Review Summary: A record that is all the while discombobulating, dissonant and random...yet so much character, passion, and weirdness that creates and atmosphere like no other.
If you have heard of Captain Beefheart (Don Van Vliet), you've probably heard some alarming stories. He basically did everything he could to achieve the particular sounds he wanted on this record, in the most disturbing and intense ways he possibly could. Whether it be locking his band mates in a barrel for days to gain complete emotional and artistic control over them, or physically abusing them. The band (with Frank Zappa as producer) took to a rented house in Woodland Hills, Los Angeles and would practice for hours a day on end for months. From what I have read about Beefheart, his artistic visions were an absolute necessity on this project...pretty much indicating that his ideas were the only "relevant" ideas for Trout Mask Replica.
Now let's talk about the music.
Trout Mask Replica is a variety of sounds that will fly around your head until you're worn out. The song structure is completely unorthodox in every way, shape and form, in a positive way of course. The instrumentation behind Beefhearts raspy, multi-octave vocals are quite cacophonous and oddly jump from one transition to the next. The album provides much interest to the listener (at least for me) through the unique guitar work, abstract lyrics and hooks. One of the main things that draw my interest toward this album is the noisy, discordant dueling guitar work from Bill Harkleload and Jeff Cotton. In the midst of the shouted vocals and rolling drums, the guitars simultaneously bark and shout back at each other, waiting to be unleashed. Especially songs like “Moonlight on Vermont” and “Frownland,” which fenetically circulate around your head space. There is much use of polyrhythms, which makes the music a challenge to bump your head to. Along with these instruments, sometimes an occasional use of horns and field recordings will throw the listener off. For example, “Hair Pie: Bake 1” begins with these inharmonious, harsh horns that slowly creep in and out of your ear. These horns are so absonant and grating that it sounds as if the instrument is being brutally beaten to a pulp as it’s crying for help. The whole band then seems to subtly follow as background music, as the rest of the band’s volume seems to be turned down temporarily or as if it’s heard off in the distance. The next transition is quite abrupt, as a guitar in the left channel (what seems to be a diminished chord) digs into your left ear. The instrumentation for the rest of the song seems to trip and stumble on top of each other. Until it unexpectedly stops and a field recording begins. It begins with a woman and man walking up to Beefheart as it seems he leaves the session to smoke a cigarette. They proceed to ask him who is the band playing in the house, he answers their questions and responds to them in a weird, uncomfortable way. These field recordings give the record even more character and even more of an uncanny atmosphere than what’s already presented through the music.
There’s much more to discuss about this album, but I’d rather not spoil it and leave the rest for the listener. It’s definitely not a simple album to indulge in. It’s probably not an album you can listen to while doing homework, and I definitely would not show this album to somebody who doesn’t listen to weird music. It’s a work of art that needs to be treated with patience and delicacy. It’s a very strange, obscure piece or music that will probably not be simple to take in upon first listen. However, once this album is fully absorbed (or at least to some extent) you will find that is a masterpiece.
