FWAK!
A chance meeting with Stacy Thunes before Zappa played
Zappa at
IB: Do you have fond memories of Zappa’s Universe?
ST: Wow. That’s interesting. I’ve never been asked that before. Um, yes, and of course, no. The ‘yes’ is big. Orchestra. Real musicians. Late-night partying with Virgil Blackwell that sticks with me to
this very day. Being treated like a valued resource by people with far
more talent than I will ever have. Have I sucked up enough to orchestral
musicians yet? No? Well, I haven’t gotten started yet. That
girl with the backless suit. The ‘no’ is pretty big, too. I had recently
written my only composition, a Duo For Violin And Cello that pretty much rocked. I’d
brought copies of it for possible classical-musician-performance and I was
quite excited. There was a cute blond violinist who was excited to look at
it/perform it, as she’d just started a duo and needed material. I gave her the
score. Later that night, the actual first violinist (a distinguished
African-American gentleman who I regret to not remember the name of) asked me
if I’d let him have a copy of the score as well and I demurred, saying that I
was giving ‘first performance’ rights to the person who’d asked first. Fucking
bitch never got back in touch with me and therefore I dropped the chance to
have at least one more person look at my music before I lost part of the
original score and can’t recreate it because it was in an ancient Macintosh
program format and nobody uses it anymore and I can’t make more copies and that
piece is lost to history because of my short-sightedness. So, that’s bad. Also,
I lost the keys to the apartment of the really nice lady who was allowing us to
stay at her place. Also, I had a crush on the daughter of the conductor and she was really nice and she blew me off. Also, and this
should sit higher on the list, but it’s been dealt with already (during my
first years on the Internet, I had a nice back-and-forth with the subject of
this story), but one of my favourite moments in rock and a showpiece for me at
the concert was ruined by the keyboard player who forgot to switch the sound on
the MiniMoog synthesizer (that I used for the bass part on Sofa #1) from the lead sound he was using on the previous song back
to a useful bass tone. I stood there like a chump on the floor riser in front
of hundreds of paying customers for thirty seconds or so twiddling knobs like
an amateur as I realized in horror that I was not going to be able to play the
MiniMoog as I’d done on every single performance of that song since I’d been
playing with Frank (not that I’d ever played it before working with him) and I
was going to have to jump back on the stage and grab my bass guitar and play it
on that, learning the fingerings on the fly and attempting to grab the correct
attitude out of the ether while alternately squinting my eyes in furious fuming
and glaring at the offending keyboardist who was watching aloft from the wings.
I ruined his evening by giving him a load of shit in front of his parents after
the concert (I apologize!). Other than that: bonus!
IB: You
describe yourself as an ex-musician: when was your last gig?
ST: I played
several casual gigs this year: last week, I played a wedding with a guitarist
friend of mine. We drove about a hundred miles to play a gig overlooking 4,000
acres of
IB: Think
you’ll ever play professionally again – what would it take to get you out of
your self-imposed exile?
ST: Since
we’ve recently experienced my wife getting a raise and our car payments ending,
we’ve been doing pretty well. I don’t think there’d be anything that could get
me to leave my family for several months at a time. I mean, really: How the
fuck is a family supposed to function without one of the members of the Parent
Class MIA for long periods of time? I love her too much to leave her or my
children for more than a couple of days anyway. She’s always asking me if I
need a rest, would I like to go have a beer with the boys, get out of the house
for a bit, and I always say no. Well, most of the time. Alternately, the
question is kinda loaded. I was never exiled, self-imposed or not. The only
reason I was in music is the same reason most musicians are in music: I needed
money and I could make some plying my trade, or whoring myself out, whichever
you prefer (for those musicians of the world that ‘need’ to make music, please
disregard the previous sentence and remain ‘needy’; us listeners thank you).
Once I was unable to make money – for whatever reason – I quit trying to make
more money at it.
IB: Are you
still composing?
ST: Nope. I
haven’t really touched pen to paper since the debacle with the Duo For Violin And
Cello. My musical self-directed adventures are limited to a project I’m
thinking of where I’ll post songs to one of my web pages that have a limitation
of one hour spent on Garageband. That is to say, I’ll spend an hour on
Garageband and whatever I end up with, I’ll post. An entire album of simple
things that just pop out of my fingers and head is I think a worthy exercise.
