It was a Saturday afternoon when my cell phone rang. I glanced at the mobile device and saw that it was my concubine man-boy sexy, large breasted girlfriend calling; she was vacationing with her friends for the weekend. In my usual smooth and silky demeanor I answered the phone, only to get bitch slapped with a question that few partners are rarely even consulted on: “Hey, I have a question, how would you feel about me competing in a wet T-shirt contest tonight?”. If only I had larger hands to exemplify the EPIC FACEPALM that my emotions performed. It would not be until the next morning when she’d describe to me her relief in not actually deciding to participate in the competition, a regret that her girlfriends would have to digest for the remainder of their existence. My girlfriend, thinking I would be shocked, later revealed, “Oh my God, did you know that these girls get completely naked and giggle their asses off on stage?”. Yes…yes, I did know. So did every single other person who showed up at that event. Especially “this guy”:

My girlfriend’s brush with skankiness left the gears in my brain spinning and so the rejected archeologist within compelled me to dig up the lineage of such a competition. The Phantom Menace of the transparent T-shirt exhibition, if you will, only minus that doucher Jar Jar Binks.

For one to really place a pecker on the origin of the concept is equivalent to trying to find out which person in the orgy had those red bumps first. While rumors run rampant that American cinemas are responsible for birthing the craze, while others point the finger at foreign cultures. Me, I take a more scientific approach to the research: I type “wet T-shirt contest” in Google Images and then black out due to the sheer awesomeness of my fieldwork.

Like I mentioned, early speculations first lead our map pins to Spain, the land of… Spaniards, I guess. Many suggest that the wet T-shirt concept originated around the same time as the Tomatina tradition began (started in 1945, but not officially recognized until 1952). Though the equation seems pretty logical -food fight + wet items being thrown + women in tee shirts = GOOAAALLL- it’s hard to find much else in evidence, leading one to only assume that somehow the concept hadn’t caught fire yet.

It's all fun and games until someone gets a boner and dies.

It wouldn’t be until the mid 70s that the wet T-shirt craze would finally begin to make a name for itself in the United States. For once it seemed that young, vivacious women had found a somewhat socially acceptable outlet for their talents of making old men howl -and it didn’t even involve burning dinner. Publications from 1975, like The Palm Beach Post, reveled in the excitement of the contests and participants were even interviewed by local papers, giving first-hand praise of their experiences. Not quite as sexy as The Family Circus, but still groundbreaking journalism nonetheless.

“It’s fantastic,” said maxi winner Debbie Tomlinson, a buxom 24-year-old brunette who doffed her top and collected her second win in a contest at Cord’s Underground Sunday. “I’ll do it again wherever there’s another on,” she said.

Red-haired Tammy Ward, 18, whose suggestive writhing helped her win the mini prize in her first try said, “It was a lot of fun. I was a little embarrassed at first but I got over it.”

And got over it she did. Unfortunetly Tammy had anticipated “A Father’s Love” as the mini prize -not so. Sorry Tammy, better luck next year.

Three cheers for women's suffrage: Hipp-hipp hooray!

As popular as the craze was becoming, it wasn’t until the mainstream media caught on that the wet T-shirt contest became a household fantasy. Thanks to popular films like 1977’s The Deep, in which its opening scene is beauty Jacqueline Bisset swimming through the ocean in a translucent “tee”, the idea was picking up momentum at a boner-inducing rate.

Jacqueline Bisset’s appearance in the film ‘The Deep’ in 1977, when she was filmed underwater and surfacing in a white t-shirt, would have helped to bring wet t-shirt contests to greater prominence.

In 1978 we saw the film ‘I was a Contestant at Mothers Wet T-shirt Competition’. [source]

Thank you, sir! May I have another?

Popular music took note as well of the wet T-shirt contest. In 1979, Frank Zappa released the track “Fembot In A Wet T-Shirt” on his album Joe’s Garage: Acts I, II & III. The song featured such genius lyrics as:

And they’re ready to party
Cause the sign outside says it’s WET T-SHIRT NITE
‘N’ they all crave some Hot delight
Well the girls are excited
Because in a minute
They’re gonna get wet
‘N’ the boys are delighted
Because all the titties
Will get ’em upset

And so the excitement continued to swell when it came to women parading themselves on stage soaking wet from the chest to the hips. The 80s welcomed more and more displays of competitions, as social acceptance spread further and further. Oversees the United Kingdom even began using the contests as a means of finding new “Page 3″ models (NSFW to google). Both Stacey Owen (NSFW to google) and Debbie Quorell (NSFW to google) were discovered in this way, though I’m sure their striking personalities were just as endearing.
*cough* Bullsh-t! *cough*

But just like any misunderstood art form, the wet T-shirt contest has always drawn criticism ever since its inception. Right wing conservatives and activists alike have always viewed the dripping wet exhibitions as crass and demeaning (no idea why?). Whether you’re a Jaycee member from ’77 receiving a suspension for participating in the excitement of an event or a group of Oregon teens celebrating at 30,000 feet with their flight captain, the stigma of drenched T-shirts have always been associated with irresponsibility, despite the setting or appropriateness of the occasion.

So take note people, the wet T-shirt contest is here to stay. Though we’ve long outlived the innocence and nostalgic essence that existed at the beginning of the movement, the events still stand as testaments of good times and lots of booze. As the raunchiness of the competitions continue to rise, just remember to take pride in your physical beauty and be proud of what your mother gave you. I am after all a guy and despite my throbbing intelligence, even that can’t sway me from the excitement of a wet T-shirt contest. Heed my girlfriend’s warning though, you may find yourself attached to the stigma if you do so decide to participate, but please remember that scantily clad women are an integral part of our ecosystem and you’re doing your part to help balance the scales of life. Take pride in your exhibitionism and proudly stand your place atop that stage, ladies. Just be sure that if you are going to do it, by all means please do it right.

It’s Arrested Development Day. Well, the Day Before Arrested Development Day, technically, but shut up. All I can think about is Arrested Development, it being Day Before Arrested Development Day and all, and how in only a few short hours, we’ll soon be enjoying the company of Franklin and George Michael and Lindsay all over again.

That being said, here is a quilt Frank Zappa made out of women’s underwear.

Full story here, but even without context, that’s as hot as a rat.

(Via Reddit)

There have been rumors circulating the Internet recently that Packers quarterback Aaron Rodgers may be gay. Though these rumors started out as baseless conjecture from sports blogs wanting to glom onto any scrap of news during a traditionally slow period in sports journalism, Kissing Suzy Kolber has learned that Aaron Rodgers has a previously unknown son from a relationship with musician Frank Zappa.  The man goes by the name Tom Wrigglesworth, and seems to be making a living as a comedian in Great Britain.

[via]

As expected, Aaron Rodgers and Frank Zappa have remained mum on the subject, though Wrigglesworth seems to be pleased that he’s finally found his daddy.

The jury is still out, however, on whether or not his daddies will be found in the audience during Tom’s upcoming comedy tour for a tearful surprise reunion. We can only hope.

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Music legend Frank Zappa would have been 74 years old today. To celebrate the date we’re taking a look at some of the more overlooked (and gleefully weird) albums of his lengthy career. Most people are familiar with the genius of Freak Out!, Hot Rats, and Joe’s Garage, but have probably neglected to travel past. So to rectify that, here are some fascinating Zappa albums that haven’t gotten the same love over the years, but are worth your time nonetheless.

1. Lumpy Gravy – 1968

This one is as experimental to say the least. As with Hot Rats, it’s an instrumental record, but whereas that record was more rooted in free-form jazz, this album veers all over the place. Some moments are jazzy, others feel almost classical; some moments are perfectly pleasant, others would drive the party out of the room. While not exactly a critical favorite, this record certainly has its fans, and if you’re interested in completely understanding the scope of Zappa’s ambition, it’s as essential as anything else he’s recorded.

2. Does Humor Belong In Music? – 1984

A cursory glance at some of the titles Zappa has given his albums and songs over the years should tell you that he has quite a wacky sense of humor, but with this album, he essentially invents the genre of Comedy Rock, or in his case, Jazz Progressive Fusion Comedy Rock. Zappa cracks some one-liners over the course of the recording, and there are some wacky sound effects along the way. Mostly, though, this is an expertly played record that happens to have a foot in the world of comedy. In any case, it’s worth checking out.

