captain beefheart electricity


history - interviewflits


from england 1 may 1972 CREAM vol.2 #1
by andrew weiner
is 28 and 29 march 1972 interview

note: text and a picture reprinted in england 1977 book THE LIVES AND TIMES OF CAPTAIN BEEFHEART - but with misspelled name of magazine


what does one say to a man who, at the age of three, used to talk with lions inside their cages? how does one cope with such a greeting:

haven't i met you somewhere before?

no, i don't think so, actually.

weren't you at my concert last night? weren't you sitting up there (he points) in a group of seven in a box? that's where i've seen you.

it's all very easy when one is talking to captain beefheart. my journalist's paranoia which had been fed on extravagant media stories of the freakiness of the captain very quickly disappeared. we settled down to the most relaxed conversation i've had with a rock star, and the ever-civil beefheart (don van vliet, if you prefer) proved that his effervescent imagination was not limited to his music or to his 'bon mots' but extended to his everyday dealings with other people.

i should have met you the first day i came into town, he exclaimed, and invited me, whom he insisted on calling a writer - i feel most comfortable in the company of writers. we're not having an interview. this goes deeper than that. and i'm not performing. frankly, i prefer this to being on stage - to join him and his coach on a trip to a concert in brighton the following day.

he sat in a chair in his publicist's office, and as the sun played through the window, it lit him up as one of his dutch ancestors might have appeared in a painting by rembrandt. his quiet and beautiful young wife sat opposite on a sofa reading 'madame bovary'. occasionally, beefheart - who himself claims never to have read a book - would bring her into the conversation.

the rest of the time he talked in his quietly authoritative and all-embracing manner, sometimes, as in his act, incorporating a piece of show business or stylized excess into his rap (such as his opening comment recorded above), often taking himself and his responsibilities very seriously, but never, as far as i was concerned, ego-tripping too violently or laying it on too heavily for my comfort.


a number of friends who saw him in concert over here disagree with me on this point. one found him oppressive and boring, another arrogant and patronizing to his audience. that last view, i suppose, i can understand. there is no false modesty about the captain ('i am a super-star, only the record companies won't allow me to be so').

but such an opinion shows a lack of understanding of beefheart's humour, namely: leaving the stage after playing a short set, crowd shouts and thumps for more, beefheart comes back alone onto stage and whistles the [usa television] theme 'more' and goes off, crowd shouts and thumps some more, beefheart comes back with the band and plays for forty minutes more; and of his desire to involve his audience in a far-out musical and poetic world which he projects in his concerts through a very personal and original rock 'n' roll, not through easy drug-induced imagery and technique.

dope is a natural topic of conversation to turn to with beefheart, since his second album 'strictly personal' came on so strong as an acid album - lots of heavy phasing, song titles like 'i feel like ahcid', packaging which referred pointedly to the 5000 mg. [milligrams (of lsd, a popular heavy soft drug at the time) - t.t.] persona of the captain. it is a subject on which beefheart has some interesting views.

he says that he himself has not smoked pot (= marihuana - t.t.) for some ten years.

and as far as lysergic acid (aka lsd - t.t.) is concerned - i don't like to say things like this because of the habit that people have of trying to make me over into a little capsule somewhere - but, yes, i did have lysergic acid slipped on me seven years ago in honolulu. i don't want to lie about it. and i thought that i had a horrible temperature and that i was really ill. it really didn't feel like real to me. it was corny, man. really like a cheap movie, like one of those american movies where all of a sudden the woman feels faint and the walls go wooor, wooor, wo-oo-or. but i'm a painter, so i've got better imagery than that.

it's a dead scene, man. i think it's over for that stuff, and i wish it had never begun. it's like a disneyland trip. you know, all of a sudden great painters like van gogh are old hat. a fellow that painted the sun, dared to jump into the sun and out of it and paint it. i'm not going to sample every tablet on the table just because it might make me paint my stroke better. it might make me háve a stroke. maybe some people who think they're getting high are having strokes repeatedly.