Other than that, I’m hoping to put something together with my family. My son
plays drums (he’s almost five) and my daughter sings something scary good. I
still have plans to teach my wife the bass (it doesn’t take much to be a bass
player in a rock band, that we all know) and I’ll play
guitar or keys or accordion. But the most important thing is,
I’ll finally be in a band with some friends instead of an orchestral hired-hand
like every other band I’ve ever been in, professionally-speaking.
IB: When I
spoke with Ed Mann, he said he finally was able to appreciate your “unique
sense of humour”….and “would welcome the opportunity to play with [him]
anytime.” What are the chances?
ST: Well,
pretty damn high, considering. I mean, playing with Ed wouldn’t even remotely
‘bring up’ any bad feelings from him specifically, if that’s what you mean. Ed
and I are thoroughly reconciled.
IB: If
someone has a huge talent, do you think it’s kind of a waste not exploiting it
to its full potential, or is it just a sad fact of life that unless someone
else spots it and thinks they can make some money from it, it will remain
hidden away – therefore being happy and contented is really far more important?
ST: It’s a
waste, sure, but name me one thing about this life
that isn’t tainted with some kind of delightful horribleness. The fact that an artist, or a creative person in any way can be thwarted and
have their talents either disregarded or ruined by the System of the World is
small potatoes compared to the pressing problems that face Humanity. Namely,
the Boy Band Factory and the company that produces those plastic six-pack
holders (hi, uncle Bob!).
IB: Was it
your idea to bung a bit of Bartok into Packard
Goose on the 88 tour?
ST: Nope. Frank’s. He asked me to orchestrate it, and the Stravinsky,
for the band. He tweezed it a bit, so it’s not ‘reeeely’ all mine, but I take
credit for it because he stole credit for the music for Promiscuous, as bad as it is.
IB:
Comparing the two versions of The
Deathless Horsie on SUNPYG and YCDTOSA Vol 1, did you have an influence
on the variations apparent in the latter over the original more laid back
recording?
ST: I have
no idea what you’re talking about. Seriously. I have
never heard those two versions back-to-back nor have I ever compared any two
performances of mine from live tapes or records or what-have-you. Any influence
I may have imparted to that type of improvised music of Frank’s was purely
coincidental and no meaning should be impugned.
IB: Your
audition piece for Frank was Mo N Herb’s
Vacation – did you ever record that (or Mo’s
Vacation) for him?
ST: Nope. We
were going to do a rock-band/orchestral concert in
IB: What do
you know about the song Solitude that
Frank wrote for Gail?
ST: I’m
sorry you brought that up. Sadness. I recorded many,
many tapes during the rehearsal phase of 1981. Most of these are lost from
lendings or movings. The tape that contained the sole performance of that song
was given to Steve Vai as a Zappa-Band-Member to Zappa-Band-Member Temporary
InterLibrary Loan. Fucker lost it. I would appreciate it if he’d send that baby
home to me. Other than that, it was an incredible song and I was looking mighty
forward to performing it for the rest of my time with Frank. ‘Twas
not to be. DAMN.
IB: Arthur
Barrow was still Clonemeister after you joined Frank. Did he give you any
particular advice that stuck with you as regards playing bass for Frank?
ST: Nope. In
one ear and out the other was all the information I received from old Arty. He
wasn’t very one-to-one, if that’s what you mean. He was nice enough during the
initial putting-together-of-the-band and all, but he and I are not what you’d
call compatible. I do recall one item though. We were a Nike Endorsement Band
for the Eighties and we’d have to go to
IB: What can
you tell me about the session with Lisa Popeil?
ST: You mean
the original meeting? Or the week she was a full-fledged member of the ensemble
before Frank had to fire her because it was painfully obvious that she was
unable to deal with the real-music elements (ie. non-classical) of a
rock-band’s particulars? Or the time we were in the bathroom together, making
out? I don’t recall much about that particular time, so I was glad she
mentioned it in song. I fondly recall her soft smooth skin, and her bounteous
breasts and her obvious sexual passion, but I’m a gentleman and she’s a lady
and we don’t talk about such things. Also, I can’t mention what Frank told me
about her without her permission, so that will probably stay hidden until her
after her death. I love her. She’s a sweetie.
IB: Do you
think you’ve mellowed to the point where you wouldn’t now put on headphones and
do a crossword puzzle on stage during a drum/guitar duet?
ST: I deny
categorically your definition. It was stage-craft, improvised around the idea
of a non-rock situation where all elements of stage-craft are considered equal.