Getty Image / Karl Walter

Fans of The Replacements were disappointed last weekend, when the band’s reunion tour abruptly ended. It was a refreshing reminder of their unpredictability and volatility, which got us thinking about one of the band’s seminal moments: their 1986 appearance on Saturday Night Live. Always known for being loud, sloppy, and not particularly sober, they lived up to that reputation on the SNL stage. They were drunk, forgot the verses to their songs, and guitarist Bob Stinson dropped an f-bomb. They were then promptly banned from the show — although Paul Westerberg did return as a solo artist in 1993. Of course, the Replacements were not the only musical guest to be kicked off the SNL stage. With that in mind, let’s look at six other artists who were banned from Saturday Night Live.

Cypress Hill

When you book a rap group with a single called “Hits From The Bong,” it can’t be too surprising when one of their members decides to smoke a joint in the middle of a performance. Nonetheless, Lorne Michaels was none too pleased when DJ Muggs decided to light up a joint during the band’s performance of “Ain’t Goin’ Out Like That.” Muggs was angered after SNL specifically told him not to light his joint, and that’s what inspired him to do it. He also trashed a set of conga drums at the end of the performance, but realistically, the weed was probably the big reason for the ban.

Rage Against The Machine

When you book Rage Against the machine as the SNL musical guest, it would seem like a strange idea to pair them with Steve Forbes, who, as a Republican billionaire, is about as close to a human embodiment of The Machine as one can get. The band decided to hang American flags over their amplifiers as a means of protesting Forbes. The flags were removed shortly before the band took the stage to play “Bulls On Parade,” and they were forced to leave the building after their lone performance.

Sinead O’Connor

Probably the most famous example on this. In 1992, after a performance of the song “War,” O’Connor ripped up a picture of Pope John Paul II while shouting “fight the real enemy!” The backlash against O’Connor was furious, as she was booed three weeks later at a Bob Dylan tribute concert. Interestingly, O’Connor’s stunt might have distracted people from shots Tim Robbins took at General Electric, owners of NBC, in his monologue. This was certainly one of the most rebellious shows SNL ever did.

Elvis Costello

Lorne is not a big fan of improvisation on his show, and that’s why what Costello did put him through the roof. Costello and the Attractions began playing “Less Than Zero,” then abruptly stopped, saying “there’s no reason to play this song here,” likely because the song’s references to British politics would be lost on American audiences. The band launched into “Radio Radio” instead. Not pleased, Lorne banned them from the show, but it would prove to not be permanent, as Costello would return to SNL in 1989, when “Veronica” gave him the biggest hit of his career. The infamous incident would be referenced at SNL’s 25th anniversary, when Costello interrupted a Beastie Boys performance of “Sabotage,” and played “Radio Radio” with the band.

Fear

The legendary punks were booked after John Belushi convinced producer Dick Ebersol to let them on. Things…. did not go well. The band started their second performance by saying “it’s great to be here in Jersey,” which earned them boos from the crowd. They destroyed equipment, bussed in “dancers” for the performance, and played songs with offensive lyrics. As the band was about to play “Let’s Have A War,” their fourth straight song, the song faded into commercial. The band had done $20,000 worth of damage, although singer Lee Ving would tell the New York Post that it was $500,000. Fear may not have been the best choice for SNL, but it’s hard to deny that what they did was pretty punk rock.

Frank Zappa

While undeniably a brilliant musician, Zappa was not particularly popular as the host of SNL in 1978. He made his cue-card-reading gratuitously obvious, and generally hammed things up in a not-particularly likeable way. During the goodnights, the cast made a point of standing as far away from his possible.

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It’s a good time for fans of musical documentaries. Netflix recently released a documentary about Nina Simone, and they also have announced a release date for a new documentary about Keith Richards. Kurt Cobain: Montage of Heck also hit it big for HBO. Well, Frank Zappa will now finally get the documentary that he’s long deserved. Also, it is being directed by Alex Winter, known to most as Bill S. Preston, Esq. from the Bill and Ted movies.

Zappa was a very unusual, idiosyncratic guy, and you don’t need to look further than the names of his children to know that. He made a lot of songs built on silly, juvenile humor, but he was also an extremely meticulous musician who composed orchestral pieces and was diligent at studying jazz. Also, he was a huge fan of Mystery Science Theater 3000, which is always a point in somebody’s favor. In short, he had an interesting life that would lend itself to a great documentary.

While Winter is still mostly known for acting alongside Keanu Reeves as our nation’s greatest time-traveling teens, he’s done quite a bit of directing, as well, including a couple of documentaries. “There has yet to be a definitive, authorized documentary on the extraordinary life and work of Frank Zappa. I am beyond thrilled to be embarking on this journey,” said Winter. The movie isn’t expected to be out until 2017, so it will be a couple years until we find out if this movie is… excellent, or bogus. Zappa, who died in 1993 due to prostate cancer, obviously can’t be part of the film, but there will surely be plenty of interesting people ready to talk about his interesting life. Here’s hoping Mike Nesmith makes an appearance, perhaps as Frank Zappa.

(Via Consequence of Sound)

John Kricfalusi moved to Los Angeles by way of Ottawa in his early 20s. As an artist and animator, he grew up admiring the work of Tex Avery and Bob Clampett, but in L.A., he was growing tired of the cartoons he was tasked with. “I worked on the worst stuff you’ve ever seen in your life,” he told the New York Times in 1992. “Have you ever seen the Filmation Tom and Jerrys? They ruined Tom and Jerry, they ruined Droopy, they ruined Mighty Mouse. I helped ruin all those characters.”

After working on The New Adventures of Mighty Mouse for CBS, Kricfalusi started his own production company, Spumco. One of the first ideas he pitched to the three networks was The Ren & Stimpy Show, a program about the misadventures of a temperamental chihuahua and an absent-minded cat. The networks passed on the show, but Vanessa Coffey — the executive producer of animation for Nickelodeon — was smitten with Kricfalusi’s pitch, and after another meeting with executives of Nickelodeon, Ren & Stimpy was given a green light.

The Ren & Stimpy Show was a huge hit for the kids’ cable channel, appealing to both kids and adults. Its initial 1991 season netted the show an Emmy nomination for Outstanding Animated Program. The show wasn’t without its detractors, though. Some deemed the show’s humor crude, and offensive to children. In a letter to the Parents Television Council, one viewer described the show as funny, but entirely inappropriate for the younger generation.

For example, I remember coming across Ren & Stimpy on Nickelodeon, and the episode in question had to do with the comparison of the smell of animal feces with two different brands of kitty litter. Now I would be less than honest if I did not say that I personally found this episode uproariously funny from an adult point of view. But I cannot see for the life of me why a network like Nickelodeon would ever allow content like this to be shown to children. Is this the kind of thing that we want our children to see? What were these people thinking?

For the premiere episode of Ren & Stimpy‘s second season, Kricfalusi and his team decided to push the envelope a little bit further. “In the Army/Powdered Toast Man” premiered in August 1992. The second half of the episode focused on Powdered Toast Man (voiced by Gary Owens), a pastor and government clerk by day who moonlights as a superhero. There are some dark moments in the cartoon that would likely not fly by today’s standards, as when he shoots down a passenger flight in order to save a kitten. (The injured survivors of the plane crash still cheer him on.)

It’s Powdered Toast Man’s second act of heroism that resulted in one of the more controversial segments in the series. Our obtuse hero is called upon to rescue the Pope (Frank Zappa), who is tied to a barrel of TNT by an evil fish with a top hat. He rescues the Pope from imminent death, and proceeds to fly away with him on his back. Fearing that fall off of Powdered Toast Man, the Pope grabs and then buries his face in the hero’s butt. Yes, the Pope put his face in the ass of a superhero. The segment ended with another controversial moment: Powdered Toast Man burns the Constitution and Bill of Rights.

