Right up until a few days ago, we were readying ourselves for this month�s report to the troops with the jolly intent of inaugurating the first of what we were anticipating to be a �regular� feature of this department—namely, a Dan Aykroyd/Leonard Pinth Garnellinspired �Bad Video� honor roll through which we could call attention to those videos which have truly distinguished themselves by being so gloriously and obliviously awful.

So there we were, all set to trumpet the supremely horrendous qualities of such Hall of Sham inductees as Bob Dylan�s �Tight Connection To My Heart,� Planet P�s �Why Me?� and Night Ranger�s �Sister Christian� for, respectively, greatest embarrassment in front of a camera by a major star, least interesting use of shattered glass in an �art� piece, and, lastly, most fascinating way of avoiding too many shots of the drummer singing lead because the bass player was jealous, as well as bestowing a �Lifetime Pass� for continued exceptional bad work to those joyboys from Canadia, Rush, when, unfortunately, we had the, er, privelege, of catching the �sneak preview� of �Le Bel Age,� the. latest video from Pat Benatar. I �Le Bel Age� is a �concept� video starring, in addition to Benatar, real-life comedian Richard Belzer in a �dramatic� role. The action takes place in a seedy dowtown nightspot where, as the �plot� unfolds, we learn that Belzer, in the part of Artie, the club�s headlining stand-up comic, is returning to work after being released from prison. At first we don�t know what Artie has done, and when he tells the bar floozy—who also happens to be his mistress—that he�s been thrown in jail for �being too funny,� we think he�s kidding. Instead, it turns out that that�s ex-

actly why he s been arrested. �Tell him he�s got to tone down the act,� the cigar-chomping club owner barks at the manager.

�The joint is crawlin� with cops, and I don�t make no money with him in the clink.�

Artie eventually takes the stage (occupied during most of the video by Benatar, doing �Le Bel Age� while dangling a cigarette, Edith Piaf style), and, sure enough, there are policemen standing in the wings as he launches into a monologue rife with such �controversial� topics as sex (�Hi, girls,� he says to a trio

of gigglers at a nearby table. �Are those new hairdos, or are you just glad to see me?�) and politics (there�s a reference to actor Ronald Reagan thinking about running for public office,

which bizarrely throws what�s looked like a contemporarily set video back into the late �50s)*, and, after a few shots of Benatar laughing at the jokes, the video ends, the �drama� suspended.

Well, now, you tell me. What do you think of the fact that the makers of this video have thought absolutely nothing of taking the very real^and very sad—-life story of comedian Lenny Bruce, who was repeatedly persecuted, harassed, and incarcerated by the supposed protectors of the public good throughout the �60s for being a

�dangerous� performer, and whose career wound down to a pathetic standstill until he was found dead on a toilet seat with a needle sticking out of his arm, and turning it into just so much

superficial, casual pap with which to hawk a piece of vinyl? In the world of rock �n� roll, tastelessness is a word that hardly ever pops up; in many respects, it�s part and parcel of the whole gestalt. With the appearance of �Le Bel Age,� however, we�ve reached—or, rather, been lowered—to a new level. Suffice to say that I have finally been morally disgusted by a rock video; which, I suppose, marks some kind of signpost on that long road of life.

SNAP SHOTS Lights! Camera! Pout! Robert Palmer, �Addicted to Love�—First he just looked at them from afar. Then he started following them around town. And now, believe' it or not, here�s Robert Palmer actually among women! Of course, he doesn�t actually touch any of the nubile young bondage nymphs who are icily lip-instrumentalizing all around him. (Actually, rumor has it that they had to keep shooting take after take after take because one of the girls—I think it was the one who was allowed to blink—kept accidentally bumping into Palmer and ruining his, er, mood.) What�s next, Bobbo? Eye contact without guilt?... Regress Is Our Most Important Product: ABC, �How To Be A Millionaire�—If the video for �Be Near Me� looked like an unused segment from SCTV�s Pre-Teen World telethon, then this thing could be a long-lost Josie And The Pussycats episode. Then again, if this crew decided to turn into the Archies, I don�t think there�d be many complaints from the pee-wee gallery; they�re a lot more tolerable in two dimensions than in three ...Rocky Balboa, Go Straight To The Ghetto: James Brown, �Living In America�—Yes, I know that, outside of Dolph�s designer metal mouthpiece, the only good thing to come out of Rocky IV > is the Godfather of Soul�s first hit in eons. But that�s good enough for me—unless JB and Lundgren wind up tag team partners in the World Wrestling Federation. Then my StalloneMcMahon conspiracy theory will be proved correct, and life on earth shall cease...