It wasn’t until after the tour ended that I ever heard anything at all about
that particular element of the ‘show’. My understanding of our situation was
that rock posturing is stupid and bands that participate in such behaviour are
pathetically under-brained and deserve ridicule. You’re talking about the
European Dweezil tour of 93 where I was already quite bent out of shape for
having to deal with the idiocy of one of my band members on a daily basis and
was in no mood to be told what to do, what to think, or anything at all other
than “You’re great. I like what you do with my songs and have for almost eight
years, and I won’t let the simple complication of not having had the good
fortune to tour with our first choice for that position (due to medical
issues), so if there’s any bad blood about this, I’ll just jettison the
offending party.” Instead, I was ejected (thank you, Lord!) rather than the
truly ‘difficult’ member (the person who was new, who was not part of the
‘original crew’, who was not of a sufficiently intelligent nature and therefore
didn’t ‘fit in’ as I saw it), and I found that our original conception of the
band – that we were the ‘Anti-Rock’ band and our job was to show up rock stage
conventions (rock ‘face’, stances, attitudes and positions, grimaces,
head-banging, hair-throwing) for the farce that they were – changed during our
time on the road and so my previously non-offensive, part-of-the-proceedings “schtick” stuck out like a
sore thumb due to a conflict with Dweezil’s apparent search for ‘seriousness’.
Never in a million years could I have imagined that he would have switched over
to a place in his mind where what we had all previously imagined and
unwritteningly decided was thrown away to make way for his ‘music’, and that
the proper stance for listening was pure concentration. I did what I did
because I thought it was funny, not because I thought it would hurt him. Story of my life, apparently.
IB: The story about sticking you cock in Bruce Fowler’s face to shut
him up – true or false?
ST:
Super-duper true. Double true, dat.
IB: On a scale
of one to 26, just how scary do you think you are?
ST: One.
IB: Did your
brother Derek ever try again to get into Frank’s band after you’d joined?
ST: Nope. He
concentrated on parking cars (like I had) and composition (like I wished I had)
and then he got in a very bad motorcycle accident that eventually killed him
(complications from AIDS).
IB: You said
the Vai tour was “hellish” – what was so bad about it?
ST: Pass. I am keeping these things to myself.
He’s a nice guy, I’ve heard. And I have no urge to dispel that myth.
IB: Is Tommy
Mars really an alien?
ST: Huh?
He’s a nice guy. I love him. Wished things went better between us, but
personalities are what they are. Musically, he’s the most advanced individual
I’ve ever had the pleasure of playing with. I wish him double-happiness for the
rest of his life.
IB: What
memories do you have of Napoleon Murphy Brock on the 84 tour?
ST: He was
great. I loved the way he stayed in bed ‘til it was time to leave for our first
gig (
IB: Do you
think Frank put out too much stuff from the 84 tour (eg. on the YCDTOSA series) simply because it was
well recorded?
ST: Frank
liked clean sounds, tight bands, and no mistakes. I don’t really care for that
stuff all that much so I am not really able to gauge his recordings using those
criteria. I liked the dangerous elements of the 88 tour, where one didn’t know
if one was going to hear a gigantic fucking-up right after a righteous
exaltedness or what.
IB: Think
ST: Sorry. Don’t
follow sports of any kind. But horses are horribly mistreated in that
particular situation and should be left to roam the high chaparral in peace
along with the Aardwolf, the Black-tailed Jackrabbit, the Cactus Wren, the Golden Jackal,
the Grey Fox, the Puma, the San Joachin
Kit Fox, the Spotted Skunk,
and the Wild Goat.
IB: You’re
featured playing with Terry Bozzio on Rhythmatist
on Dweezil’s new album – I assume that is an old Z outtake?
ST: Yep. I
had to look it up on the Dweezil website to find explanations of what they
were. Actually, they’re not ‘outtakes’ as much as ‘end of tape’ takes. We
always filled out the last couple of minutes of tape with random ‘grooves’ or
‘jams’ or ‘hate filled diatribes’. Since I got paid $300/week, I never knew
what was going to end up on an album unless I had to do overdubs (because we’d
sometimes record up to 20 songs a day, my memory of any particular surrounding
recordings with the Dweez are utterly devoid of content). I didn’t even
remember doing ‘end of tape’ takes with Terry. Cool! I think we sound like Red-era King Crimson.
IB: When I
interviewed Joe Travers about your departure from Z, he said you had problems
with him. “He has problems with a lot of people. He had been working with
Dweezil for a long time. It just ran its course pretty much. You should ask
Scott.” So?