In response to the backlash of the episode, further airings featured the Pope without the cross on his hat, and in the credits, his name was changed to “The Man with the Pointy Hat” to appease religious groups upset with the depiction of the Catholic figure. The episode wouldn’t be the last time Kricfalusi and the Spumco team got in hot water over their material. A later episode, “Man’s Best Friend,” featured a scene in which Ren almost beats a man named George Liquor to death. Nickelodeon banned the episode, and fired the entire Spumco team. That episode would finally air on Spike’s Adult Party Cartoon almost a decade later. 

It’ll be interesting to see if Nickelodeon airs the Powdered Toast Man segment now that Ren & Stimpy is returning to the Splat block of programming, but just the plane crash scene alone will likely keep it from appearing on the channel again. As for the depiction of the Pope, it would be nice to think that during Pope Francis’ downtime here in the states, someone handed him a tablet with that episode loaded up.

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Frank Zappa was one of those musicians that almost everyone’s heard of, but few readily know his songs. The legendarily eccentric musician who would’ve turned 75 today, was a radical musical outsider, releasing more than 60 records over his 30-year career, drawing from influences that spanned from classical music to free form jazz to rhythm and blues, often on a single album. At the heart of his prolific creativity, Zappa was also a renowned political activist. An outspoken proponent of the arts, he was both strongly anti-conformist and fiercely anti-censorship.

It was in the fall of 1985 that Zappa got his first big moment in the political spotlight. That year, a group informally known as The Washington Wives were looking to increase parental involvement over their children’s access to music. The group, which included Tipper Gore, wife of then-Senator Al Gore, had a clear-cut goal in mind to put pressure on the Recording Industry Associates of America (RIAA) into a series of regulations, including voluntarily labeling albums that contained explicit lyrics or cover art, similar to the way the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA) rated movies based on content.

This led to the forming of a committee known as the Parents Music Resource Center (PMRC), who aimed to influence their set of standards within the RIAA itself. Armed with a list of songs known as “The Filthy Fifteen” (which included everyone from Prince to Judas Priest), the PMRC suggested that the RIAA create and enforce these numerous proposed standards themselves, which included everything from warning labels, lack of airplay for songs deemed explicit, and even to reassess the contracts of controversial performers in an attempt to discourage such behavior both on stage and on record.

Zappa, whose own discography defiantly blurred the lines between rock, jazz and classical music, saw himself as a pro-capitalist entrepreneur who believed what the PMRC was suggesting was nothing more than the beginning of watered-down censorship, which he believed to be in direct conflict with his First Amendment rights as both an artist and performer. Fiercely opposed to their proposals, Zappa, along with fellow musicians John Denver and Twisted Sister’s Dee Snider, testified to a Senate committee hearing to speak out against the intentions of the PMRC. While all three of their testimonies were important, it was Zappa’s that stole the show.

Reading from a condensed version of a prepared statement that was a scathing criticism of the PMRC, Zappa called the whole ordeal “an ill-conceived piece of nonsense” that “treated dandruff by decapitation.” He also readily suggested that the hearings existed solely for the RIAA to push through a blank tape tax, which they did that same year. Zappa opened by reciting the First Amendment, which he believed was in danger of being put through the “family paper shredder” should these proposed suggestions be put in place.

Taken as a whole, the complete list of PMRC demands reads like an instruction manual for some sinister kind of toilet training program to house-break all composers and performers because of the lyrics of a few.

Not limiting himself to criticizing what he saw as blatant government overreach, Zappa suggested that the committee’s efforts would better be spent by focusing on music education in schools, stating that children had a “right to know that something besides pop music exists.” He went on to speculate on the kind of precedent that would be set by putting a voluntary ratings system in place, suggesting hypothetically that any material written by a Jewish performer could be released with a letter J on the front so as to “save helpless children from exposure to concealed Zionist doctrine.”

Despite Zappa’s staunch and forthright seriousness on the matter overall, there were some lighter moments, such as Al Gore professing his fandom for Zappa on a personal level, as well as then-Senator Jim Exon asking if he had performed with either Glenn Miller or Mitch Miller. Zappa, as it turned out, had taken some lessons with Miller’s brother as a grade-schooler. Exon laughed, calling it “the first sign of hope in this hearing.”

While his entire statement, as his followup back-and-forth with Gore, is filled with delightful, distinctly opinionated insights that can be read in its entirety here, there’s also a full 35-minute video of his testimony, which is absolutely worth taking the time to watch in full.

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Along with testimony from Zappa, who disregarded the entire ordeal as political posturing, both for the aforementioned blank tape tax and to elevate the visibility of Al Gore prior to his presidential ambitions, Denver and Snider spoke about the misinterpretation of their lyrics. Denver cited his often misunderstood “Rocky Mountain High,” while Snider, too, spoke about lyrical interpretation, referring to the Twisted Sister song “Under the Knife,” which had been singled out by the committee. Snider maintained the lyrics were about a bandmate’s surgical proceedings, before adding that “Ms. Gore was looking for sadomasochism and bondage, and she found it.”

As a result of the hearing, the RIAA did agree to put the now ubiquitous Parental Advisory stickers on albums that they deemed to have explicit content, eventually leading to both ‘dirty’ and ‘clean’ versions of explicit albums, the latter being packaged for big-box stores that would refuse to carry such albums otherwise. Interestingly, one of the first albums to receive such a warning label was Zappa’s 1986 release Jazz From Hell, which did a song titled “G-Spot Tornado,” though the album itself was entirely instrumental — echoing the 1958 censorship of Link Wray’s “Rumble,” which was said to have been over fears of inciting violence, despite it also being an instrumental.

In the years that followed, the PMRC inspired a number of off-color references across several musical genres, while Zappa, as always, took it one step further. Using audio excerpts of the hearing and setting them to Synclavier music for the song “Porn Wars,” Zappa included the track on his album Frank Zappa Meets The Mothers of Invention, released in 1985, not long after the hearing itself. When not busy making music, Zappa remained as politically active as ever, appearing on programs like Crossfire where he continued to defend his right to creative freedom, as well as music’s role in society at large. A true believer in the Democratic process, he encouraged fans to vote throughout his career, and his 1988 tour even had voter registration booths, and had himself considering running for President in the 1992 election.

His political ambitions were cut short, unfortunately, as he was diagnosed with inoperable prostate cancer in 1990, and would succumb to the disease three years later. His wife, Gail, posthumously released Congress Shall Make No Law… in 2010 to commemorate the 25th anniversary of the PMRC hearings. A spoken-word album that contains her husband’s entire testimony made in 1985, as well as interview soundbites of him speaking out against censorship at various times during his career. This included a testimony that the Baltimore native gave to the Maryland State Legislature in 1986, which itself helped to prevent a law that would have made selling albums with explicit content to children a crime, something he saw as a victory for himself and for creative freedom.

Gail Zappa has said that the album exists to serve as an educational work that represents the “tireless commitment to the First Amendment which he felt was his duty to protect by providing (in his words) ‘stimulating digital audio entertainment’ in the form of ‘material which a truly free society would neither fear nor suppress.'” Thankfully, his strong words echo loudly, even decades later.

NBC

Frank Zappa was a man who you could describe as aggressively anti-commercial and someone who courted divisiveness. He made all sorts of different kinds of music. He made jazz that only the most ardent of jazz aficionados could enjoy, and composed classical pieces. He made rock songs filled with lyrics made up of exceedingly sophomoric jokes. One of his signature songs is called “Don’t Eat Yellow Snow.” Zappa was opinionated and brash and counter-culture. He pretended to like The Shaggs, for God’s sake! (He called The Shaggs better than The Beatles, once. It is a presumption that he was insincere in his affinity for The Shaggs because, well, have you listened to The Shaggs?)

Michael Nesmith and Davy Jones (who both share a birthday on Dec. 30) on the face of things, were not like Frank Zappa. They were both Monkees, or rather, members of the “Pre-Fab Four.” They were prepackaged to appeal to Beatles fans. They were as focused about their TV show as they were about music. In the beginning, they weren’t wholly responsible for the instrumentation on their albums, or the songwriting. Eventually, they did take on a bigger role in the creation of their own music, and, while their music was market researched within an inch of its life to appeal to the masses, the show The Monkees was actually quite weird and goofy and fairly funny. Nevertheless, The Monkees were seen as being on the forefront of “mainstream culture” — Davy Jones was on The Brady Bunch.

