My very permanent (as it turns out) decision to get a Zappa tattoo this past summer has given me the itch to write more Zappa reviews! An itch that is both literal and figurative. New tattoos are itchy, man. But that’s all in the past! I have the rest of my life now to look back on how I ended the 2010’s by paying someone money to eternally disfigure my perfect body while I hyperventilated nerdily.

Despite my personal, fanatical feelings toward Zappa, I want to make it clear that I don’t consider him to be a genius. I used to think he was, of course, but I don’t anymore. Unless a musician is constantly innovating and inventing, balancing accessibility with challenge, and keeping consistency, I’d be hard pressed to call anybody a genius. Nobody’s that good. In Zappa’s case, the “genius” label likely comes from his adequate mastery of multiple musical styles, which is inherent in his diverse range of interests. People will be quick to confuse a diverse artist for a genuine savant. No one will call AC/DC geniuses because they mastered one style and released the same record 15 times, but these same people may call David Bowie one (who is not a genius either).

Frank Zappa’s modern classical and doo-wop influences weren’t typical of his contemporaries, so his approach to anything would be understandably atypical as well. That’s why this “soundtrack” album of orchestral pieces mixed with rock music exists. If nothing else, Zappa had some instincts and was never afraid to go with his gut…but don’t call him a genius. This album, and the movie that inspired the music, are lauded by some as “genius” level. It’s actually not really that good in the first place! That’s the kind of problem everyone forgets to mention, and why I find it apt to bring it up now. 200 Motels is a deep cut in the catalog, but most hardcore fans far enough down the rabbit hole to come across this album will usually cite it in their defense for Zappa’s “genius” status. Meh. I don’t agree. In fact, if I were attempting to advertise Zappa’s “genius” I’d steer clear of this album entirely. It’s not a good argument for it.

Let’s talk about the movie first. Gotta give the music some context, no? Not just for you, but for me as well! I’ve never fucking seen it and I don’t wanna. Wikipedia here I come…ok, 200 Motels (the movie) is a film that “...attempts to portray the craziness of life on the road as a rock musician, and as such consists of a series of unconnected nonsense vignettes interspersed with concert footage of the Mothers of Invention.” OK, I’m going to stop right there because it’s not going to help clarify anything further. On paper it sounds an awful lot like the Uncle Meat movie, which was a thinly veiled life-on-the-road documentary wrapped with a bizarre sci-fi narrative. I think these young fresh fellows assumed their lives were much more interesting than reality and decided that everyone else wanted to know about it, so Zappa tried once more with 200 Motels and, since history repeats itself, failed again.

Now that’s not a huge loss, right? The Uncle Meat movie was supposedly a garbage turd from shit hell and the accompanying album was nearly perfect, right? Surely the same applies in this case??? Ha! No! In its favor, 200 Motels (the album) is not a life-on-the-road documentary. That will come 20 years later as the (sorta shitty) Flo/Eddie-era archival double CD Playground Psychotics. What this actually is, it’s about 90 minutes of surprisingly sophisticated orchestral arrangements woven into a mix of rock and comedy music. And what that actually means, it’s a tapestry of weak and mildly interesting orchestra music surrounded by low-brow butt rock and juvenile humor. So if you loved the Fillmore East – June 1971 album…you may actually like this even less due to the orchestra music, honestly. There’s an awful lot of it.

The orchestra music in of itself isn’t bad, but it’s certainly not too exciting and within the context of the final 200 Motels product it almost feels like it’s in the way of the rest of the music. I can’t think of many other albums that intersperse rock and roll tracks with orchestra music, but if this is THE BEST EXAMPLE IN THE WORLD then it falls flat anyway because the orchestral bits suck the life out of the project. Now, mind you, if these bits were as interesting as the odds and ends that made up the Burnt Weeny Sandwich album then I’d be whistling a different tune, but I’d be a filthy fucking liar if I elevated any of this stuff to Burnt Weeny Sandwich levels of output. Sorry.

And the rock songs? Flo and Eddie, of course, means you can knock off 150 points, but a lot of this stuff isn’t as overtly bad as the material on Fillmore East – June 1971. “Mystery Roach”, “Lonesome Cowboy Burt”, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy”, “What Will This Evening Bring Me This Morning” and “Magic Fingers” all sound like solid Chunga’s Revenge outtakes, and where some of the subject matter gets revoltingly crass it gets made up for with, like, actual good melodies. The bad stuff is bad though, like “Shove It Right In”, which is yet another song about groupie fucking but sung all slow and sophisticated like it’s not about groupie fucking. And then there’s stuff like “Penis Dimension” and “Dental Hygiene Dilemma” that continues the Flo/Eddie and Co. suck-ass comic routine that goes on for too long, the former being a small dick joke and the latter being one big convoluted in-joke about Zappa’s bassist Jeff Simmons complaining about being in the band because Zappa actually did record him complaining about being in the band for real once and then he made Simmons complain about being in the band for his movie, and then Simmons “quits” but he doesn’t really. Sounds hilarious, doesn’t it? I can’t stop laughing.

And then there’s the stuff that’s less orchestral bits and rock songs and more stage antics translated to audio, which doesn’t work quite well as you might imagine. This is mostly segregated to the last half of disc two, starting with “The Lad Searches the Night for His Newts” and ending with “Little Green Scratchy Sweaters & Courduroy Ponce”. I’m not even going to pretend I know what the hell is going on with any of it, and I won’t waste any further time talking about it!

The finale is a Zappa staple: “Strictly Genteel”. It’s one of the very few arrangements Zappa ever made with some actual heart, and it would make the rounds here and there at live shows up until Zappa’s death. This version, however, is the worst one, as it begins with a monologue by Thoedore Bikel of Fiddler on the Roof fame and then continues on with lyrics that future versions would omit completely (“Lord have mercy on the hippies and the faggots/And the dykes and the weird little children they grow” ….yeah…). After the tune is properly over, though, a blues breakdown occurs with more Flo and Eddie filling your ears with their wiseguy garbage that goes on for five minutes.

A few bonus tracks of radio advertisements for the film are tacked on to the end of the album, followed by a radio edit for “Magic Fingers”.

So, yeah, that’s it. And this is all coming from me, the guy who thinks Zappa shat gold during his lifetime. Go listen to 200 Motels and try, just try as hard as you can, to make a case for “genius” using this album as your only frame of reference. Luckily for all of us, the Flo and Eddie years are almost over. Just one more shitty album left to go.

KINDA BAD