captain beefheart / don van vliet - london, england spring 1972 - picture by bob mazzur
picture by bob mazzer


he explains 'strictly personal' away as something outside his control. he had mixed the album before he went away to england [in may 1968 - t.t.]. when he came back, his cousin the mascara snake (aka victor haydon - t.t.) played it to him and he found that the record company had completely remixed it, supposedly to make it sound similar to the effects of lysergic acid (abbreviation: lsd - t.t.), and also to hit a specific market that existed. beefheart was furious.

and then all of a sudden 'safe as milk' (his previous album) - now what i meant was: milk wasn't safe any longer, it had strontium 90 in it. but it was interpreted as lysergic. all of a sudden everybody said: 'oh yeah man, really! cool cat!'. i have never tried to be a hip cat.

the idea of being called a genius because somebody thought me a really heavy tablet is kind of horny. it doesn't put me off. but it makes me worry about people who do that. that's really scary. the idea of somebody going like that and all of a sudden my whole being is put into a capsule and thrown over and put under a set category. you know, while you're watching teevee you can be booglarized. your chair can be taken from underneath you. isn't that terrifying, catatonic?

but i can enjoy a good teevee program - well, maybe i can't do it successfully - but i've got enough of the explorer in me to try to do it even if it radiates me. but if your chair is stolen from underneath you, the high point of the program falls down, and you fall down and break your tail bone. that's usually what happens to people who take too much drugs and all of a sudden they say they don't have any imagination and that that pill is their imagination. that's absurd, man. too much vested interest in any one point is varying degrees of disconnection, which is insanity.

of course, 'strictly personal' is not beefheart's only album, although it played a considerable part in establishing him as a star, albeit on false pretences. the captain still hopes to put it out as he intended it to be.

there are a lot of diamonds in the mud. i think it is important to show them.

[note by teejo: a few rambling sentences here, mainly interesting for don's comment on the tracks of the a&m singles:]
'diddy wah diddy',
the old bo diddley number - 'who do you think you're fooling?', about the government, using the statue as liberty as a symbol - 'moon child (written by producer david gates)', about the lighter and darker side of the light, i guess - 'out of the frying pan into the fire', about the lesser of two evils.

we had been talking about his painting.

ornette coleman - he's a good painter. have you heard his 'sci-fi' album? nice, real nice. writing, music, painting - they' re all painting to me. (i told this to a painter friend of mine, and she said: 'funny, they're all music to me'.)

as far as my painting is concerned, i just did it as it took me. that's why i sometimes appear to be late in being a hit. far be it from me to force my way up into whatever the hell it is.

sorry, i wasn't quite with you there.

well, i have the mental facilities to have been a super star a long time ago. you know that as well as i do: 'safe as milk'! if i'd wanted to push it after that, i had done a record just about like it. but i won't do that. i mean, that is sick, in my opinion. that just breaks off all art. it makes another footpath leading to a coca cola. that's a little too sexy for me.

say that again.

think about it. isn't it a little too sexy to keep an erection all the time?...

but i am a super star. as a matter of fact i'm writing an album called 'brown star'. i have it done now, and it'll be the next one out (er, if i remember it right, it was called ' clear spot'.... - teejo). it's not avoiding being a super star that i saw 'brown star'. at the end of the poetry or whatever you call it, it says: 'you ask a child if he's seen a brown star around / and he'll laugh and jump up and down and say: / i found a brown star right on the ground'. i think we're living on a brown star.

i think this planet is as bright as sirius. but i think it is the 'on the other side of the fence the grass is greener' element that is ruining this paradise. and even with people. they say: 'boy, wouldn't i like to be like him', and he says: 'boy, wouldn't i like to be like him'. when everybody's perfect anyway, as long as they don't try to cut off all these blood flows and things which go to make the brain do what it does. you know, like all those weird postures that people adopt. do you know what i mean?