Obviously, a dichotomy is being established between Zappa and The Monkees. Why does one take the time to make it clear to the reader that two entities seemingly have nothing in common? So they can blow their minds by telling them that, in fact, they had more in common than you realize. This is the case with Zappa and The Monkees. It’d be weird, at this point, if it wasn’t.

Yes, the man who made an album called We’re Only in It for the Money to poke fun at The Beatles made guest appearances on two Monkees projects. The first instance, and the most iconic instance, was in the episode “The Monkees Blow Their Minds.” It is the penultimate episode of the show, and the main plot involves a mentalist gaining control of Peter Tork’s mind to use him in his nightclub act. That is not a particularly weird story for The Monkees. However, before they get into that action, there is a cold open involving Mr. Zappa and Mike Nesmith.

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If you were going to pair any Monkee with Zappa, Nesmith makes the most sense. He was a sardonic oddball who was a producer on the movie Repo Man. He probably thought Zappa was funny, and maybe Zappa liked him too. According to Barry Miles’ book Frank Zappa, Zappa was a fan of The Monkees, and actually invited Micky Dolenz to join his band, the Mothers of Invention. That didn’t happen, but they did get Zappa on their TV show.

The cold open is, ostensibly, an interview between Nesmith and Zappa, but they decided to weird it up a bit, with great results. Zappa portrayed Nesmith, while Nesmith played Zappa. Zappa wears Nesmith’s iconic clothing, including his hat. Nesmith, meanwhile, dons a cheap wig, and cheaper nose, to play Zappa. His fake nose keeps falling off. The interview is awkward and stilted. Then Zappa, the actual Zappa, “plays” a car by smashing it and lighting it on fire and stuff while Nesmith conducts.

It’s truly bizarre, and a little distancing, but it’s also funny. It has nothing to do with anything, it’s just a strange little thing they did because Zappa wanted to stop by, but it works. It feels more like The Monkees’ style of humor than Zappa’s, but, then again, Zappa is a bit of a chameleon. Were there a lot of Zappa fans who tuned into The Monkees, though? How many people were excited and enthused by Zappa’s appearance? And how many people were just like, “Frank Zappa, eh? That’s weird.” This was not modern times, of course, it was the 1960s, so this sort of information is less accessible. In these modern times, you could just plug “Frank Zappa The Monkees” into Twitter and see what people are saying.

After The Monkees ended, they regrouped for the 1968 film Head. The Monkees was an oddball, but sweet, show. Head, by comparison, is a super weird departure. Co-written by Jack Nicholson, the film is a bizarre, counterculture film with a heavy drug influence. All sorts of people showed up in it, including their ol’ pal Zappa. Zappa plays a character solely credited as “The Critic.” Davy Jones, and a group of other people, leave a big, dark room and head out into the bright sunshine. One of those people is Zappa, who has a big bull on a leash. Zappa tells him he needs to work on his music, and that the youth of America is depending on him. Also, the bull talks.

It’s a short little cameo, and it’s not even close to being the weirdest thing in the movie. It does speak to the notion that Zappa was a true fan of The Monkees, though. Otherwise, why bother with this brief appearance with a bull? It’s the sort of cameo you make for a friend, like all those guys who pop up in Will Ferrell’s movies. This scene is not as funny as the one from The Monkees, but it is good.

The Monkees would occasionally work together, here and there, after Head, although Nesmith would not always be involved. Now, of course, Jones has since died, so any reunion is out of the question. Zappa would go on to make his own movie, 200 Motels, and he would also get himself banned from Saturday Night Live after hosting it. He just didn’t jibe with the so called “counter-culture” ideas of SNL. He apparently felt much more at home with guys like The Monkees. The world is a strange place.

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There are few things in today’s music industry more valuable than the song catalogs of and rights management for past rock legends. Anyone following the story of Prince and his vault full of unreleased music are seeing the beginning of yet another tug-of-war to gain control of these revenue streams. For another example, check out the story of Frank Zappa and the family trust that controls his music in such a restrictive way, his son Dweezil has been forced to change his band’s name.

For nearly a decade, Dweezil has toured the world performing his father’s music under the act name “Zappa Plays Zappa.” Following the death of Frank’s wife Gail in October of 2015, control of the Zappa Family Trust — which owns Frank Zappa’s music rights — was passed on to Frank’s other children, Ahmet Emuukha Rodan Zappa and Diva Muffin Zappa. A few months later, they threatened Dweezil Zappa with a seven-figure copyright infringement suit if he continued to tour as Zappa Plays Zappa.

“My last name is Zappa; my father was Frank Zappa,” Dweezil complained to The New York Times. “But I am not allowed to use the name on its own. I’m not allowed to use a picture of him. I’m not allowed to use my own connection with him without some sort of deal to be struck.”

Dweezil said he was forced to pay his mother Gail an “exorbitant fee” to use the name Zappa Plays Zappa, but now the Zappa Family Trust is demanding more concessions, including a “grand rights” fee, which is the fee paid when staging someone else’s theatrical work. To get around the Zappa Family Trust’s demands, all of Dweezil’s future shows will be performed under the name “Dweezil Zappa Plays Frank Zappa.”

“It doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue,” he said ruefully. “But this is being done under duress.”

You can read more about the rift between Dweezil and the Zappa Family Trust in this New York Times interview or this Inquisitr article. Neither paints the people running the business side of Frank’s musical legacy in a very positive light.

Don Van Vliet — better known as his music persona Captain Beefheart — has died at the age of 69 due to complications from MS.

Born Don Vliet, the musician and artist was known for his early collaborations with musical kindred Frank Zappa, and for he and his backers Magic Band’s experiements in rock, combining traditional pop musics like blues, garage rock and R&B with neo-classical and free jazz.

Captain Beefheart released more than a dozen albums, with a couple live and anthology sets after he retired from music in 1982. One of the best known efforts “Trout Mask Replica” was released in 1969, met with confusion, then critical acclaim; it is now part of the permanent rock canon, for its experimental nature, unusual production qualities and its epic 28 tracks, recorded with the freedom granted by friend, producer, fellow musician and label founder Zappa.

Vliet retired a pair of times in his music career, wanting to working in and out of the visual arts and out of frustration with the industry. After 1982, he moved back to the Mojave desert — a critical space in his upbringing — and continued painting out of a trailer before dropping out of public sight entirely in the 1990s.

New wave, punk music and rock music in general benefited from Captain Beefheart’s contributions. Despite having disappeared for two decades, he will still be truly missed.

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Is there a more intimidating discography for a neophyte to ponder than that of Frank Zappa? With about 110 albums to Zappa’s name, there are an ungodly number of entry points into his music. And no matter which album you pick, you will never find a truly “representative” Zappa LP. The best-known touchstones in his catalogue are practically islands onto themselves: The genre-hopping irreverence of Freak Out! and We’re Only In It For The Money, the metal-riffing jazz-rock of Hot Rats, the wise-ass AOR of Over-Nite Sensation and Apostrophe, the scatological satire of Joe’s Garage. Where in the world does one get started?

Brilliantly virtuosic, absurdly complex, painstakingly conceived, lyrically childish, restlessly creative, staunchly anti-commercial — Zappa can seem almost impossible to fathom from the outside looking in. On one hand, he was among the most original and technically gifted composers ever to work in the context of rock and roll, capable of writing both hooky jazz-pop ditties and sprawling avant-classical pieces without precedent in modern music. And then he would hire top-flight musicians to play those songs, rehearsing them tirelessly so that they could perform his music with spotless precision, even as he improvised spastic, chaotic guitar solos over the top of them for minutes on end.

But as high-minded as he was musically, Zappa could be downright piggish as a lyricist, relishing his very “’70s rock guy” attitudes about women and sex in scores of jokey songs that can come off now as straight-up misogyny or homophobia. In 1979’s “Bobby Brown,” one of Zappa’s most infamous songs, he details the sexual misadventures of a thoroughly unlikeable homosexual radio promotion man in decidedly un-PC language that is even more offensive now than it was 40 years ago. (Nevertheless, “Bobby Brown” was an international hit, reaching the top five in five countries, including Noway and Sweden, where it was a No. 1 smash.)

