Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention in the '60s

In 1965, bass player Roy Estrada invited his friend Frank Zappa to join his R&B group, the Soul Giants. A short time after joining, Zappa convinced his new band mates Estrada, drummer Jimmy Carl Black, and singer Ray Collins to devote themselves instead to his own outrageous, irreverent, unpredictable, flat-out weird music. He promised them wealth and fame. The Soul Giants were game, and so began the Mothers of Invention.

Four years and a few added band members later, the Mothers of Invention had staked out their own piece of turf in the music world, owing as much to the band's chemistry, daring, theatrics and musicianship as it did to Zappa's leadership, drive and creativity. The Mothers played sold-out shows to a rabid following. And then Zappa broke up the band.

He continued performing for another two decades, up to his death of prostate cancer in 1993, fronting an ever-changing lineup of stellar musicians. But the documentary Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention in the '60s argues that the original Mothers of Invention were the best and the most memorable of all the Zappa bands.

The documentary moves steadily forward, paced with a rich collection of photos, home movie footage, TV show clips and audio recordings. For every anecdote or comment there's a corresponding image or song. Some of the narration is by on-camera comments from Zappa biographer Ben Watson, music writer Richie Unterberger, journalist Alan Clayson, author and musician Billy James, and producer Kim Fowley. But the juiciest moments, though, are the recollections and anecdotes from some of the Mothers themselves, Jimmy Carl Black, Bunk Gardner, Don Preston, and Art Tripp.

In high school, Zappa played drums with an R&B band and he had a passion for blues and doo-wop. But when he discovered an Edgard Varèse recording, that set him off on a lifelong course of experimental composition. In footage from the old Steve Allen Show, a young, nerdy, clean-cut Zappa in a suit and short, slicked-back hair, grins an "aw, shucks" grin at Allen's joshing but still exudes confidence as he directs Allen's band in a piece of experimental chance music. Zappa plays a bicycle with drumsticks while Allen "brapps" trumpetlike into the handlebars

The Mothers' first album in 1966, Freak Out, was a pandora's box of odd, fragmented music, a Dadaist Spike Jones concoction. Schmaltzy lounge music segued into rock licks, musique concrète, surf, Sprechgesang, light teen pop, free jazz, doo-wop, bebop, and beyond.

The documentary deftly contrasts the Mothers' deranged image and music with vintage '60s footage of strobe-lit white kids—girls with heavy mascara and tight Capri pants and boys with long bangs and bell-bottoms—dancing in that ecstatically herky jerky mod, "a go go" way to a soundtrack of Farfisa organs and surfy Stratocasters.

In early 1967, the Mothers—which now included keyboardist Don Preston and woodwind player Bunk Johnson—moved from Los Angeles to New York and landed a steady six-month gig. Despite the complexity of Zappa's compositions, he did not want the band reading music on stage, so the Mothers memorized everything. They practiced the dense music eight bars at a time until they could nail a piece in time for that night's show. The morning after a show they were back at the theater rehearsing for hours. Bunk Gardner looked exasperated as he said, "Whatever I learned one day was changed the next day." Jimmy Carl Black said, "We were certainly the most rehearsed band in the world."

In 1968, the Mothers released a sort-of straight-laced recording, Cruising with Ruben and the Jets, a tongue-in-cheek but sincere recording of pure '50s doo-wop. The songs were so authentic-sounding that many people thought it actually was an old album. Still, here and there amid the vintage falsetto and bass lines are Zappa touches, such as at the end of "Fountain of Love" where the wordless background vocals quote the oboe line from the opening of Stravinsky's Rite of Spring.

By 1969, the Mothers had several recordings out and they were touring worldwide. Zappa had formed two record labels and he was producing other acts. Yet even though the Mothers had achieved the fame that Zappa promised the Soul Giants, the band members weren't taking home any significant amounts of money. And then Zappa fired the band.

The shock and betrayal is evident as Black, Gardner, and Preston retell the story. Black is clearly bitter and hurt as he said, "That was pretty heavy. And pretty cold, man." In a perverse visual touch, displayed prominently behind Black is a large oil portrait of Zappa.

Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention in the '60s is a well-told story and a window into the Mothers' creative process. While it true that Zappa was a groundbreaking composer and bandleader, the rest of the band were groundbreakers with him. The Mothers not only had the chops, they also had a camaraderie and playfulness that fit the bizarre burlesque of the tunes. They helped give birth to a sound that didn't exist before.

The documentary benefits from an abundance of footage and photos. There are no full performances but it is rich with snippets of music. The focus of the film is on the interviewees; the music punctuates their statements. And while the opining and anecdotes by the critics gives the story its context, it's the Mothers' reminiscences that add value. It's a pleasure to hear the band members' stories and to savor the ingredients that each tossed into the musical stew.