TV DINNER B THE POOL

FRANK ZAPPA:

Does Humor Belong In Music? (MPI Video)

by Dave DiMartino

Does humor belong in 1 music?

Glad you asked, Frank. 1

Frank Zappa has been dealing in heavy irony since 1 his earliest days with the ■ Mothers Of Invention, and you can just bet that question is dripping with it. But ask if humor belongs in music on August 26, 1984, the night this live concert was videotaped in New York, and you might get an answer you won�t especially like, Frank: Sure. You got any?

Something went sour with Frank Zappa around the time of 1973�s Over-Nite Sensation. The original Mothers were long since on their own, recording dull records as Geronimo Black or Ruben & The Jets; Flo & Eddie had their own revitalized careers to pursue after 200 Motels; Zappa had jokes about dental floss. Lots of jokes about dental floss. Right around then is when Zappa started asking questions like �Does humor belong in music?� Right around then is when Zappa started asking it because he was getting bad reviews— consistent bad reviews—for the first time in his life.

The music just didn�t feel right. The best Mothers album, Uncle Meat, combined Zappa�s most intricate musical arrangements with songs like �Sleeping In A Jar� and �Cruising For Burgers,� and together the humor and the music blended perfectly. But around the time of Hot Rats a dichotomy began to emerge: there�d be �serious� LPs like Waka/Jawaka and The Grand Wazoo, each pursuing Zappa�s jazz/classical leaning, and �funny� ones like Apostrophe and Roxy & Elsewhere, with tracks like �Don�t Eat The Yellow Snow�

and �Penguin In Bondage.� Sure, I know it�s relative—but the songs weren�t funny.

If you�re my age and you followed Zappa since Freak Out, at some point you had to ask yourself: is it just me? The answer wasn�t clear; intuitively, you knew �Call Any Vegetable� was better than �Dinah-Moe Humm,� but you�d be damned if you could explain why. Years later I can look back and see that the former has a special innocence or naivete about it that the latter lacks. I can also see a certain cynicism emerging in Zappa-as-careerist at the time: Apostrophe, the first of his truly disappointing albums, was also his biggest seller. Unfortunately, it set the stage for his next 10 albums: lots of �funny� songs, with the �serious� ones buried amid the weenie jokes.

A lot of oldtime Zappa fans

stopped listening, and he knew it. That�s why he called his best album in years Shut Up �N Play Yer Guitar. Three discs worth of Zappa shutting up and playing his guitar, it was one of 1981�s better albums—and also only available through the mail. Zappa had turned his back on most everyone—older fans, the press, the record industry—and become a corporation unto himself. It was a smart business move, and a revealing one.

Frank Zappa appears to trust nobody.

Does Humor Belong In Music?, from its very title, displays that lack of trust. Zappa does not like critics; he feels they are telling him to stop the jokes, to shut up and play his guitar. He belittles the critics— a// critics—and says that people do not like him because he sings about controversial topics,

because he is �anti-drug,� and for lots of other reasons. He implies that he is facing oppression, that to not like him is to deny him his right to free speech, to actively censor that which should not be censored.

He overlooks the fact that he is often not very funny at all.

Frank Zappa's biggest flaw, as far as I can see, is that sometime in the early �70s or so he became a cornball. It�s not that his lyrics were too juvenile, anal, phallic or caustic—the Beach Boys� �Johnny Carson� ain�t exactly Kierkegaard, but it�s brilliant—it�s that they were entirely predictable, cloying and dull. DULL. Everything that Frank Zappa never used to be.

This tape is dull, too. It starts off wonderfully, with an instrumental, �Zoot Allures,� on which Zappa shuts up and plays his guitar. But soon after, he puts that guitar down—and then come the homo jokes, the record company executive jokes, the homo jokes, the yuppie jokes, the Boy George jokes, the homo jokes and more. Much more. And he�s got a fine band with him, he really does—Ray White, Ike Willis, Bobby Martin, Allan Zavod, Scott Thunes, Chad Wackerman, if you care. He does a version of �Trouble Cornin� Every Day� that sounds as slick and Vegas-ized as �America Drinks And Goes Home� did—but this one�s no joke. He plays �Whipping Post,� and as usual tries to make fun of it—but strategically, he plays it at show�s end. Why? Maybe because it�s more exciting than most of his own songs. Sad but true.

Zappa�s by no means a lost cause in the �80s: he�s made two superb orchestral records in the past few years, and his latest— Frank Zappa Meets The Mothers Of Prevention—is his best since Shut Up �N Play Yer Guitar. It would be nice if this videocassette were anywhere near as good. As it is, though, Does Humor Belong In Music?, for all its hi-fi digital sound, displays very little humor indeed.

Frankly, if I were Zappa, I wouldn�t have asked.