In 1980, as a 15-year old I had been reading Lester
Bangs' articles about Captain Beefheart in "Musician" magazine (which
turned out to be amazingly accurate and descriptive), and was quite
interested to learn more about what this supposedly amazing music
sounded like. However, I didn't have the money to actually buy the
records - and believe me, noone else in Sparta, Illinois had them
to loan to me. One night I was interested to notice in our T.V.
Guide that Beefheart was playing on that night's "Saturday Night
Live", a show which my parents wouldn't let me watch (although they
did watch it themselves). Remember, this was before VCRs were common
- I had no way of seeing the Captain's performance that night, but
determined that I would get as much information about it second-hand
as I could from my parents and whatever friends were able to watch
the show.
The next day, I asked my parents about the show.
They told me that it had been particularly terrible, and that I
really wasn't missing anything funny by not being allowed to watch
it. (This was a common reaction to that particular show; it was
later mentioned in print as being the all-around worst show aired
to that date). I then asked them what they had thought of the musical
guest, Captain Beefheart, and what his performance was like.
At the very mention of Beefheart, my parents reacted
with dismay. They told me that he appeared to be a madman, and that
he had assaulted their ears with his "crazy" music not once but
twice during the course of the show. They expressed to me in no
uncertain terms that his music had no value whatsoever, and that
you probably had to be on some kind of drug(s) to get anything out
of it. (They frequently stated this opinion during my teenage years
about music which I was playing that had abstract or artsy tendancies
about it). Beyond that they refused to speak of it. They were clearly
not happy to know that I had any interest in this rather shocking
maniac, much less that I was seriously inquiring about the characteristics
of his music. Unwittingly, the Captain had violently offended their
sensibilities.
Years later I got the records and made my own decision.
When I finally saw the Saturday Night Live footage for myself, after
years of studying Beefheart's music, I was blown away by its power;
it's a brilliant performance the likes of which has rarely graced
American popular culture. Were the seeds of my Beefheart obsession
sewn on that fateful day when my parents reproached me for even
knowing who the Captain was? I don't think so. But who knows.