Author: Peter Podbrežnik
Artist: Zappa, Frank
Label: Rykodisc Records
Release: 1970
Rating: 4.5/5
With “Chunga’s Revenge,” maestro Frank strode decisively into the 70s and a creative era that splits many of his followers into those who count it as his most prolific and those who argue exactly the opposite and never could make peace with some of the radical sonic shifts, which for an artist of Frank’s caliber were simply business as usual and a logical next step for someone who never settled into any one musical form for long. In the first months of 1970, Frank put out “Burnt Weeny Sandwich” and “Weasels Ripped My Flesh,” two posthumous albums collecting some previously unreleased recordings of the original lineup of his backing band The Mothers Of Invention. Both still reflected his 60s avant-garde rock satire, with a hefty dose of grotesque musique concrète sounds and social and political burlesque. “Chunga’s Revenge,” though, already marked a new evolutionary phase in Frank’s career and a break both from his satirical avant-garde work with the original Mothers Of Invention and from the jazz rock fusion he’d demonstrated so brilliantly on the masterpiece “Hot Rats” (1969).
For “Chunga’s Revenge,” Frank gathered a completely new lineup of The Mothers Of Invention around him, who by then had shortened their name to just The Mothers. Alongside bassist Max Bennett, drummer John Guerin and organist Don “Sugarcane” Harris, who had already worked with him on “Hot Rats,” he beefed up the band with legendary British drummer Aynsley Dunbar (John Mayall, Jeff Beck, David Bowie, Lou Reed, Sammy Hagar, Jefferson Starship, UFO, Whitesnake, Joruney…just some of the names he worked with over his rich career), the no less impressive jazz keyboardist George Duke, and one of the most surprising and controversial picks of his career, the duo Flo & Eddie (real names Mark Volman and Howard Kaylan). The two were former members of 60s American pop icons The Turtles, who etched themselves into rock’n’roll history forever with the hit “Happy Together,” one of the best-known evergreens of the 60s. In his typical sarcastic fashion, Frank rechristened them Phlorescent Leech & Eddie. And of course, first place among all these musicians went to Frank’s longtime favorite, multi-instrumentalist Ian Underwood.
The main strength of “Chuga’s Revenge” is the stylistic eclecticism of the individual pieces, which span (and overreach) all the commonly known musical territories (mostly rock and jazz) Frank had experimented with on his earlier albums. There’s no shortage of instrumental jams, avant-garde and bluesy improvisations, there’s some jazz fusion in the mix, and, surprisingly, a few pop songs too, which are surely among the most commercial things of his career and do a lot for the album’s overall melodic feel (and the key players here were none other than Flo & Eddie). This time there’s no overt political satire in the lyrics. Most of them revolve around all sorts of sexual innuendo and close-encounter experiences with groupies, though Frank’s trademark twisted humor is certainly not missing. Honestly, about the last place where he could disappoint his devotees. As Frank claims in the liner notes, some of the pieces were meant as a kind of preview of the music for his next film project, “200 Motels” (1971). Even so, none of them showed up on that soundtrack, in original or any other form.
“Transylvania Boogie” is a great opener and definitely one of the most interesting in the sea of great instrumentals in Frank’s career. It’s really a punchy jam built on the interplay of Frank’s breathtaking guitar improvisations, no less interesting bass improvisations, and dreamy transitions on Dunbar’s drums. The opening guitar riff and the rather ominous organ sound really do conjure up the atmosphere of some horror flick at times. “Road Ladies” is a great blues rock parody with a melancholy organ intro and Frank’s mocking vocals, telling some juicy anecdotes about concert promoters, groupies and his own band, which plays “some of the most teribble shit you’ve ever known.” While Frank grinds out his “drunken” bluesy passages on lead guitar, Ian Underwood occasionally joins him on rhythm guitar. When bassist Jeff Simmons’ deliberately, pathetically fired-up soul vocal crashes in, the parody of blues rock, which by then had already seen its commercial decline, is perfect. The shorter, subtle instrumental “Twenty Small Cigars” came out of the “Hot Rats” sessions, and you can hear it right away, since it’s excellent jazz fusion with gorgeous passages on harp, piano, bass and guitar. In my opinion, which also happens to match the feelings of a fairly big fan of good jazz rock fusion, it’s one of the best pieces on the album, and the only shame is that it’s so short. Next comes the avant-garde jazz fusion improvisation “The Nancy & Mary Music,” which was played live and recorded during a gig in Minneapolis. Most of Frank’s improvisations are a feast for the ears of all lovers of instrumental virtuosity, and this one is no exception. The individual players lead the listener through a vivid sonic labyrinth: from Dunbar’s excellent drum solo and Frank’s quacking guitar passages to the masterful electric piano work of Underwood and Duke, with the “fluorescent leech” and his inseparable comrade Eddie screeching and mugging in between.
