IN SEARCH OF AMERICA
captain beefheart and the smithsonian institute blues

from usa [and england] 1 april 1971 ROLLING STONE #79
by langdon winner
is second half january and early february 1971 interview / feature

notes:
  * (partly?) reprinted in SPANISH translation as ¿quién es el capitán beefheart? in mexico 1 august 1971 PIEDRA RODANTE #4
* reproduced in usa 2007 (book+4dvd)boxset ROLLING STONE * COVER TO COVER 40 years of rolling stone 1967-2007

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

*

'rolling,' gestured the engineer in the control room.... 'today we have in our studio captain beefheart whose famous orchestra is on tour of the east coast. would you tell us, captain, what kind of music it is that you perform?...' there was a long silence, just long enough to be embarrassing.

'well, basically it's music without a lullabye.'

wingate winced and quickly asked if he would care to be more specific for the benefit of the listening audience at home. this time the pause was even longer and more embarrassing.

'i suppose it's music to de-materialize the catatonia,' beefheart answered finally.

sensing the fact that the interview was about to fall on its face, wingate tried other lines of questioning. 'what do you think of john lennon? do you think that music has anything to do with the sexual revolution happening in our society?' the captain's answers continued to be brief and completely unsuited to the glib w.o.r. format. at last wingate jumped up from his seat, waved his arms frantically at the engineer and paced into the control room. 'this man seems to be talking epileptically,' he scoffed. 'it's interesting to me personally, of course, but it won't hold the attention of middle america. chuck berry didn't offer us such problems when he came by.'

after some hasty consultation with van vliet's entourage, it was finally decided that one of the captain's friends should join the interview as a kind of stabilizing agent. with that minor adjustment, the conversation proceeded nicely. each time beefheart would utter a particularly different metaphorical construction, the w.o.r. announcer was able to turn to a straight man and ask him the question. wingate admitted afterwards that he'd had a good time and thanked beefheart for dropping in.

most of the people at the conference enjoyed the display and even managed to join in. there was one fellow, however, a young scraggly-haired reporter from changes, who just couldn't handle it. 'i've heard that you have remarkable powers of e.s.p.,' he began with a serious note in his voice. 'have you ever thought of having someone measure what you can do?'

beefheart grinned and replied: 'well, no. i'm really not interested in knowing the length of my wee-wee.'

the young reporter was taken aback by van vliet's answer and quickly rephrased the question. beefheart, however, could find nothing but fun in the suggestion that he submits his mind to some para-psychological testing procedure. 'maybe i ought to offer myself to 'car and driver'? i could accompany them with an unicycle and they could run all the tests they like.'

despite this setback, the man from changes continued with his list of carefully prepared questions. what do you think about musical structure? what were the major influences in your musical education? do you think that your music has any relationship to 'the revolution'? it was difficult to believe that at this late date anyone would bother with such antique matters. captain beefheart, bearing the burden politely, answered as best as he could. 'i think musical structure is really a laugh. it's like having a kite in one hand and a balloon in the other.' he stood up and with arms spread wide illustrated the kite and balloon concept. 'frankly, i don't think you need all of those sand bags to keep your river in place.'

the changes correspondent was anything but pleased with responses of this sort. 'on the one hand you say you don't believe in musical structure, but on the other hand...' - 'i have a manicure!,' interjected the captain. the room filled with laughter.

at this point the interviewer began to break down. 'i keep trying to get straight answers out of you,' he whined, 'but you won't give me any. i guess i'm just wasting your time. i don't know why you're being so hostile to me.' beefheart sat forward and stared at the young man in stunned amazement. he'd been having fun - not at the interviewer's expense, but at the expense of the english language. he believes, you see, that language is a kind of bank account from which anyone, on their own terms, can make unlimited withdrawals - 'as the duck says: 'bill me later'.'

'you keep asking me to hit you,' beefheart groaned, 'but i'm not going to do it.' 'don't worry, i'm not going to get upset,' the reporter replied. then, as if to ease the tension, beefheart suddenly took off one of his shoes and held it in the air. 'do you think you could take this bubble gum off my shoe?' 'i really don't want to. it might give me allergies.' 'that's a rash statement,' the captain mumbled. in a valiant last effort to get some straight answers for his straight questions, the changes reporter asked: 'what i want to know is this: if you don't read books and don't listen to records, where do you get your input from?' 'g.e. (general electric, an electricity company - t.t.),' van vliet answered, lighting a cigarette. 'what i wonder is how you pull the plug.'