For detractors, Zappa is a vortex of obnoxiousness — musically obtuse and lyrically abhorrent. And yet, because of the sheer quantity of music he created, it’s possible to set aside what’s grating about Zappa and focus on his idiosyncratic talents as a composer, guitar player, and free-thinking all-American original.

Universal Music Group

All of those attributes, good and bad, are on display in Halloween 77, a new box set that commemorates a series of six blazing holiday shows that Zappa and his excellent band — which at the time included monster instrumentalists like guitarist Adrian Belew and drummer Terry Bozzio — performed at the Palladium in New York City in 1977.

Halloween shows were an annual tradition for Zappa, a monster-movie enthusiast who loved to incorporate the costumed freaks in the audience into his performances. On Halloween 77, the music is loose and spontaneous in spite of fairly static tracklists across the half-dozen concerts, with Zappa playing off the oddball crowd while leading his band through thrilling renditions of songs that would later appear on one of his most popular albums, 1979’s Sheik Yerbouti. The freewheeling, irreverent spirit carries over the packaging for Halloween 77 — the music is contained on a zip drive shaped like an “Oh Punky” candy bar inside of a plastic Frank Zappa mask and costume.

According to Ahmet Zappa — who, along with his sister Diva, runs the Zappa Family Trust charged with overseeing his father’s voluminous vault of unreleased music, films, photos, and various other documents — Halloween 77i s the first of what could be many releases commemorating the annual Halloween shows. “Unfortunately, the Halloween shows throughout the years, not all of them were recorded,” says archivist Joe Travers. “There’s a whole gap of mid-’70s shows that weren’t recorded, and it was most likely due to the union cost. But we do have material for a certain number of years to do future box sets.”

Universal Music Group

Incredibly, there will also apparently be future Frank Zappa concerts. In September, the Zappa family announced plans to mount two hologram-related projects, including a concert tour featuring former Zappa associates like Belew and guitarist Steve Vai, and a stage adaptation of Zappa’s iconic 1979 rock opera, Joe’s Garage. (Belew and another former Zappa guitarist, Denny Walley, have since backed out of the proposed Zappa hologram tour.) While both projects are still in the early planning stages, the idea of Frank Zappa returning to the road as a 3D image immediately sparked controversy in the niche-y world of Zappa fans. The most notable critic was Dweezil Zappa, who swiftly condemned his brother Ahmet and his associates, deepening a bitter family feud over the management of Frank’s legacy that’s been raging publicly since Gail Zappa, the Zappas’ matriarch, died in 2016.

Last week, I phoned Ahmet with the intention of discussing Halloween 77, but our conversation soon pivoted to the future of rock and roll hologram concerts, which aside from a recent European tour featuring the late Ronnie James Dio remain mostly theoretical. But considering both the strong health of the classic-rock concert market, and the frail mortality of the aging classic-rock musician population, hologram tours might very soon become commonplace. And if Ahmet gets his way, Frank Zappa could become a trailblazer in this arena, as forward-thinking in death as he was in life.

Brian Bowen Smith

From the mid-1960s to the mid-’80s, Frank Zappa played special Halloween shows nearly every year. Why was the holiday special to him?

The freak scene. People put in all the time and energy to get dressed up and do outrageous things. [And] I think Frank also just loved science fiction and horror movies. He had a huge collection of horror movies that scared the hell out of me, but for him, I think, [they were] comical. I would sit with Frank and he’d be working on his music. He’d put headphones on my head, and I’d have an opportunity to watch monster movies with Frank in the studio. Frank was always working, so if I wanted to spend time with him, it was the best way to be in his presence.

Did the “freak scene” atmosphere influence the shows?

He loved audience participation. I think it evolved into becoming a tradition for him because of how the fans dressed up and how he could interact with them. From the story-telling standpoint, I think that Frank really enjoyed that.

Many of the songs that Zappa played during these shows appeared two years later on Sheik Yerbouti, including the “hit” “Bobby Brown,” which ranks among the most sexually lewd tracks in his discography. How well does a song about a “homo” who works in radio promotion translate almost 40 years later?

There was a toy store that we used to go to as kids. My dad loved ray guns or any kind of toys that made sounds. He would use them in his recordings. To protect the name of the real person that that song is, I think, based on… in hindsight, we were like, “Oh, that guy owned a toy store and that’s where I used to go all the time. That is pretty bizarre.” Frank was a very conversational person. He always was interested in people. He loved one-on-one conversations. I can just tell you that a lot of the stuff, songs that he’s written, it’s really based off of conversations with real people that really did weird sh*t.

But wasn’t there an element of willful provocation in a lot of Frank’s songs? It seems like he relished any opportunity to offend feminist or left-wing sensibilities.

I don’t know if that’s his reasons for doing it. I don’t think he just ever shied away from writing about real stuff or things that were, let’s say, a fringe element. I feel like everything is actually kind of tame. Maybe that’s the environment I grew up in, where I heard all this music. At the time, it was more like, ‘I can’t believe he’s saying that.’ But right now, I feel like he paved the way for people to be more expressive.

He would say, ‘There’s no word in the English language that could make you burn in hell. They’re just words. It’s the intention behind which you say them.’ And he was always contextualizing that for us as kids. If he was ever going after someone, it was to illuminate the fact that, in his opinion, they did something that was not hunky dory. But he was never someone that would just arbitrarily write a song that was trying to do something to hurt someone.

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I have to ask about the hologram tour. Last month, the Zappa Family Trust announced controversial plans for a concert tour and a musical based on Joe’s Garage, both of which would feature a projected multi-dimensional image of Frank. For now, no dates have been set. Are you still moving forward?

I’m glad you asked! A hologram tour certainly lends itself to the kinds of things that I think would have made Frank really excited. In his book, The Real Frank Zappa Book, you read chapter 18, the failure chapter, he talks about wanting to take [hologram-style technology] public. At least when I talked to Frank about it, he was like, ‘I don’t have to go on a world tour. I can make content and have a world tour in one day.’ Or, ‘I could broadcast a giant experience, a holographic experience over the ocean.’ As a kid, you’re like, ‘What the f*ck are you even talking about? How is this even possible?’ And the cool thing is, we’ve actually just recently found his original business plans and documents. It was always something that Frank was interested in.

I always came from a standpoint of, ‘Okay, what’s really do-able out there? Who understands what we want to do in a Zappa capacity?’ This is a long-winded way of telling you the process that we’re in right now. Frank shot on a sound stage, in the early ’70s, this multi-camera shoot, where we have the multi-tracks of the audio, and that will be the basis of it. But if you think about just putting on a show, what does that actually entail? So you have the stage and the band and everything on the stage, and just from a purely organizational point of view, the new element is, okay, if you’re going to have some sort of super dynamic projection, you have to have a controlled environment, which is, let’s call it, for the sake of conversation, a hologram box. Just having the area where holographic projection can exist, the thing that’s super, fucking awesome about it, is anything can happen in that space. Any assets that are created can exist and appear to be real and accepted in that space.

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I think I follow you. There seems to be some confusion over what a “Frank Zappa hologram tour” would look like.

I almost don’t like the word “hologram,” because I think that there’s tons of examples of the execution not living up to the notion of what a hologram can be. I think that part of the experience that we want to bring is all of the humor, the absurdity, and the visuals from across all the album covers. So it really is the bizarre world of Frank Zappa that’s being brought to life. It’s not just about having him appear to be back from the dead and on stage. That’s the kind of thing that you can get fatigued from. This whole show is a much bigger adventure than I think people realize in terms of the visual smorgasbord of awesomeness that will be hitting people’s eyes and ears sometime next year.

We’re just still in the very beginning stages of the organization and getting the assets ready. Because there’s certain things I think people will want to see — the improvisation [and] some never-before-heard music. We are trying to make those decisions, organizationally, about what musicians can play what on what nights. And if we have to make assets, it’ll have to relate to that musical moment.

Are you surprised that some people seem offended by the idea of a hologram Frank Zappa?

Am I surprised? No. I feel like it’s been pretty caustic out there with so much misinformation from my brother. It’s sad for me.