ST: Sounds
pretty damn good to me. Good on ya, mate! OK, whatever. I offered to perform
fisticuffs upon Joe’s person for throwing drum sticks into the audience after
telling him repeatedly that this was NOT A GOOD THING as people have a
propensity to throw things back. Sure, a Joe Travers Drum Stick is something
that most people would fetish like a…well, a fetish. But, like they say in Men In Black
(the movie): “A person is smart, but people are dumb.” Throw something broken
with splinters sticking out of it into a post-rock concert crowd and you’ll
watch me cower in abject fear. Joe not only couldn’t ‘get’ it, but argued with
me all the way down the stairs into the backstage area. Mike K was with me so
he’ll corroborate. I kept on Joe until I was nearly apoplectic. He never backed
down, bless his pointed little heart, but it just inflamed me all the more. I
apologized, but I got no joy back. He said: I accept your apology, but I’ll
never forgive you. Whoa. Cut off, dood. When I got home from auditioning with
the Waterboys in NY after the tour was over, I got a call from Dweezil, firing
me. He said he needed ‘nice’ people in his band because he couldn’t afford to
have separate rooms for each of his band members (even though he flew First
Class all the time and stayed in Four Star hotels wherever we went). You see,
we alternated sharing rooms and, after the argument with Joe, we got to stay by
ourselves (something band-leaders should take into account when booking tours).
Sure, most bands use a single van as their hotel, but how many Zappa-quality
musicians would do a van tour of the
IB: How
would you rate Dweezil as a musician/composer? Were song ideas with Z greatly
influenced by you and/or Keneally?
ST: I absolutely
loved playing with Dweezil specifically because of his thoroughly fecund
musical imagination. For a year and a half, Josh Freese and I (hi, Josh - how’s
the Eternal Tour going?) would rehearse the shit out of Dweezil’s bedroom
noodlings and turn them into nuggets of pure golden ambrosia. Those few months
really were part of the reason I remained mostly unfazed by my lack of
financial success and Other-Than-Zappa musical possibilities, keeping me
happily sucking at the teat (or, more to the point, shooting up the China
White) of the Zappa Family instead of getting off my ass and GETTING A JOB, as
they say. I really shoulda, coulda been a contender if it weren’t for them Damn
Zappas and their Damn Music (this is a joke).
IB: Ahmet
seems very unlike Dweezil; extroverted and extremely funny. I imagine you two
got on like a house on fire? Miss him?
ST: Love
Ahmet to death. He was very much a Zappa the entire time I knew him, so he was
funny yet distant. He wanted nothing more than to have fun and laugh with his
older brother, but other humans amused him at times. He and I shared hardly
anything in common but we respected each other. The one time I tried to turn
him on to some art was going up to his bedroom and trying to play him Plan Nine From
Outer Space. He got bored rather quickly. But he was in his early teens so
I couldn't have expected TOO much...he was addicted to comics
right then.
IB: Do you
have any contact with the Zappas these days?
ST: Not
really. A couple of years back, I got a phone call from Gail (my phone number
hasn’t changed since I moved up from LA eleven years ago) asking me if I’d like
to be involved in Zappaween. I said
yes, and got a phone call directly from the biggest music promoter in
IB: Did you
enjoy the show?
ST: I DID!
They (the musicians on hire) comported themselves admirably. Had
to take a couple of pee breaks so I unfortunately missed the drum solo section
and one other part that I can’t remember. Other than that, they rocked
the world.
IB: Do you
still have any contact with Mike Keneally or Ike Willis?
ST:
Strangely enough, Mike never calls when he comes up to
IB: How did
the invitation to play at Zappanale #13
come about?
ST: My
sister Stacy met the guy who puts it on. He asked her what I was doing and she
had a brainstorm that we should perform live on stage for the very first time
in our 40s after never having any previous artistic combinatorality. I jumped
at the chance. Of course, free airfare, a week in
IB: Do you
still rate Green Day?
