Some artists like to keep their audiences on their toes.
Frank Zappa liked to keep his in a state of perpetual bewilderment.
There’s no other way to explain Cruising with Ruben and the Jets, Zappa’s third album of 1968. After
mercilessly lampooning straight-ahead rock and R&B for years, suddenly here
is an album on which Zappa and his Mothers lovingly perform tunes that could be
1950s standards, without a trace of irony. Even songs that were played as
parody on Freak Out appear here,
completely straight.
It was released under the Ruben and the Jets moniker, with
only a word balloon on the front cover to give the game away: “Is this the
Mothers of Invention recording under a different name in a last-ditch attempt
to get their cruddy music on the radio?” The original Mothers, of course, were
a mainstream R&B band before Zappa took the reins, so in an odd way, this
feels like a prequel rather than the next chapter of the MOI story.
Zappa plays the farce to the hilt, inventing a backstory for
Ruben Sano and his band – one that has more to do with cars and girls and
greasy hairdos than music. The packaging may lead you to expect some sarcasm
here, some acknowledgement that this music is somehow beneath the band that
created We’re Only In It for the Money.
But besides Zappa’s description of the proceedings as “an album of cretin
simplicity,” there’s nothing here to suggest that this is not a labor of love.
In fact, the only logical conclusion is that Zappa truly adores
this type of music. He would return to it again and again, dropping R&B
covers like “Valerie” and “The Closer You Are” onto his albums, and recording
and releasing a ditty called “Sharleena” more times than just about any other
song of his. The Mothers sound comfortable with this greasy, repetitive
material, and singers Ray Collins and Roy Estrada give it their all, bringing
real heart to the performances.
Cruising With Ruben
and the Jets includes five songs from Freak Out, here remade as rhythm and
blues tunes. “I’m Not Satisfied,” a burst of energetic rock on Freak Out, is
smoothed out into a 6/8 ballad with “da-da-da” backing vocals. “Any Way the
Wind Blows” is similarly slowed down and prettied up. Even “You Didn’t Try to
Call Me,” a savage parody in its original incarnation, is here transformed into
the very thing it was parodying.
Zappa’s new songs continue in the same vein. The lyrics, of
course, are darker than one would expect from ‘50s R&B – “Cheap Thrills” is
about exactly what you’d expect, its three-chord rhythm an endless bit of
juvenile giddiness. Closer “Stuff Up the Cracks” finds our lovelorn protagonist
giving up and committing suicide, turning on the car in his garage and
listening to the radio as he dies.
But others, like the silly “Jelly Roll Gum Drop,” are as
innocent as they sound. And with “Anything,” Zappa proved that he could write a
truly lovely song, without any of his signature contempt. The Mothers’
willingness to dive straight into this sound and craft this record with such
love makes Ruben and the Jets a
delightful little listen.
Too bad you can’t buy that version of the album anymore, at
least not under its original name. In 1984, Zappa decided to re-record very
‘80s-sounding bass and drums onto all but the closing track, and that’s the
only version available in stores. The disconnect between the rhythm section and
the rest of the performances here cannot be overstated – the heavily reverbed
drums and bass essentially turn this into the parody that it worked so hard not
to be. It’s disastrous.
And it’s a shame, because Zappa would never make another
record like Cruising With Ruben and the
Jets. It’s a simple, let-your-hair-down kind of record, created with
genuine affection, and celebrating an era that, despite Zappa’s commitment to complexity
and boundary-pushing, would continue to inspire him. It’s nothing essential,
and your Zappa collection would be complete without it, but taken for what it
is, Ruben and the Jets is a lot of
fun.
Rating: Skippable
Which version to buy:
Unless you track down the original vinyl, it doesn’t matter. Every CD version
of Cruising With Ruben and the Jets,
including the 2012 re-release, is the 1984 train wreck. Zappa’s alterations
ruin the entire feel of the album, and while the ‘80s version is a curiosity,
it’s not much fun to listen to. If you want to hear the original 1968 mix of
the album, you have to buy the Greasy
Love Songs Project/Object from the Zappa website.
Next week: Uncle Meat.
I completely agree. This one is, as you put it, "Skippable." I do like the songs, but the original mix is better. The Greasy Love Songs is an odd one as well that I haven't had the chance to listen to as much yet.
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