“Tell Me You Love Me” is a melodic hard rocker, one of Frank’s most commercially accessible pieces ever, and it could even have been a hit if you took away the “bastardized” element. Besides the punchy guitar riff, melodic chorus and booming bass, it also has typical hard rock vocal harmonies courtesy of Flo & Eddie. It’s a logical and fairly entertaining satirical answer to the then-wildly popular, freshly born hard rock, though I personally find his more commercially accessible stuff far less fascinating than the more avant-garde experimental compositions. “Would You Go All The Way?” is a pop rock parody with satirical lyrics at the expense of loose women, deliberately off-key vocal harmonies, bouncy drums and Frank’s characteristic guitar passages, which only really win you over as a burlesque after Duke’s excellent trombone contribution. Then comes the title track, which tells of a gypsy mutant vacuum cleaner that returns to the gypsy camp to take revenge on its former owners. Personally, I’ve always been more drawn to this kind of absurd, half sci-fi lyric with veiled social satire than to the more open and direct socio-political satirizing. Despite that concept, which is also wittily illustrated in the album booklet, it’s not a vocal piece but an excellent jazz rock fusion instrumental with thrilling guitar passages from Frank, making extensive use of the wah-wah pedal, while among the other players Underwood on sax and Dunbar with his vivid, energetic drum artistry really shine. I’d say this piece is the peak of the album. On the short instrumental “The Clap,” Frank also steps out for the first time as a solo percussionist, and in this role, so atypical for him, he really lets loose, especially when it comes to pounding on wooden percussion and tom-toms.
“Rudy Wants To Buy Yez a Drink” is, in my view, the funniest and most successful burlesque on the album, a great pop rock parody with satirical lyrics skewering the average mentality and behavior of rock stars and their loose-living entourage. Even the way it’s sung makes you laugh, and the trombone and tambourine only crank up the grimacing, black-humor mood. The closing pop rocker “Sharleena,” dedicated to one of the local groupies (who most likely replaced Frank’s favorite up to then, Suzi Creamcheese), is in my opinion the best and artistically most varied pop rock piece on the album, with great, dreamy vocal harmonies, a melodic chorus, deliberately pathetic lyrics, and tasteful jazzy passages and transitions on guitar, bass, sax and drums. Even though it’s conceived as pure tomfoolery and a parody of pop/hard rock ballads, it comes off as slightly melancholy and has considerable commercial potential, so it’ll win over even those who aren’t among Frank’s traditional listeners.
“Chunga’s Revenge” is, in my opinion, one of Frank’s most accessible albums from his early period, mainly thanks to a somewhat larger number of satirical yet melodic pop songs than most people are used to from him (“Teel Me You Love Me” and “Sharleena” could even have become hits in a slightly more “uniform” version). At the same time, the album is eclectic enough to please most fans of his progressive rock experimentalism. Those who especially prize Frank’s role as a social critic and his merciless political satirical barbs were surely a bit less thrilled by the album, whereas I think it was more than welcome that here he eased up (temporarily, of course) on his uncompromising lashing out at decadent American society and instead amused himself with some (often pathetic) social clichés about the classic dude-chick dynamic, still finding time for an absurd tale of a vengeful gypsy mutant vacuum cleaner, the kind only he could have dreamed up.
Lineup
Frank Zappa – guitar, vocals, percussion
Ian Underwood – piano, electric piano, organ, alto sax, sax with wah-wah pedal, tenor sax, rhythm guitar
George Duke -electric piano, organ, trombone, imitations of vocals and drums
Don “Sugarcane” Harris – organ
Jeff Simmons – bass guitar, vocals
Max Bennett – bass guitar
Aynsley Dunbar – drums, tambourine
John Guerin – drums
Mark Volman – vocals
Howard Kaylan – vocals
Production
Frank Zappa
Tracklist
1. Transylvania Boogie (5:01)
2. Road Ladies (4:10)
3. Twenty Small Cigars (2:17)
4. The Nancy & Mary Music (9:27)
5. Tell Me You Love Me (2:33)
6. Would You Go All The Way? (2:29)
7. Chunga’s Revenge (6:15)
8. The Clap (1:23)
9. Rudy Wants To Buy Yez A Drink (2:44)
10. Sharleena (4:03)
Album length: 40:22