with that the young journalist started packing away his cassette recorder. 'you haven't given me a single thing i can use,' he said sadly. he simply could not comprehend that the man he had been interviewing almost never gives his listeners anything they can 'use'. captain beefheart believes that human beings inevitably end up using everything that can be 'used' as weapons against themselves. whenever possible, the poor creatures will cling desperately to the structures those in authority hand them - structures of melody, rhythm, speech, thought and social behavior. they then use these structures ruthlessly to restrict everything they might possibly see, feel or do. 'the heartbeat, the clock - tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock - that steady, repetitive rock and roll beat, it's all the same. a crutch job. people ought to stop hanging onto those things and loosen up.'

it is for reasons of this sort that beefheart sets himself apart from other musicians. he holds that, unlike the music of the beatles and rolling stones, his work could never be used as a source for a new authority or ideology. when you go to his albums looking for 'the truth', all you find are some colorful pictures and fascinating riddles. beefheart is a clever trickster. at first the traditional structures appear to be firmly in place. but on closer inspection you discover that the captain has offered you a three-legged chair. either you stand on your own or you fall over.

how people and other 'things' are 'used' in the music business is a subject on which both captain beefheart and ry cooder are expert. both men have been taken advantage of so often by so many people they've lost count. there was a time, in fact, when cooder and van vliet played together in a group that ran aground on the reefs of commercial exploitation. during a long bus ride from cocoa beach, florida to fort lauerdale, i asked ry to discuss the unfortunate circumstances.

'beefheart has always told me,' i said, 'that you quit the magic band in 1967 and ruined his chance to play the monterey pop festival.' 'he's right on that point,' said ry, 'but you have to keep the full context in mind. bob krasnow was pushing the group to perform before it was ready. no one could play those incredible songs don had written for 'safe as milk'. at the mount tamalpais music festival we played three songs and, believe me, it wasn't going very well. in the middle of 'electricity' beefheart walked off the stage and fell flat on his face into the grass. i told krasnow: 'this is ridiculous,' and quit right then. he said: 'what's the matter, don't you want to be an underground hero?' krasnow thought the group would be worth millions and wanted to start making it right then and there.'

certainly a new feeling of freedom from misuse must have contributed to beefheart's exuberance on the trip. for after years of management and promotion by small-time con men, the captain was now the favorite child of large-scale corporate capitalism. before we continue with the tour itself, it might be interesting to detour briefly through the strange realm of financial and organizational power....

*

under normal conditions an artist will schedule a concert or tour through a booking agency. in this case the agency had nothing to do with it. beefheart's nominal representative, chartwell artists ltd., was busy handling the hype for the ali vs. frazier heavyweight championship fight and had no time to waste hustling gigs for a relatively obscure artist. although beefheart certainly had a following large enough to warrant a national tour, the jobs were just not coming in.

one day last fall, beefheart visited warner records and spoke to merchandising director hal halverstadt. 'i want to start playing for the people,' he announced. 'why don't you put me on tour?'

by the traditional rules of the game, halverstadt should have nothing to do with organizing tours. his work primarily involves the packaging of warners / reprise 'products' for quick market sale - album design, promo literature, advertising, and so on. but in this instance halverstadt thought to himself: 'hell, why not?', and approached warner executives stan cornyn and mo ostin with the idea.

shortly thereafter the company hired carl scott, former manager of the beau brummels and harpers bizarre, to begin booking a captain beefheart tour. scott had long believed record companies should get into the booking business to introduce new artists to the public. he started phoning concert promoters around the country. the deal he offered was a good one. warner brothers would absorb most of the risk in the beefheart venture. it would ask a reasonable sum for the beefheart/cooder package and waive the minimum guarantee if necessary. it would also spend large amounts of money on local promotion, namely radio spots for each concert.

the response to scott's inquiry was good. if warners was willing to take some of the responsibility, local promoters were more than willing to do their part. in the present business ethos of rock and roll, it is common practice for groups to ask such exorbitant amounts for concerts that promoters are driven out of business. the warners package was one way of escaping this financial bind.

from the artists' standpoint the deal also was a fortuitous one. their expenses were guaranteed, plus a standard per concert salary. for beefheart and the magic band this amounted to $1,000 for every gig. the most important part of the bargain, however, was the exposure they would gain from playing in twenty or so major cities in the united states. it was hoped that in subsequent months, both beefheart and cooder could return to places they had played and ask for larger halls and a better price.

from a purely selfish point of view the company's logic was simple. public appearances create a new kind of appeal for any performer - exactly the kind of appeal that makes people buy records. for this reason, warner brothers was actually willing to take a loss - possibly as much as $20,000 - in order to give beefheart and cooder some first rate promotion. as the tour progressed across the continent, receiving rave reviews everywhere, cornyn, halverstadt and ostin waited for the real reviews to come in. would the record stores and distributors begin ordering more 'product'? [...snip...]

IF YOU WANT TO KNOW HOW THIS ENDS, CLICK CLACK TO PAGE FOUR