ST:
Strangely enough, more than ever. During that interview where I mentioned them,
I had really only heard the Longview
CD single which contained two live cuts along with the main song, so I had no
idea of their catalogue. Subsequent to that time, I’ve seen them live (nice
show at the Bill Graham Auditorium in SF almost seven years ago) and turned my
children on to them by accident. I got International
Supervideos for my wife as a joke last year for Christmas, but to this day
she’s never seen it (she’s got the hots for Billie Joe, as do we all). My
children, on the other hand, demand to see it every Movie Day (we only watch
movies one day a week and have no cable) along with their Chosen Film, and
they’ve managed to turn me into a fan all over again. Waiting and Warning are
two of my current favourite songs. My wife was listening to American Idiot a lot last year and I
became enamoured of the Jesus of Suburbia
Suite, even though the title leaves much to be desired. On another note, my
children’s actions have this to say about them: Virgil, my Drumming Son (who is
five in a month) sings Green Day songs (along with Weezer songs) CONSTANTLY,
and can be found improvising lyrics to their melodies whilst pooping (right
before the Eternal Refrain: “Mom/Dad…Will You Wipe My Bottom”) and playing with
his robots. He’s learned the basic riff of Smoke
On The Water and the counter-melody and ending
riff to Boulevard Of Broken Dreams.
Hazle, my Dancing Daughter, is more of a conceptualist and thinks that the
videos are superb.
IB: When did
you last cry, and why?
ST: My wife
and I cry at store openings. Probably some ad in a magazine or commercial that
I thought was done with such genius and attention to human needs for art and
loving communication (while not insulting the audience’s intelligence) that causes
me a deep emotional reaction. We do that CONSTANTLY. I’ll find something, or
she’ll find something, and we’ll show it to each other, and as one or the other
looks up at the other, we’ll have this look on our faces, like: “AWWWWW”…but
with a “isn’t that sweet but totally correct and intelligent and not at all
tasteless or base or bathetic or twee” type of attention to basic humanity.
Other than that, I think it was a recent communication from a friend who was
very eloquent about a difficult situation.
IB: How does
your wife put up with you?
ST: I’m
going to take the high road here and assume you mean What Does My Wife Think Of Me In General, because there’s nothing even remotely
special about how difficult I am to live with. I don’t gamble, I don’t steal
her money, I don’t carouse around with other women (although the thought has
crossed my mind), and I don’t drink to excess (in fact, I quit drinking my
beloved beer at the start of the Summer because of my encroaching belly). I am
lazy and distracted and can’t complete projects and I’m not a house cleaner and
the basement and the backyard are conceptually messy but no more so than most.
I love my wife to distraction and find her funny, sexy, beautiful and adorable.
I make love to her as much as I possibly can (which isn’t nearly enough, thanks
to schedules and tiredness and advanced age and rambunctious children and the
damn phone and her brother downstairs always listening in with his high-tech
spy equipment and his periscope) and make sure she gets an orgasm every time we
do it but I’m not mechanical about it nor do I get angry when I can’t…well, YOU
KNOW (when it’s more Claes Oldenburg’s Soft Drum Set than Eiffel Tower, if you
get my meaning). I’m a sporadic cook and only know three things to do but when
I do them, they’re very edible and I get high marks from the family (along with
cleaned dishes). I have a quick temper and I hate people in general. I’ve
scared my wife with my outbursts at people on the street while driving (I think
it’s comedy and I’m only pretending to be mad at them, it being a parody of
people who yell at people in cars, but she doesn’t get it) and constantly make
jokes that go awry. I lose friends more than I make them from my snappy
rejoinders and what I think is funny gives most people I know the Howling
Fantods, but I’m always up for a barbeque at my house and we have regular
outings with friends so there’s always somebody with us who loves the Family.
I’m a great host, always making sure people are well supplied with libations or
what-have-you, but when they leave, I heave a sigh of relief. I am always
hugging or kissing my wife, and I tell her I love her at least twenty thousand
times a day, which isn’t nearly enough for her, which rocks. We communicate
about our day and about our thoughts concerning the World, but our innermost
thoughts are rather guarded, being too dangerous to let loose regularly. Our
subsequent conversations about the dangerous stuff are gentle and informative
and we always leave them satisfied. We’ve never been mad at one another for
more than a few hours and when my wife WAS disappointed at me for a long-term
disaster I purveyed unto her she was extremely understanding (finally) of my
lacks instead of pointedly making me out to be a ‘bad person’ or what-have-you.
I’m working on losing weight and have dropped 15lbs. in the past three months.