When I put together the Zappa Plays Zappa tour, way back in the day, and I approached my brother like, ‘Hey, do you want to go out and do this show?’ I remember the pushback. People were super angry at the fact that we might have video projections, so that Dweezil could play guitar solo with Frank. This is the thing that would bring people to tears! I think we can have an even more emotional experience in the sense that my brother could be side by side with Frank in a more tangible, real way, instead of having people look back and forth between a live guitar player and a giant projection of Frank.

I mean, we’re still doing projection. I don’t get the difference. We can now make it an even crazier, totally immersive experience. Like, how is it somehow bad? I don’t understand. The goal here is to have people experience Frank. How else are they gonna experience Frank on tour? No one wants to make something that’s stinky and bad. I care about every aspect of Frank. How do we do something that’s the most bizarre, super kick-ass Zappa experience of all time?

At this point it seems like this is the future, for Frank and all iconic musicians of his generation, given that there’s still a market for classic-rock concerts even though the classic-rock generation is starting to pass away.

Like, all of our heroes, all of the bands that I love, they’re gonna be gone. All of the people that played all this fantastic music, all going to be gone. And then, we’re gonna be stuck with [imitates techno beat] unce, unce, unce all f*cking day long. People have to do something to combat the unce.

Halloween ’77 is out now via Universal Music. Get it here.

It’s Arrested Development Day. Well, the Day Before Arrested Development Day, technically, but shut up. All I can think about is Arrested Development, it being Day Before Arrested Development Day and all, and how in only a few short hours, we’ll soon be enjoying the company of Franklin and George Michael and Lindsay all over again.

That being said, here is a quilt Frank Zappa made out of women’s underwear.

Full story here, but even without context, that’s as hot as a rat.

(Via Reddit)

Music legend Frank Zappa would have been 74 years old today. To celebrate the date we’re taking a look at some of the more overlooked (and gleefully weird) albums of his lengthy career. Most people are familiar with the genius of Freak Out!, Hot Rats, and Joe’s Garage, but have probably neglected to travel past. So to rectify that, here are some fascinating Zappa albums that haven’t gotten the same love over the years, but are worth your time nonetheless.

1. Lumpy Gravy – 1968

This one is as experimental to say the least. As with Hot Rats, it’s an instrumental record, but whereas that record was more rooted in free-form jazz, this album veers all over the place. Some moments are jazzy, others feel almost classical; some moments are perfectly pleasant, others would drive the party out of the room. While not exactly a critical favorite, this record certainly has its fans, and if you’re interested in completely understanding the scope of Zappa’s ambition, it’s as essential as anything else he’s recorded.

2. Does Humor Belong In Music? – 1984

A cursory glance at some of the titles Zappa has given his albums and songs over the years should tell you that he has quite a wacky sense of humor, but with this album, he essentially invents the genre of Comedy Rock, or in his case, Jazz Progressive Fusion Comedy Rock. Zappa cracks some one-liners over the course of the recording, and there are some wacky sound effects along the way. Mostly, though, this is an expertly played record that happens to have a foot in the world of comedy. In any case, it’s worth checking out.

Fans of The Replacements were disappointed last weekend, when the band’s reunion tour abruptly ended. It was a refreshing reminder of their unpredictability and volatility, which got us thinking about one of the band’s seminal moments: their 1986 appearance on Saturday Night Live. Always known for being loud, sloppy, and not particularly sober, they lived up to that reputation on the SNL stage. They were drunk, forgot the verses to their songs, and guitarist Bob Stinson dropped an f-bomb. They were then promptly banned from the show — although Paul Westerberg did return as a solo artist in 1993. Of course, the Replacements were not the only musical guest to be kicked off the SNL stage. With that in mind, let’s look at six other artists who were banned from Saturday Night Live.

Cypress Hill

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When you book a rap group with a single called “Hits From The Bong,” it can’t be too surprising when one of their members decides to smoke a joint in the middle of a performance. Nonetheless, Lorne Michaels was none too pleased when DJ Muggs decided to light up a joint during the band’s performance of “Ain’t Goin’ Out Like That.” Muggs was angered after SNL specifically told him not to light his joint, and that’s what inspired him to do it. He also trashed a set of conga drums at the end of the performance, but realistically, the weed was probably the big reason for the ban.

Rage Against The Machine

When you book Rage Against the machine as the SNL musical guest, it would seem like a strange idea to pair them with Steve Forbes, who, as a Republican billionaire, is about as close to a human embodiment of The Machine as one can get. The band decided to hang American flags over their amplifiers as a means of protesting Forbes. The flags were removed shortly before the band took the stage to play “Bulls On Parade,” and they were forced to leave the building after their lone performance.

Sinead O’Connor

Probably the most famous example on this. In 1992, after a performance of the song “War,” O’Connor ripped up a picture of Pope John Paul II while shouting “fight the real enemy!” The backlash against O’Connor was furious, as she was booed three weeks later at a Bob Dylan tribute concert. Interestingly, O’Connor’s stunt might have distracted people from shots Tim Robbins took at General Electric, owners of NBC, in his monologue. This was certainly one of the most rebellious shows SNL ever did.

Elvis Costello

Lorne is not a big fan of improvisation on his show, and that’s why what Costello did put him through the roof. Costello and the Attractions began playing “Less Than Zero,” then abruptly stopped, saying “there’s no reason to play this song here,” likely because the song’s references to British politics would be lost on American audiences. The band launched into “Radio Radio” instead. Not pleased, Lorne banned them from the show, but it would prove to not be permanent, as Costello would return to SNL in 1989, when “Veronica” gave him the biggest hit of his career. The infamous incident would be referenced at SNL’s 25th anniversary, when Costello interrupted a Beastie Boys performance of “Sabotage,” and played “Radio Radio” with the band.

Fear

The legendary punks were booked after John Belushi convinced producer Dick Ebersol to let them on. Things…. did not go well. The band started their second performance by saying “it’s great to be here in Jersey,” which earned them boos from the crowd. They destroyed equipment, bussed in “dancers” for the performance, and played songs with offensive lyrics. As the band was about to play “Let’s Have A War,” their fourth straight song, the song faded into commercial. The band had done $20,000 worth of damage, although singer Lee Ving would tell the New York Post that it was $500,000. Fear may not have been the best choice for SNL, but it’s hard to deny that what they did was pretty punk rock.

Frank Zappa

While undeniably a brilliant musician, Zappa was not particularly popular as the host of SNL in 1978. He made his cue-card-reading gratuitously obvious, and generally hammed things up in a not-particularly likeable way. During the goodnights, the cast made a point of standing as far away from his possible.

It’s a good time for fans of musical documentaries. Netflix recently released a documentary about Nina Simone, and they also have announced a release date for a new documentary about Keith Richards. Kurt Cobain: Montage of Heck also hit it big for HBO. Well, Frank Zappa will now finally get the documentary that he’s long deserved. Also, it is being directed by Alex Winter, known to most as Bill S. Preston, Esq. from the Bill and Ted movies.

Zappa was a very unusual, idiosyncratic guy, and you don’t need to look further than the names of his children to know that. He made a lot of songs built on silly, juvenile humor, but he was also an extremely meticulous musician who composed orchestral pieces and was diligent at studying jazz. Also, he was a huge fan of Mystery Science Theater 3000, which is always a point in somebody’s favor. In short, he had an interesting life that would lend itself to a great documentary.

While Winter is still mostly known for acting alongside Keanu Reeves as our nation’s greatest time-traveling teens, he’s done quite a bit of directing, as well, including a couple of documentaries. “There has yet to be a definitive, authorized documentary on the extraordinary life and work of Frank Zappa. I am beyond thrilled to be embarking on this journey,” said Winter. The movie isn’t expected to be out until 2017, so it will be a couple years until we find out if this movie is… excellent, or bogus. Zappa, who died in 1993 due to prostate cancer, obviously can’t be part of the film, but there will surely be plenty of interesting people ready to talk about his interesting life. Here’s hoping Mike Nesmith makes an appearance, perhaps as Frank Zappa.