that kind of thing is very hard to deal with. i've been a victim of it myself: i got extremely fat. but i got fat as an experiment to find out what people think at that weight. i mean, you have to know before you can say anything about it. but i don't think it's worth getting into the bullshit to find out what the bull ate when it comes to poison - hard drugs, narcotics and things like that.


so beefheart did not consciously push for superstardom those four or five years ago. he took things easy (or difficult, one might almost say), and made a double album of the music he wanted to play: 'trout mask replica' {and, unnoticed by the interviewer, 'lick my decals off, baby'! - teejo). again there had been great hassles getting the record to be released. but now things are beginning to go his way at last. he managed to withdraw himself from his association with frank zappa, at which name he still grimaces horribly.

he couldn't face you man to man. he could never talk to you like i am doing. he would crawl out of the room.

he started to find the musicians that he wanted and they all moved into different houses on his hundred and ten acre rented estate at eureka on the california-oregon border ('one of the hits of the world' - captain beefheart).

this group - the way it is - has been together three weeks before we came here. so this group has a long life ahead of it. this group will eventually be around each other the real way, will be able to do free music telepathically. i'm not looking for a flash in the pan. you see, it has taken me five years to get this group together. they're men and they're honest and i can appreciate that.

captain beefheart / don van vliet - london, england 28 march 1972 - picture by byron newmanpicture by byron newman
(in stead of the original black and white shot from the same session,
spread over two pages, with an inevitable nasty fold in the middle)

i think it's important that children and older people see a group like that. i'm not saying that i want to be a baby sitter because i'm an artist - because artists, writers, painters and musicians usually become baby-sitters in a society like this, in a society as turbulent as..., as it isn't. because it isn't that turbulent. it has just become too intellectual. i think that there should be some faster moves going on. like moves to stop people poaching on all those beautiful animals in africa. what if your child, if you ever have one, grows up and has to intellectualize a giraffe?


at the moment beefheart writes the music for every instrument in his band. there is nothing in the act that is not scripted beforehand, except for his own particular screeching horn solo.

that's the dolphins speaking through me, man. like i speak through them. like all my act is a reflection of everybody i ever met. i got it from them. that's why i like to play big concerts. i don't want to shove anybody out - because i got it from them. my thing is open-ended. if they praise me, they're only praising themselves.

i asked him why he didn't play any of the music on his first two albums at the albert hall.

well, i don't mind playing it, because i did it then [back in 1968 - t.t.]. but there is no way to go back. that cuts off now, and a lot of butterflies end up like jesus pinned to a wall in a collection. and i don't think it is fair to emulate something that doesn't have blood. far be it from me to bring up that old blood. i did do 'abba zaba', and i thought that sounded way better than it did before, because now i have musicians who are men and much nicer men.

he certainly doesn't have much respect for antiquity, in spite of his eulogy of van gogh. later, on the bus down to brighton, i showed him some colour pictures of tutankhamun from a paper i was reading.

what, you like them? man, you must be hard up, you must be really hard up to like that when there is so much that is better around today.

he really doesn't like that needling lock-you-up-in-a-museum-case mentality, and this, in a way, carries over to his ideas about the dangers and restrictiveness of concert halls.

it's very difficult to go to a concert for somebody in an audience. i think they should stand up and get into it with the musicians. i don't think that people should want someone to sit there like that.

are you playing any dance halls, or something like that then?

well, i don't know. but then again, the way it's set up and everything, if there weren't seats and that amount of organization in it, where somebody sits down, they might tear each other apart. you know, just accidentally, because of being that out of the form. not many people can escape out of the form successfully without backtracking themselves.

what they have to do is let the form come out in everything they do until it doesn't come out any more, then they're there. school sets that up. then what happens if somebody needs to have oxygen or the ambulance? that's why you've got to have organization. but it's whether a guy is nice that organizes something.

again he said that, just as i was leaving, just as we had finished discussing the beatles and he had put down lennon and commended mccartney for playing his free concerts without any fuss:

it's whether a person is nice that matters. that's all that matters.


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flits captain beefheart electricity
as felt by teejo