Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * * *

As the lights go down inside the Philharmonic Hall, the anticipation felt by the audience as they await the son of the legendary Frank Zappa, the just as eminent Dweezil Zappa, was akin to urged to be patient before the start of the Big Bang, everybody knew how important it was, everybody sensed it, they just couldn’t wait for it to begin.

Almost 40 years have passed since Frank Zappa and The Mothers of Invention released the seminal album Roxy and Elsewhere and as Dweezil Zappa, Ryan Brown, Kurt Morgan, Chris Norton the fantastic and highly charged and saxophone supremo Schiela Gonzales and vocalist Ben Thomas took their places, the last 40 years seemed to just fade away, to melt into the vacuum between the heady Progressive Rock/Jazz fusion period of the 1970s and the more hurried, more deceitful days in which music, theatre and the arts find themselves being marginalised by some as not conducive to preparing the U.K. to the so called challenges ahead.

Try telling that to the audience inside the Philharmonic Hall, lovers all of the Frank Zappa’s work and very enamoured and respectful to Dweezil who has re-created it, for them the chance to hear the stirring unfettered, unrestricted notes and tones that generated a type of beautiful insanity was sometimes so overwhelming that if time had allowed they would have been ordering in breakfast and urging Dweezil to go through the majority of his father’s back catalogue

The Gumbo Variations may have kicked of the evening’s two-part set but it was tracks such as the astoundingly superb Penguin in Bondage, Village of the Sun, the cheeky Cheepnis and the utterly engaging Be-Bop Tango (Of the Old Jazzman’s Church) that rivalled the start of the Universe and the Big Bang that captured the moment. This was music that was meant to be listened to, to take in and feel at one with. You didn’t have to watch Mr. Zappa perform to know just how good it was, this was a performance that played suggestively with the ears as if making passionate love to them.

The second half of the set was just as enticing; the emotional outpouring that accompanied tracks such as Watermelon in Eater Hay, the sublime feel of Muffin Man, the uplifting quirkiness of Broken Hearts Are For Assholes and the disarming unrelenting power of Teenage Prostitute all left the battle scars of musical freedom deeply imbedded on all in the building.

Much should be said of Schiela Gonzales performance on stage. Surrounded by the musical equivalent of driving male testosterone, of instruments being played as if they had a heartbeat and soul in which to nurture and care for, Schiela Gonzales matched everyone on stage in a way that would have had Frank Zappa purring like a kitten with a new ball of string to play with and Dweezil brimming with absolute pride. This phenomenal saxophonist and keyboard player struck deep into the core of all watching. A class act of the highest order and up there with the likes of the great Dick Parry and Mark Rivera.

The night and the truly magnificent performance by all on stage left the one greatest thought in the minds of those as they filed out of the auditorium, if there was any albums missing from their collection, now was the time to go and purchase them. For seminal acts, inspirational legends come round every so often but ground-breaking and true originals, they die out all too quickly and leave only either a memory or even rarer, someone with just as much conviction to thrill a crowd, Zappa plays Zappa indeed.

Ian D. Hall