(Via Consequence of Sound)

John Kricfalusi moved to Los Angeles by way of Ottawa in his early 20s. As an artist and animator, he grew up admiring the work of Tex Avery and Bob Clampett, but in L.A., he was growing tired of the cartoons he was tasked with. “I worked on the worst stuff you’ve ever seen in your life,” he told the New York Times in 1992. “Have you ever seen the Filmation Tom and Jerrys? They ruined Tom and Jerry, they ruined Droopy, they ruined Mighty Mouse. I helped ruin all those characters.”

After working on The New Adventures of Mighty Mouse for CBS, Kricfalusi started his own production company, Spumco. One of the first ideas he pitched to the three networks was The Ren & Stimpy Show, a program about the misadventures of a temperamental chihuahua and an absent-minded cat. The networks passed on the show, but Vanessa Coffey — the executive producer of animation for Nickelodeon — was smitten with Kricfalusi’s pitch, and after another meeting with executives of Nickelodeon, Ren & Stimpy was given a green light.

The Ren & Stimpy Show was a huge hit for the kids’ cable channel, appealing to both kids and adults. Its initial 1991 season netted the show an Emmy nomination for Outstanding Animated Program. The show wasn’t without its detractors, though. Some deemed the show’s humor crude, and offensive to children. In a letter to the Parents Television Council, one viewer described the show as funny, but entirely inappropriate for the younger generation.

For example, I remember coming across Ren & Stimpy on Nickelodeon, and the episode in question had to do with the comparison of the smell of animal feces with two different brands of kitty litter. Now I would be less than honest if I did not say that I personally found this episode uproariously funny from an adult point of view. But I cannot see for the life of me why a network like Nickelodeon would ever allow content like this to be shown to children. Is this the kind of thing that we want our children to see? What were these people thinking?

For the premiere episode of Ren & Stimpy‘s second season, Kricfalusi and his team decided to push the envelope a little bit further. “In the Army/Powdered Toast Man” premiered in August 1992. The second half of the episode focused on Powdered Toast Man (voiced by Gary Owens), a pastor and government clerk by day who moonlights as a superhero. There are some dark moments in the cartoon that would likely not fly by today’s standards, as when he shoots down a passenger flight in order to save a kitten. (The injured survivors of the plane crash still cheer him on.)

It’s Powdered Toast Man’s second act of heroism that resulted in one of the more controversial segments in the series. Our obtuse hero is called upon to rescue the Pope (Frank Zappa), who is tied to a barrel of TNT by an evil fish with a top hat. He rescues the Pope from imminent death, and proceeds to fly away with him on his back. Fearing that fall off of Powdered Toast Man, the Pope grabs and then buries his face in the hero’s butt. Yes, the Pope put his face in the ass of a superhero. The segment ended with another controversial moment: Powdered Toast Man burns the Constitution and Bill of Rights.

In response to the backlash of the episode, further airings featured the Pope without the cross on his hat, and in the credits, his name was changed to “The Man with the Pointy Hat” to appease religious groups upset with the depiction of the Catholic figure. The episode wouldn’t be the last time Kricfalusi and the Spumco team got in hot water over their material. A later episode, “Man’s Best Friend,” featured a scene in which Ren almost beats a man named George Liquor to death. Nickelodeon banned the episode, and fired the entire Spumco team. That episode would finally air on Spike’s Adult Party Cartoon almost a decade later. 

It’ll be interesting to see if Nickelodeon airs the Powdered Toast Man segment now that Ren & Stimpy is returning to the Splat block of programming, but just the plane crash scene alone will likely keep it from appearing on the channel again. As for the depiction of the Pope, it would be nice to think that during Pope Francis’ downtime here in the states, someone handed him a tablet with that episode loaded up.

Frank Zappa was one of those musicians that almost everyone’s heard of, but few readily know his songs. The legendarily eccentric musician who would’ve turned 75 today, was a radical musical outsider, releasing more than 60 records over his 30-year career, drawing from influences that spanned from classical music to free form jazz to rhythm and blues, often on a single album. At the heart of his prolific creativity, Zappa was also a renowned political activist. An outspoken proponent of the arts, he was both strongly anti-conformist and fiercely anti-censorship.

It was in the fall of 1985 that Zappa got his first big moment in the political spotlight. That year, a group informally known as The Washington Wives were looking to increase parental involvement over their children’s access to music. The group, which included Tipper Gore, wife of then-Senator Al Gore, had a clear-cut goal in mind to put pressure on the Recording Industry Associates of America (RIAA) into a series of regulations, including voluntarily labeling albums that contained explicit lyrics or cover art, similar to the way the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA) rated movies based on content.

This led to the forming of a committee known as the Parents Music Resource Center (PMRC), who aimed to influence their set of standards within the RIAA itself. Armed with a list of songs known as “The Filthy Fifteen” (which included everyone from Prince to Judas Priest), the PMRC suggested that the RIAA create and enforce these numerous proposed standards themselves, which included everything from warning labels, lack of airplay for songs deemed explicit, and even to reassess the contracts of controversial performers in an attempt to discourage such behavior both on stage and on record.

Zappa, whose own discography defiantly blurred the lines between rock, jazz and classical music, saw himself as a pro-capitalist entrepreneur who believed what the PMRC was suggesting was nothing more than the beginning of watered-down censorship, which he believed to be in direct conflict with his First Amendment rights as both an artist and performer. Fiercely opposed to their proposals, Zappa, along with fellow musicians John Denver and Twisted Sister’s Dee Snider, testified to a Senate committee hearing to speak out against the intentions of the PMRC. While all three of their testimonies were important, it was Zappa’s that stole the show.

Reading from a condensed version of a prepared statement that was a scathing criticism of the PMRC, Zappa called the whole ordeal “an ill-conceived piece of nonsense” that “treated dandruff by decapitation.” He also readily suggested that the hearings existed solely for the RIAA to push through a blank tape tax, which they did that same year. Zappa opened by reciting the First Amendment, which he believed was in danger of being put through the “family paper shredder” should these proposed suggestions be put in place.

Taken as a whole, the complete list of PMRC demands reads like an instruction manual for some sinister kind of toilet training program to house-break all composers and performers because of the lyrics of a few.

Not limiting himself to criticizing what he saw as blatant government overreach, Zappa suggested that the committee’s efforts would better be spent by focusing on music education in schools, stating that children had a “right to know that something besides pop music exists.” He went on to speculate on the kind of precedent that would be set by putting a voluntary ratings system in place, suggesting hypothetically that any material written by a Jewish performer could be released with a letter J on the front so as to “save helpless children from exposure to concealed Zionist doctrine.”

Despite Zappa’s staunch and forthright seriousness on the matter overall, there were some lighter moments, such as Al Gore professing his fandom for Zappa on a personal level, as well as then-Senator Jim Exon asking if he had performed with either Glenn Miller or Mitch Miller. Zappa, as it turned out, had taken some lessons with Miller’s brother as a grade-schooler. Exon laughed, calling it “the first sign of hope in this hearing.”

While his entire statement, as his followup back-and-forth with Gore, is filled with delightful, distinctly opinionated insights that can be read in its entirety here, there’s also a full 35-minute video of his testimony, which is absolutely worth taking the time to watch in full.

Along with testimony from Zappa, who disregarded the entire ordeal as political posturing, both for the aforementioned blank tape tax and to elevate the visibility of Al Gore prior to his presidential ambitions, Denver and Snider spoke about the misinterpretation of their lyrics. Denver cited his often misunderstood “Rocky Mountain High,” while Snider, too, spoke about lyrical interpretation, referring to the Twisted Sister song “Under the Knife,” which had been singled out by the committee. Snider maintained the lyrics were about a bandmate’s surgical proceedings, before adding that “Ms. Gore was looking for sadomasochism and bondage, and she found it.”

As a result of the hearing, the RIAA did agree to put the now ubiquitous Parental Advisory stickers on albums that they deemed to have explicit content, eventually leading to both ‘dirty’ and ‘clean’ versions of explicit albums, the latter being packaged for big-box stores that would refuse to carry such albums otherwise. Interestingly, one of the first albums to receive such a warning label was Zappa’s 1986 release Jazz From Hell, which did a song titled “G-Spot Tornado,” though the album itself was entirely instrumental — echoing the 1958 censorship of Link Wray’s “Rumble,” which was said to have been over fears of inciting violence, despite it also being an instrumental.

