It’s a real sign of notoriety and genius when a band’s music can outlive its composer.

Back in their heyday, these two groups were some of the strangest around, playing what many regarded at the time as the most out-this-world rock you could imagine.

Captain Beefheart’s Magic Band and Frank Zappa’s Grandmothers Of Invention were masters of sonic madness, fusing elements of jazz, rock, and r n’ b into huge complex orchestrations. Both were at the forefront of what became the psychedelic movement.

The Grandmothers were up first at the Corner Hotel. Rumour-filled conversations were rife, with the audience trying to guess what songs would be heard from the collection of over 2000 that Zappa had penned. Others, however, were simply happy to reminisce about past shows.

“I saw them in ‘72,” one punter mentioned to another.

“71 for me,” he returns.

“76,” a third says with a small knowing nod.

Woodwind player Bunk Gardner, bassist David Parlato, and singer/keyboardist Don Preston form the original section of the band, with Christopher Garcia on drums and young gun ‘Mad’ Max Kutner on the guitar.

Nerve-racking for some or confidence boosting for others, being asked to play Zappa’s part in the band must have been a real coup for Kutner, who is probably about half the age of the other members.

However, the musician’s playing was true to the original songs, with solos Zappa himself would have called sonic sculptures. The call and response between his guitar and Preston’s keys was captivating, especially during the band’s version of ‘Hey Joe’, where Kutner was given the opportunity to really let loose.

Midway through ‘Go Cry On Somebody Else’s Shoulder’, Gardner performed a saxophone solo consisting of random off kilter notes while he writhed around on the floor. Antics like this gave the feeling of watching a real Zappa show and not just a nostalgic rehashing.

Led by original drummer John ‘Drumbo’ French, The Magic Band burst onto the stage with an energy hiding their years. The other members from the Captain Beefheart days were guitarist Denny ‘Feelers Rebo’ Walley and bassist Mark ‘Rockette Morton’ Boston.

Guitarist Eric Klerks and drummer Andrew Niven made up the young guard, but by no means looked like outsiders in the band. Walley and Klerks were having great fun together messing around on stage; at one point, the two guitarists met face-to-face, and while strumming their own guitars, played the necks of the other’s.

The band members were an absolute force on their instruments, with each giving an extended solo at some point during the over hour and a half set. Morton’s bass solo lasted about five minutes without ever becoming cold or stolid. He strutted around the stage, trying to control the beast that had come alive in his hands.

The band played a down-and-out dirty type of blues, enough to leave you feeling a bit sick in the pit of your stomach. It was like the slime was being peeled off the bottom of a swamp and was pouring out of the speakers and into your ears.

The Magic Band and The Grandmothers Of Invention are two bands that ended up garnering an international audience, but never quite hit terminal levels of popularity – a factor that’s hard to believe.

Music advances through popularity of genres, and that generally depends on commercial viability. If for once we just forgot about money and popularised music that pushes the boundaries of creativity, then who knows the leaps and bounds we could take as a society.

For more information, listen to Zappa’s ‘I’m The Slime’.

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