captain beefheart electricity


history - interviewflits

i'm not even here, i just stick around for my friends

from usa [and england] 14 may 1970 ROLLING STONE #58
by langdon winner
is early months 1970 feature

* reproduced in usa 2007 (book+4dvd)boxset ROLLING STONE * COVER TO COVER 40 years of rolling stone 1967-2007
* text of 'wisdom' reprinted as captain beefheart in usa 1974 book ROLLING STONE * THE ROLLING STONE ROCK 'N' ROLL READER

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - THIS is PART 4



there are only forty people in the world and five of them are hamburgers.
everybody's colored or else you wouldn't be able to see them.
god's doing the jerk and it's the jerk's fault for letting him do it. (title of a poem.)
think about the poor rhinoceros. he's in trouble because people think his horn is good for sex. they grind it up as a potion for sex. we're lucky they don't find out about our teeth. (the secret of our teeth, according to beefheart, is that like elephants' tusks, they're made of ivory.)
i don't want to sell my music. i'd like to give it away because where i got it, you didn't have to pay for it.
do you know what i mean? (asked at the end of every beefheart sentence.)
everybody drinks from the same pond.
on the vietnam war: 'it's getting pretty desperate when you have to shoot somebody with a bullet just to say 'hello'.
i'm not really here, i just stick around for my friends.


important! this feature also was larded with FOUR POEMS and a DRAWING!:


later became the lyrics of the SONG on 1982 album ICE CREAM FOR CROW reprinted 1982 inner sleeve ice cream for crow
reprinted germany 1985 catalog don van vliet * sechs bilder
reprinted switzerland 1987 book don van vliet * skeleton breath, scorpion blush
reprinted italy 1996 book luca ferrari * pearls before swine ice cream for crows
some small typing errors have been corrected

hey garland i dig your tweed coat
i'll trade you a domino this size
mothballs scented
the woman silk nude tie
painting his chest
one celluloid stay, exposed through his nibbled collar
feet speckled the sidewalk
faces gurgled through windows
passing cars gum rubber streaks
neon plants swim like green seaweed to a deep rhythm of blues
red thyroid sunsets
flame and speckled chemistry
pipes run off dark tubes
erase into marks that pour the dye of darkness
crystal comes together as silent as ink
i don't think i could let it go, i got it at the religious scene
teeth let go
tobacco juice
an oiled balloon
brown eye in an egg whit
black tar bubbles in stripes
a straw hat squeaked on the brim of a feather
newsprint thumbed through nicotine fingers
a dark olive was turned on
its small pulp speaker, burst into a scream
one large tomato was immediately peeled skin red
it bled into a red 'o' and smacked behind accepted fangs
quick eyebrows danced cutely above a mole
the front was smooth
it gradually gathered and wrinkled at the holes
a dark wooden moustache deposited below above chinese red varnished lips
that dented slightly into the evening
'it's gotten quite cold - i've decided i can't sell you my coat'
honking the wind puffed into the clumps above the lattice rows
and out looked panatella
naked and not ashamed
without no clothes wiggle pig went snout first into a tree
the rubber turkey was gobbled up by night's dark rubber mouth
a white phosphorous raindrop dropped in the sky
hot silhouettes in a convertible
gave this a applause
and several white porcelain trays were rolled in by bumble bees
their wings arranged with pictures out of the past
and the rainbow baboon gobbled fifteen fisheyes with each spoon
pockets was caught at window level
approaching the fractured glass dripping in light he spoke
i just looked at myself
and from here to there it ain't far enough
but from here to there
it's too short
and circles don't fly, they float
pena exclaimed
and went on to say
'sun shore did shine this year
who'd you look like underneath?'

don van vliet 1970


italy 1996 book luca ferrari * pearls before swine ice cream for crows


sun showers danced like
dye darker green shadows
light on green leaves
played bamboo golden
light organ pipes
wooden 'n' olden
down finickey halls
shadows leaped like lizards scaling
flower eyes trailing random vines
tales that curl-ee-cued
beans that hung green light berries
buttrefly's grasp upside down
in pain
lovely in their rapture
golden dust
golden winged eels slither apart
bleeding life's light on to the ground
'n' quiver down golden light
corny little yellow horns blew petals
stem riddles
bees ride fat honey
legged drips
center pulp splinters
her flowered eye
a legend on a rock she scribbles
a dew drop pops
up in the 'sun dawn dance'

don van vliet 1970


also one of the poems gary lucas recited during the 1980-81 'doc at the radar station' live performances

inside the tub-ette on the small duplex tile shadow of my hand made a movie wolf head the dangling cigarette made a long fire tipped tube resembling a smoking fang which curled from his mouth to my mouth then slowly into the peeled back tiny mouths of the flaky enamel ceiling above my shaggy head a test of endurance metered by what with things changing this fast i drown the soggy creature through his wet butt out of the bath tub-ette trembling as it was a small room with a very large open window he bounced and disappeared off the sill into morning aching and yawning like a neglected tooth that took root in both night and day.

don van vliet 1970


some small typing errors have been corrected

the beep seal
i saw once as a child
so lifelike it almost made me cry
it stared with its eye glass
and one glue bubble
caught on its whiskers
its mouth was closed
so as not to insult the observer
its canine teeth were red plastic
'n' its molars were stained green by straw
excluding it from the carnivores and
putting it in the vegetarian bracket
all of this i viewed from the mistake in
the side of the jaw
by pressing my cheek up close
to the glass on the other side
of the red felt roped off area
this side of the jaw was obviously not intended
for public observation
or was the ripped stitch flipper
that was carelessly tucked under in a futile
attempt to hide the careless workmanship
which only added to the agony i felt
for the display that lived once again
hurriedly put together...
there was a small crack in the glass that
emitted the odor of string footballs
and formaldehyde and salt water
the mites balanced on the tiny feather collars
the red tinfoil hummingbird bones -
siper neglected but one flower on the bush
this odor faded quickly with a feeling of torn muscle
and a burning in my armpits as i was yanked
by a hard hand and told tears streaming down my face
magnifying my tiny shoes into shiny leather monsters
that i was only to view
life on the other side
of the red felt
roped off
designated area

don van vliet 1970


captain beefheart / don van vliet -
                            untitled drawing 1970 rolling stone

don van vliet 1970


perhaps you're interested in more examples of don's non-musical art?

click clack back to the history, return to the power station or search on

flits captain beefheart electricity
as felt by teejo