In the years that followed, the PMRC inspired a number of off-color references across several musical genres, while Zappa, as always, took it one step further. Using audio excerpts of the hearing and setting them to Synclavier music for the song “Porn Wars,” Zappa included the track on his album Frank Zappa Meets The Mothers of Prevention, released in 1985, not long after the hearing itself. When not busy making music, Zappa remained as politically active as ever, appearing on programs like Crossfire where he continued to defend his right to creative freedom, as well as music’s role in society at large. A true believer in the Democratic process, he encouraged fans to vote throughout his career, and his 1988 tour even had voter registration booths, and had himself considering running for President in the 1992 election.

His political ambitions were cut short, unfortunately, as he was diagnosed with inoperable prostate cancer in 1990, and would succumb to the disease three years later. His wife, Gail, posthumously released Congress Shall Make No Law… in 2010 to commemorate the 25th anniversary of the PMRC hearings. A spoken-word album that contains her husband’s entire testimony made in 1985, as well as interview soundbites of him speaking out against censorship at various times during his career. This included a testimony that the Baltimore native gave to the Maryland State Legislature in 1986, which itself helped to prevent a law that would have made selling albums with explicit content to children a crime, something he saw as a victory for himself and for creative freedom.

Gail Zappa has said that the album exists to serve as an educational work that represents the “tireless commitment to the First Amendment which he felt was his duty to protect by providing (in his words) ‘stimulating digital audio entertainment’ in the form of ‘material which a truly free society would neither fear nor suppress.'” Thankfully, his strong words echo loudly, even decades later.

Frank Zappa was a man who you could describe as aggressively anti-commercial and someone who courted divisiveness. He made all sorts of different kinds of music. He made jazz that only the most ardent of jazz aficionados could enjoy, and composed classical pieces. He made rock songs filled with lyrics made up of exceedingly sophomoric jokes. One of his signature songs is called “Don’t Eat Yellow Snow.” Zappa was opinionated and brash and counter-culture. He pretended to like The Shaggs, for God’s sake! (He called The Shaggs better than The Beatles, once. It is a presumption that he was insincere in his affinity for The Shaggs because, well, have you listened to The Shaggs?)

Michael Nesmith and Davy Jones, on the face of things, were not like Frank Zappa. They were both Monkees, or rather, members of the “Pre-Fab Four.” They were prepackaged to appeal to Beatles fans. They were as focused about their TV show as they were about music. In the beginning, they weren’t wholly responsible for the instrumentation on their albums, or the songwriting. Eventually, they did take on a bigger role in the creation of their own music, and, while their music was market researched within an inch of its life to appeal to the masses, the show The Monkees was actually quite weird and goofy and fairly funny. Nevertheless, The Monkees were seen as being on the forefront of “mainstream culture” — Davy Jones was on The Brady Bunch.

Obviously, a dichotomy is being established between Zappa and The Monkees. Why does one take the time to make it clear to the reader that two entities seemingly have nothing in common? So they can blow their minds by telling them that, in fact, they had more in common than you realize. This is the case with Zappa and The Monkees. It’d be weird, at this point, if it wasn’t.

Yes, the man who made an album called We’re Only in It for the Money to poke fun at The Beatles made guest appearances on two Monkees projects. The first instance, and the most iconic instance, was in the episode “The Monkees Blow Their Minds.” It is the penultimate episode of the show, and the main plot involves a mentalist gaining control of Peter Tork’s mind to use him in his nightclub act. That is not a particularly weird story for The Monkees. However, before they get into that action, there is a cold open involving Mr. Zappa and Mike Nesmith.

If you were going to pair any Monkee with Zappa, Nesmith makes the most sense. He was a sardonic oddball who was a producer on the movie Repo Man. He probably thought Zappa was funny, and maybe Zappa liked him too. According to Barry Miles’ book Frank Zappa, Zappa was a fan of The Monkees, and actually invited Micky Dolenz to join his band, the Mothers of Invention. That didn’t happen, but they did get Zappa on their TV show.

The cold open is, ostensibly, an interview between Nesmith and Zappa, but they decided to weird it up a bit, with great results. Zappa portrayed Nesmith, while Nesmith played Zappa. Zappa wears Nesmith’s iconic clothing, including his hat. Nesmith, meanwhile, dons a cheap wig, and cheaper nose, to play Zappa. His fake nose keeps falling off. The interview is awkward and stilted. Then Zappa, the actual Zappa, “plays” a car by smashing it and lighting it on fire and stuff while Nesmith conducts.

It’s truly bizarre, and a little distancing, but it’s also funny. It has nothing to do with anything, it’s just a strange little thing they did because Zappa wanted to stop by, but it works. It feels more like The Monkees’ style of humor than Zappa’s, but, then again, Zappa is a bit of a chameleon. Were there a lot of Zappa fans who tuned into The Monkees, though? How many people were excited and enthused by Zappa’s appearance? And how many people were just like, “Frank Zappa, eh? That’s weird.” This was not modern times, of course, it was the 1960s, so this sort of information is less accessible. In these modern times, you could just plug “Frank Zappa The Monkees” into Twitter and see what people are saying.

After The Monkees ended, they regrouped for the 1968 film Head. The Monkees was an oddball, but sweet, show. Head, by comparison, is a super weird departure. Co-written by Jack Nicholson, the film is a bizarre, counterculture film with a heavy drug influence. All sorts of people showed up in it, including their ol’ pal Zappa. Zappa plays a character solely credited as “The Critic.” Davy Jones, and a group of other people, leave a big, dark room and head out into the bright sunshine. One of those people is Zappa, who has a big bull on a leash. Zappa tells him he needs to work on his music, and that the youth of America is depending on him. Also, the bull talks.

It’s a short little cameo, and it’s not even close to being the weirdest thing in the movie. It does speak to the notion that Zappa was a true fan of The Monkees, though. Otherwise, why bother with this brief appearance with a bull? It’s the sort of cameo you make for a friend, like all those guys who pop up in Will Ferrell’s movies. This scene is not as funny as the one from The Monkees, but it is good.

The Monkees would occasionally work together, here and there, after Head, although Nesmith would not always be involved. Now, of course, Jones has since died, so any reunion is out of the question. Zappa would go on to make his own movie, 200 Motels, and he would also get himself banned from Saturday Night Live after hosting it. He just didn’t jibe with the so called “counter-culture” ideas of SNL. He apparently felt much more at home with guys like The Monkees. The world is a strange place.

There are few things in today’s music industry more valuable than the song catalogs of and rights management for past rock legends. Anyone following the story of Prince and his vault full of unreleased music are seeing the beginning of yet another tug-of-war to gain control of these revenue streams. For another example, check out the story of Frank Zappa and the family trust that controls his music in such a restrictive way, his son Dweezil has been forced to change his band’s name.

For nearly a decade, Dweezil has toured the world performing his father’s music under the act name “Zappa Plays Zappa.” Following the death of Frank’s wife Gail in October of 2015, control of the Zappa Family Trust — which owns Frank Zappa’s music rights — was passed on to Frank’s other children, Ahmet Emuukha Rodan Zappa and Diva Muffin Zappa. A few months later, they threatened Dweezil Zappa with a seven-figure copyright infringement suit if he continued to tour as Zappa Plays Zappa.

“My last name is Zappa; my father was Frank Zappa,” Dweezil complained to The New York Times. “But I am not allowed to use the name on its own. I’m not allowed to use a picture of him. I’m not allowed to use my own connection with him without some sort of deal to be struck.”

Dweezil said he was forced to pay his mother Gail an “exorbitant fee” to use the name Zappa Plays Zappa, but now the Zappa Family Trust is demanding more concessions, including a “grand rights” fee, which is the fee paid when staging someone else’s theatrical work. To get around the Zappa Family Trust’s demands, all of Dweezil’s future shows will be performed under the name “Dweezil Zappa Plays Frank Zappa.”

“It doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue,” he said ruefully. “But this is being done under duress.”

You can read more about the rift between Dweezil and the Zappa Family Trust in this New York Times interview or this Inquisitr article. Neither paints the people running the business side of Frank’s musical legacy in a very positive light.