The Steve Reynolds Program - Blabber 'N Smoke
Ogale* Paxis!
That's what this sci-fi character, Zan-R, that hosted a show on a local UHF channel would say at the beginning of his segments. A graphic at the bottom would say "Ogale Paxis 'hello, kids'" as he said the phrase. There'd be translations like this during his oddball intros to C grade kid cartoons and shorts.
This show was on for less than a year, probably less than six months. I was obsessed trying to find out about it forever. Finally, I found out he was based in North Carolina and this show appeared only on KOKH in Oklahoma City. I was one of the lucky few to be a paxi to be said ogale to by Zan-R.
This "ish" ends on such a cranky note that you may think I'm Luke O'Neil, so for counterbalance here's a link to another newsletter's "ish" with really pretty cookbook covers. That sourdough one tickles my love offerin's.
*Don't be fooled by the link. Sonic Man said "ogon." Zan-R said, "ogale."
Song #8
Blabber 'N Smoke
by Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band
I‘m a big fan of George Pelecanos’s many crime novels set in Washington, D.C. He deftly mixes subcultures with its attendant foods, music and style, while showing the sociology of crime all during a great story. BUT, I will forever cringe at a scene in his book, King Suckerman.
Now, an author putting his own tastes or opinions into a character is forgivable. Hell, I’ve done it. It’s just that here, Pelecanos commits the Garden State/Shins sin of a character convincing someone else to like what they do. When you do that, it either feels like a commercial or wish fulfillment. And in King Suckerman set in the early 70's, a guy plays Captain Beefheart (either The Spotlight Kid or Clear Spot, it’s been a while) for his normal friend. And his normal friend digs it.
Come on! No one, but those touched by the angels of weirdness, digs Captain Beefheart on first listen. Not even Beefheart’s naked attempt at a hit (“Too Much Time”) will immediately grab someone. Yowlin’ and yelpin’ Beefheart will frustrate you, addle your senses and make you cock your head to listen in a different way to get it.
I admire Don Van Vliet and his stage persona. He committed to the music in his head, with its shifting time signatures, odd grooves and demented blues, and put it out for the world. Still, a trick I learned from my friend (who’s already appeared in the Beck issue) is, if you want to get rid of people overstaying their welcome, put on Beefheart.
“Blabber ‘N Smoke,” though. I could play it on repeat on a nasty winter day. It’s slower and sparer than most Beefheart tracks that feel like they were recorded in an amphetamine panic. Beefheart growls, “all you ever do is blabber ‘n smoke.” That accusation would shut up a drunk at a bar. The verb “blabber” feels almost a corruption of “babble” but lands harder. It really evokes a definite personality.
Then, over the slightly discordant up-and-down scale played by the bass, guitar and.xylophone (?!?), Beefheart sings “‘N all your waters turn t’ rope/It gonna hang you all/Dangle you all/Dang you all.” So whoever is blabbering and smoking is at least a small group of people, or maybe a bigger subsection of or even all of humanity.
Welp, the next lyrics give away what the Captain is on about:
“If you don’t hurry there will be no hope
Why don’t you quit actin’ like ah dope
All you ever do is blabber ‘n smoke
It don’t matter where you got your start
Which side of your head you wear your heart
Clean up the air
‘N treat the animals fair”
Damn, in the year of their lord 1972, Beeefheart yelps in frustration at people’s inactions on environmental protection. That weirdo who took refuge in a trailer in the desert already knew that there was gonna be a lot of blathering ‘n obfuscatin’ while we keep marching to the worsening of the world.
Today, as a state assesses flooding damages from a Cat 4 hurricane, we still do the same thing a half-century after Beefheart laid it out in anything-but-plain English. This I type on an energy-sucking computer connected to an energy-sucking network connected to yours. Dang us all.
Postscript
This issue’s Song I’m Mad I Forgot To Put On The List goes to "Bernie Sticky" by Ed Hall. It's not streaming so here's a live version that shows why they were my favorite live band for a while.