I keep to one or two espresso drinks a day and since we got an espresso machine
I save my wife billions of dollars by not going to the Coffee Shop in San
Anselmo EVERY SINGLE DAY. I don’t ask for high-end computer or musical
equipment (although I’d really like a dedicated room for my recording junk that
I can actually use [thank you, David!] and enough electrical outlets to run
them) all that much, but she’s just gotten me a used piano (and a brand new
acoustic guitar!), so she’s obviously aware of my leanings, but she never gives
me grief for my time spent with music (probably because it’s so sporadic and
seldom) as another woman might (and they have, let me tell you, they have in
the past) and I’ve made her cry with my talents in this area so I’ve still ‘got
it.’ I don’t like to repeat myself, I don’t like to tell my children to do
something more than fifty times so I get cranky when I do, and I hate it when
people give me ‘the cheek’ instead of the lips for me to kiss. Especially if I’ve known them for years. I know people who
DON’T give me the cheek and they’re hotter Betties than the Cheek-Givers, so
what’s the deal? Idiots. I get cranky when people are
mean to my wife, or when other children don’t give my children the social
respect they’ve earned and deserve, so I’ve been known to overstep my
boundaries and give younger people grief when they are obviously incapable of
handling my vitriol, but I always apologize afterwards. I’m an excellent
apologist and am extremely well-practiced at it. I am hyper-aware of my
failings so I’m always ready to hear criticism, but since most people are
incapable of seeing the correct end of a diatribe (this is sometimes evidenced
by unmeasured responses to perceived injustices; this happens to me a lot
because of my past; they just can’t seem to get over it), they think I’m
getting mad at the criticism instead of the manner in which it’s being
conveyed. In other words, I’m exactly like other men, except better, so she
knows she’s got a good thing.
IB: You seem
a very happy and contented family guy. Do you ever worry about the time when
your kids are less dependant on you?
ST:
Absolutely. I know it’s kinda creepy – hopefully she’ll remember this in her
future, with fondness – but I tell my daughter to never leave me and to not
grow up and all that jazz. They are seriously the most adorable things on
Planet Earth, and I’ll miss them horribly when they go (even though I’m sure
I’ll be as ready to see them ejected from the pod as they’ll be to be ejected)
but when you think about it, my daughter at age six is ONE THIRD of the way to
college. One third!!! It’s disgusting to contemplate so I reject the notion
that they’ll leave me.
IB: Ever dream
about spoons?
ST: Not
recently. But I do dream about Frank, and that’s far more disturbing. I dream
about being on tour with him, and it’s always great. I’m always excited to be
about to play, and it’s mostly backstage stuff at outdoor concerts, as that was
my favourite place to be while on tour. Grass, tents,
amphitheatres, all the people, the girls, the beer, and sky and the sound of
PAs pumping out pre-concert music or the music of others. These are what
make up the majority of my pleasant memories of touring so they find themselves
inside my dreams of Frank.
IB: What do
you miss most about him?
ST: His
voice. Talking to him. Listening to him pontificate
about every little thing on the planet that not only was interesting to him but
to whoever asked him a question. He was the most generous genius I’d ever met,
who’d give any moron the time of day and would explain in gracious languor and
excruciating detail elements of an idea, thought, situation or position to
anybody who asked. (If he had the time. On tour
busses, he had time.)
IB: How
would you like to be remembered?
ST: As a
good father, a good husband, and a good bass player. My sense
of humour, my giant wangus, and my attention to the clitoris. For my
bottomless ability to drink beer without becoming an asshole, my fantastic
driving skills, and my Duo For Violin And Cello. For my children who shall go on to
amazing things and have my name associated with them in its correct role as
footnote to their Greatness (as Beethoven’s and Mozart’s fathers were footnotes
to theirs). For being Frank’s longest-concurrently-tenured
musician. For having that fist fight in Wales during the Vai tour with
that guy who crashed the backstage area drunk and waved that chicken wing at
this cute vegetarian girl who I was NOT hitting on but I felt protective of. For the Young Republicans. For my string bass part on the
Waterboy’s Love And
Death. For having played string bass in a staged performance of
Stravinsky’s L’Histoire Du Soldat in
San Anselmo – my crush, Sarah Fairchild, in attendance. For being even remotely
associated with Derek Thunes’s music by conducting the only performance of his Fantasy For Electric
Violin And Jazz Band at the age of 17. For NOT being the reason many
people were unable to attend any concerts by the 1988 Frank Zappa band. Wasn’t
my fault, people! Impetus or no!
***
It would
be really nice if this interview did appear in a future edition of T’Mershi Duween but it seems
unlikely. You never know. Anywho, the photo of Scott was taken by this Idiot at
Zappanale #13 in July 2002.