WithRead More →
Me and Beefheart at Manteno by Mike Bourne
The Manteno Festival may be the only festival not covered by the usual media overblow – mainly, of course, because Cincinnati is hardly your basic cultural Mecca. Also, no film was made, no records were cut, no one was killed or over-stoned or rioted – only music happened, albeit quite theatrical music, and a good but not revolutionary time was had by all. Well-met at the Ludlow Garage on Nov. 20-21, local entrepreneur Jim Tarbell by beneficent accident had simply assembled a jumble of freaky bands for two evenings of hot licks: The hometown Balderdash, two Georgia gangs (The Avenue of Happiness and the HamptonRead More →
I’m not even here I just stick around for my friends: The Odyssey of Captain Beefheart by Langdon Winner
“Uh oh, the phone,” Captain Beefheart mumbled as he placed his tarnished soprano saxophone in its case. “I have to answer the telephone.” It was a very peculiar thing to say. The phone had not rung. Beefheart walked quickly from his place by the upright piano across the dimly lit living room to where the telephone lay. He waited. After ten seconds of stony silence it finally rang. None of the half dozen or so persons in the room seemed at all surprised by what had just happened. In the world of Captain Beefheart, the extraordinary is the rule. At age 29, Captain Beefheart, alsoRead More →
Captain Beefheart’s 10 Commandments of Guitar Playing
Budding guitarists take note. 1. Listen to the birds That’s where all the music comes from. Birds know everything about how it should sound and where that sound should come from. And watch hummingbirds. They fly really fast, but a lot of times they aren’t going anywhere. 2. Your guitar is not really a guitar Your guitar is a divining rod. Use it to find spirits in the other world and bring them over. A guitar is also a fishing rod. If you’re good, you’ll land a big one. 3. Practice in front of a bush Wait until the moon is out, then go outside,Read More →
Tulip by Don Van Vliet
It could be a tremendous black upside-down tulip it could be a black fishes’ tail it could be a day, artistically crimped and buoyant in its taped together way (28 September, 1991) A 1993 reading of Tulip is availableRead More →
Safe Sex Drill by Don Van Vliet
The child held the old T.P. roll carefully thoughtful not to misshape the hole (1990?) A 1993 reading of Safe Sex Drill is availableRead More →
Three Months In The Mirror by Don Van Vliet
Three months in the mirror burning hip – let’s go to the kennel honey and get one of those cute little moth pups they flap their little wings and fly around a light globe and you can keep ’em in the closet and feed ’em socks – six months in the mirror burning hip – honey let’s go out naked tonight with our moth puppy don’t forget the socks and the light bulbs make sure it’s not too warm you don’t want to burn his lttle wings – the lights are soft, streets soft, skies soft, the mirrors soft the smell of burnt powder theRead More →
A Tin Peened Reindeer by Don Van Vliet
A tin peened reindeer Metalically hoofed on glass Scorched cotton snowmen edged the corners Flesh coloured powder mountains Yellow lights melts cobwebbed articles Vague wire tunnels resembling Peeled flesh caterpillers Housing very tiny red Christmas tree lights The Nativity scene Re-enacted in Ivory soap A bone shade from age complete With tiny straw manger The Christ child its face replaced by an elephant’s head Intricate lace cups each ear and bands the trunk (1987)Read More →
Untitled by Don Van Vliet
The first scene was the bathtub ring and then out through the window ZOOM…. a little boy cutting out paper dolls singing ring around the rosey a rose jumped over a pansy into a mud puddle with the sun in it Pan…. to the bathroom, the wall paper decorated with Christmas ornament stars repugnantly cheery to the degree of nostalgic depression A woman begins to disrobe ZOOM…. in to the unkempt shabby underarm and large perspiration tears on the enormous lit up breasts one dark ‘n one light light nearest the window, dark nearest the basin above an inadequate light fixture below the latter breastRead More →
One Man Sentence by Don Van Vliet
Inside the tubette on the small duplex tile shadow of my hand made a movie wolf head the dangling cigarette made a long fire tipped tube resembling a smoking fang which curled from his mouth to my mouth then slowly into the peeled back tiny mouths of the flaky enamel ceiling above my shaggy head a test of endurance metered by what with things changing this fast I drown the soggy creature threw his wet butt out of the bath tubette trembling as it was a small room with a very large open window he bounced and disappeared off the sill into morning aching andRead More →
The Beep Seal by Don Van Vliet
The beep seal I saw once as a child So life like it almost made me cry It stared with its eye glass and one glue bubble Caught on its whiskers Its mouth was closed So as not to insult the observer Its canine teeth were red plastic N’ its molars were stained green by straw Excluding it from the carnivoris and Putting it in the vegetarian bracket All of this I viewed from the mistake in The side of the jaw By pressing my cheek up close To the glass on the other side Of the red felt roped off area This side ofRead More →
Seam Crooked Sam by Don Van Vliet
The mule kicked off a new one and the stockings ran up Seam Crooked Sam bandana frock stuffed with smoke and ears out flopped like bowlin’ pins hog troughs hocked and wallered in cool mud bins and patent leather hooves split in twos rooms for rent down t’ Ben’s Frendsa danced in a frenzy choked a juke bird with froth glass ferns and turpentine urns her sawdust daily keep and whiskey creeps down her neck naked front and red leatherette peen button set where her fanny sweat raised her wrist-a-fan and a mouse coughed cotton through a screen door cracked sand rooms rent only toRead More →
The Smith That Clean Our Stars by Don Van Vliet
The smith that clean our stars The wolf head came off in night His paw plucked a mushroom and pawed a nest of bees A blade of grass trembled A water drop threatened – burst A felt ear curled back into pink His slick stocking face chrome lips puckered pursed Red balls fell out of a tiny screen Opened dot that shined and was licked away A yellow paraffin eyelid melted back into night velvet without sound Rested and reshaped… closed and hid the stair A tiny wooden door opened shut A polished knob grown dust in the dim hallway Meaty blond people danced atRead More →
Doped in stunned mirages by Don Van Vliet
It’s like a white onion-fleshed pumpkin tiny black eyes and round paper hairs laughing white collars minced muted in the huffing dry morning wind that jingled like fish bones… the black felt loam seeped hungrily and the waxy pepper stones puffed green tongued cactus with red hat thorny flowers seeped lazy in their thirst searching in their proteceted nakedness in the bottom of Arizona’s ocean… the sun stroked the grey fleshed drunk curtains and a lizard flipped off like a star of scales ‘n pukedafly of a yoke yellow throaty chirp… a senseless dust devil sucked the brush debris chimney soaring invisible waterfalls and drenchedRead More →