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FZ Memory #1
3 October 1975
Paramount Theater
Portland, Oregon
by Sam Rouse
October 3, 1975 - a group of friends at Oregon State U. obtain tickets for a Zappa performance at the Portland Paramount Theater. Still basking in the glow of "Roxy & Elsewhere" and "One Size Fits All" (which have scarcely left our turntables since their release), it is with high expectations that we make the trip north. Only one of our group has been to a Zappa concert before, which featured the Roxy band (more or less) and he is still raving about what a great show it had been.
We arrive in the Land of the Ports early in the day and head for the line that is already snaking its way around the Paramount (ah, the glorious days of festival seating...weren't they festive?). Parked behind the theater is a bus which, at first glance, appears to be a Greyhound bus, but instead has "Phydeaux" emblazoned on its side in that unmistakeable Greyhound style, led by a dorky-looking, crosseyed dog exclaiming "Arf!" This does nothing to lessen our impatience for the show to begin.
After the interminable wait in line (punctuated by a few entertaining moments, such as the guys running a 3-Card Monty scam on the sidewalk) we get to go in and are wondering what to expect, hoping for Ruth, George, & co. First we're treated to the opening act, Caravan, who may or may not have had a drum sola (thanks to Fast Frank for reminding me of this). Finally the FZ band comes to the stage, and after the shouts of the audience die down, Frank announces that this is a new band which has only rehearsed for 2 weeks, and this is their first performance - so pardon the rough spots. It turns out to be the small band featured on parts of "Zoot Allures" (not yet released), with Napoleon Murphy Brock, Roy Estrada, Andre Lewis and Terry Bozzio.
They proceed to launch into a mostly instrumental show, mainly unfamiliar (at least to me, being a relative newcomer to FZ). The only songs I remember recognizing were Stinkfoot (which featured a bit of stage absurdity involving Frank and a mechanical poodle on a leash) and San Ber'dino.
Unfortunately, it was just not a great show. Frank seemed unhappy with the sound (I was too - we were seated toward the back, beneath the balcony, and at least from there it was very muddy), and even bored at times. Just before the guitar solo in Stinkfoot, the line was "and as I've said _so_ many times before - Sick!" The audience was awful - all through the show folks were yelling "Frank!" "Mud Shark!" and "Dinah Moe Humm!" hoping to turn the concert into the vaudevillian freak show that many of them had apparently come to see. At one point, Frank interrupted a guitar solo long enough to say, "Hey, shut the fuck up for this song." There were no encores.
Afterward, making the long drive back to Corvallis in the wee hours of the morning (and fighting to stay awake at the wheel), I see a shape looming in the fog on the freeway, and some lights along the side. Almost too late, I slow down and change lanes, and as we drive past see that it is a car lying upside down in the middle of the left lane. No one appears to be in it, and there are a couple of other cars parked on the shoulder. The mood in my car has become somber (actually not much of a leap from before); perhaps a note of creepiness, as though someone has walked across our graves. Somehow, this seems to complete the feeling for a day that had started with such eager expectance.
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