Frank Zappa
Burnt Weeny Sandwich

Igor Stravinsky (1882-1971)

Edgar Varèse (1883-1965)

George Gershwin (1898-1937)

John Cage (1912-1992)

György Ligeti (1923-2006)

Karlheinz Stockhausen (1928)

Frank Zappa (1940-1993)

(Pierre Boulez): ""As a musician Zappa was an exceptional figure, because he belonged to two worlds: that of pop music and that of classical music. And it is not a comfortable position".

No, comfortable it certainly is not, but it definitely contains potential evolutions which, if captured, followed, and grasped, can lead to creating a new musical world that leaves you speechless. Truly.

Take an album like this one, for example. Let's listen to it calmly and reflect on it a little... so, then... okay, okay, you can't easily distinguish what type of sounds are present... but in fact... well, you hear a bit of everything, I mean, you detect dozens and dozens of sound openings and musical influences. But they aren't detached from each other, that is, they are like superimposed: ... yes! superimposed! That's what it is: you imperceptibly detect all the various facets that make up the work, but in the end, what strikes is the superb mastery with which they are fused.

A mastery close to perfection. That is the point: before us, we have an enchanting unicum of myriads of notes and colorful staves that follows its path continuously and majestically. Not one blunder, not one mistake. No unnecessary beating around the bush. The rhythms are thousands, fresh, alive, and none clash with another. Perfect. A musical river absolutely perfect. And incredibly simple, incredibly simple! What to say about the work done by Frank's mind in this piece? That the grace of musical genius here completely came out of its nook, and walking decisively but relaxedly went towards the recording studio with a cigarette in hand and a sly smile on its face?...

"Hey Frank, where are you going?" "I'll tell you, Mother Ray, I’m going to the studio. I've sketched down some staves and I'll see if something good comes out... call the other Mothers..." .

Wow, what a great smooth operator you were, Frank! What to say about a piece like “The little house I used to live in”? That it is the masterpiece of a whole career? That it is the definitive summa of Frank's "total" art, all in a continuous and frenzied sonic movement in which everything appears perfectly clear? So... It starts with a piano. It’s Ian Underwood's. It continues... Thamm! Guitars, winds, keyboards start: the journey has definitely begun... Ta ra ra ra ttta! Ta ra ra ra ttta!... it continues, winds, guitar, then winds, keyboards... underneath there's always that double pounding drum... Go Jimmy!... Po pom! Po pom!... Go Art!... it seems to have its own soul... Then you arrive at THE endless orgasmic tumble, which starts acidic and slow and then jumps with the drums: it’s Harris's violin: electric and timeless, timeless. One of the most beautiful solos ever heard with any instrument... followed by Preston’s lucid madness on the piano... and then you reach that Zappa masterpiece which is the closure with electric organ and keyboards: it seems like a thousand notes coming out of the pipes, a thousand!.... Delirium.... applause.... wow!

Let's be clear: this was just a subtle hint at the Glorious 18:41 minutes of the song, a very subtle and insignificant hint... What about the playful album title? "Burnt Weeny Sandwich". It was a type of sandwich that Frank often loved to munch on. But let me understand... the two slices of white bread would be the two doo-wop tracks opening and closing the album, and the tasty meat and mustard filling is the exquisite part to savor? So we're there, with famished jaws ready to take big bites. Don’t worry Frank, we won’t leave even a crumb. We finish everything, from the ancestral piano of “Aybe Sea” to the splendid eponymous theme of the album, up to that absolute thrilling gem which is the guitar solo in “Holiday in Berlin”. We finish everything.... "An experimental American composer for orchestra, composed of every kind of instrument, playing the electric guitar with a lighted cigarette fixed on it..." What more is there to say?

Frank Zappa united multiple musical worlds, and that could only be a logical thing. Truly. The versatility of the human soul, its contradictions, but let's say it, also its simplicity and fundamental genuineness, are all part of this music, which has as its keyword Freedom. Only those who seek can reach something important, and Frank knew it: you have to think, not believe. Then the rest comes on its own. That’s all. And if someone feels like turning up their nose at music that simultaneously embraces rock, classical, jazz, avant-garde, noise-making, experimentalism, kitsch-comic-band music, blues, pop, use of synclavier, and god only knows what, well, that’s their business! Frank Zappa remains nevertheless one of the greatest Composers of the 20th century. Period.

A small note: this is the last album of the Mothers of Invention with Zappa (1970), and it was released posthumously after their break-up. It seems right to mention one by one all the members who with perfect harmony and abundant energy built this monumental granite of notes under the guidance of the mustached master. And who have, more generally, since the times of that earthquake which was "Freak Out," written a glorious page in music history. Hats off, Mothers! America Drinks and Goes Home...

Frank Zappa / guitar, organ, arranger, composer, keyboards, vocals, producer - Don Preston / bass, piano, keyboards - Jimmy Carl Black / percussion, drums - Lowell George / guitar - Roy Estrada / bass, vocals - Gabby Furggy / vocals - Bunk Gardner / horn, wind - Don "Sugarcane" Harris / violin, vocals - Jim Sherwood / guitar, vocals, wind - Art Tripp / drums - Ian Underwood / guitar, piano, keyboards, wind - Elliot Ingber / guitar (from freak out)