Original article titled, "The Clonemeister Speaks"
Be a Maestro at Work
Frank Zappa's daily work schedule was legendary, consuming nearly
every waking moment. Almost as grueling was the rehearsal schedule he
set for his band, which amounted to eight hours a day when they were
preparing for a tour. After bassist Arthur Barrows' first tour with
the band in 1978, Zappa bestowed upon him the title of Clonemeister,
which carried with it the awesome responsibility of running rehearsals
in Frank's absence. Here Barrows recounts some Mothers stories and
reveals his, uh . . . advanced rehearsal techniques:
Frank would always show up for the last four hours of rehearsal, and I would tape that part. He'd say to various band members, "Okay, now you do this here, and you make that fart noise there, and you do that here." So after the rehearsal I'd sit down with a notebook, listen to the tape again, and make notes about who was supposed to make what fart noises and stuff.
The next day, we'd start to rehearse that song, and of course everybody had forgotten where they were supposed to make the fart noises. So I'd stop and say, "Now don't forget, you were supposed to make that noise here," and they'd say, "Oh, right." You run it three or four times until everybody remembers where to put their noises. It was like being a drill sergeant, kind of.
Tweak the Plan to Your Liking
On one tour, Frank gave us this huge song list, with some ridiculous number of songs, like 200 songs. It was absurd, and I knew there was
no chance in hell that we'd ever learn them all. Of course, my
assignment was to teach them all to the band. I knew Frank well enough
by then to know that he'd come in, look at the song list, pick a song,
and say, "Let me hear THAT song." We'd play it, and if it sounded
crummy, he'd say, "Well, you can just take that one off the list!"
So
I rehearsed the band only on those songs that I liked. The songs that
I didn't care for were way down on my list, since I knew I couldn't do
them all anyway. Sure enough, he came in and asked for a tune that we
hadn't rehearsed. It stank, and he said, "Well, that sounds like shit.
You can just take that off the list." And I'd go, "All right, great!"
So we ended up with this tour of all my favorite Frank Zappa songs,
like Florentine Pogen, Inca Roads, and a bunch of other real cool
music.
When Frank was there at the rehearsal and inspired, he would write with the band the way someone else might write at the piano, or with a piece of score paper, or at a computer. He would yell out stuff, like do this, do that, go to A minor. After the band had been together awhile, it was like being able to talk to a computer and tell it how you want the song to go. It was really amazing how quickly he could get stuff together, and get really good players to interpret it and make it sound like Frank Zappa music.
He'd always keep us on our toes. About a month into the tour, you'd
think, "Okay, I've got this down, I can do it in my sleep." But just
then you'd hear, "Band meeting in Frank's room!" and Frank would tell us, "You guys
are getting too comfortable with this. We're going to change the whole
show tonight." So we'd do all this stuff that we hadn't done since
rehearsals a month before, and suddenly put together a whole new show.
Frank's just about the only guy who did not compromise his music at all, and still made a living at it. That's pretty amazing. Now that he's gone, I don't know if anyone else could do it. I didn't always like what he did, but by God, he was doing it his way.
The obscurities abound: While searching for a pic of Zappa to include in this article, I found a vid of Zappa's infamous "Bicycle Concerto," debuting in 1963 ...nothin' like that snappy, old school banter.
.
Source: http://www.science.uva.nl/~robbert/zappa/interviews/clonemeister.html
I stumbled upon this obscure article this morning about the late musician and composer, Frank Zappa (b.1940 - d.1993). It provides a snapshot into the creative process of an artist who knew what he wanted, and didn't care what people thought. I love studying process, how different people get things done. May we apply this kind of uncompromising focus to all our endeavors.
I stumbled upon this obscure article this morning about the late musician and composer, Frank Zappa (b.1940 - d.1993). It provides a snapshot into the creative process of an artist who knew what he wanted, and didn't care what people thought. I love studying process, how different people get things done. May we apply this kind of uncompromising focus to all our endeavors.
Be a Maestro at Work
Frank would always show up for the last four hours of rehearsal, and I would tape that part. He'd say to various band members, "Okay, now you do this here, and you make that fart noise there, and you do that here." So after the rehearsal I'd sit down with a notebook, listen to the tape again, and make notes about who was supposed to make what fart noises and stuff.
The next day, we'd start to rehearse that song, and of course everybody had forgotten where they were supposed to make the fart noises. So I'd stop and say, "Now don't forget, you were supposed to make that noise here," and they'd say, "Oh, right." You run it three or four times until everybody remembers where to put their noises. It was like being a drill sergeant, kind of.
Tweak the Plan to Your Liking
 | ||||
| Zappa testifying in the mid-80s before a PMRC hearing on music censorship, headed by Tipper Gore and the Washing- ton wives (sounds like a musical group). Few knew that Gore had been a drummer in an all-girl band named,"The Wildcats." | . |
When Frank was there at the rehearsal and inspired, he would write with the band the way someone else might write at the piano, or with a piece of score paper, or at a computer. He would yell out stuff, like do this, do that, go to A minor. After the band had been together awhile, it was like being able to talk to a computer and tell it how you want the song to go. It was really amazing how quickly he could get stuff together, and get really good players to interpret it and make it sound like Frank Zappa music.
Stay on Your Toes
He'd always keep us on our toes. About a month into the tour, you'd
think, "Okay, I've got this down, I can do it in my sleep." But just
then you'd hear, "Band meeting in Frank's room!" and Frank would tell us, "You guys
are getting too comfortable with this. We're going to change the whole
show tonight." So we'd do all this stuff that we hadn't done since
rehearsals a month before, and suddenly put together a whole new show.
Frank's just about the only guy who did not compromise his music at all, and still made a living at it. That's pretty amazing. Now that he's gone, I don't know if anyone else could do it. I didn't always like what he did, but by God, he was doing it his way.
The obscurities abound: While searching for a pic of Zappa to include in this article, I found a vid of Zappa's infamous "Bicycle Concerto," debuting in 1963 ...nothin' like that snappy, old school banter.
.
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