Frank Zappa – Francesco Zappa

Even in a discography like Zappa's, this album is an odd one. It's very easy to ignore, overlook, dislike, misunderstand et cetera. After all, it's basically a whimsical side project or learning project (Zappa's new synclavier gets a concentrated workout here), with an astounding lack of Frank-ness about it, so to speak. There's no Zappa guitar, no Zappa vocal, no Zappa solo, no Zappa lyrics, no Zappa humour (save for the cover).

For Zappa fans specifically, and rock fans generally, there's not a lot on offer here. What you get is thirty-eight-odd minutes of digital baroque. Now, Frank Zappa isn't Wendy Carlos and Francesco Zappa isn't J.S. Bach, but as a lover of both classical and electronic music I find this album rewarding on multiple levels. Firstly, the actual work presented is engaging and enjoyable and in musical terms the rendition, if not outstanding, is interesting enough. Of course, a classical player would approach the tempi and ornamentation very differently, but that was never what we were going to get here. Baroque music is often fairly light in vibe, intended for pure audience enjoyment, and I think that comes across nicely here without reaching the almost-parodic heights of some of Tomita's synth/classical hybrids.

I've also found that I really enjoy the sweet, bubbly sonority of the synclavier on this record. It does a good job of representing that twangy, bouncy harpsichord vibe without going all-out for imitation. The voices coaxed out of the synth here include a heartwarming variety of plucks, plinks, plonks and boinks that will please any old-school tech-head, and although it's all pure, unaccompanied synth the programming and production combine to bring a surprising warmth and depth. The lack of ornamentation and variation is made up for, to my ear, by the playful way Zappa and his co-programmer David Ocker combine and double voices throughout. The voices vary enough to keep things moving, but are consonant with each other so that the end result is, in fact, rather like listening to a baroque consort in retro-robo form.

There's also the fact of what the album is: a rock star guitarist programming baroque music into a synthesizer. What's not to love? Plus its status as a single, small album in a large and well-picked-over discography. There's no outstanding track, no piece with added duration or instrumentation or significance, no obtrusive context or consequences, it's just music waiting to be enjoyed. Not that I object to grandeur or significance, per se, but I find the small scale and limited scope of this work inherently appealing and coupled with the all the other contradictions and idiosyncracies make this a true one-off.

Of course, all of my praise only applies if you like it. If your ear equates "warmth and depth" with the physicality of traditional instruments, then my appreciation of these modest sounds might seem daft. If you're very used to songs and song structures and rarely listen to other forms then the format might seem a bit crazy to you, like lots of too-short, too-similar songs (or just one long stream of notes). It's all a matter of perspective. A listener who just loves classical music might not enjoy the tech aspect, a devotee of early electronica might not enjoy the classical structure and we already commiserated with the rock fans, but oddball albums like this are always going to delight some oddball somewhere... and I'm one of them!