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"Pretty Pat"

"Pretty Pat"


[Interviewer:] Who came up with the name "Mothers of Invention"?
[FZ:] I did.
[Interviewer:] Just . . . ?
[FZ:] Well, it was sort of forced upon me because, uh, the group was originally called "The Mothers" and, uh, our original contract was with Verve Records, a subsidiary of MGM, and they refused to sign a group called "The Mothers" because they felt that the . . . that it was obscene. And so they wanted to change it to "The Mothers Auxiliary." So, out of necessity, we became "The Mothers of Invention." Is that pretty pat?
[Interviewer:] That's it.
[FZ:] That's what happened
 
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"Progress?"

"Progress?"


[?:] Donnie!
[Bunk:] Hey, put that down!
[Art:] What are you doin', man?
[Don:] SILENCE, you fools! Don't you believe in PROGRESS?
[Bunk:] Take that progress and stick it under a ROCK. He have to.
[Don:] We must overthrow the diatonic system.
([FZ:] Yes.)
[Art:] Bullshit.
[Don:] We're coming to the beginning of a NEW ERA wherein the development of the inner self will be the most important factor.
[Ian:] Donnie, your music is full of shit, and besides that it ain't disciplined.
[Don:] Listen . . .
[Bunk:] Give me four-four.
[Art:] Togetherness.
[Bunk:] Yeah.
[Ian:] Some old melodies.
[Don:] Look, playing . . .
[Art:] Put on a tie!
[Don:] Playing that kind of music and eating meat . . . will never, you'll never be able to see my aura then.
[Art:] I've seen your aura a lot, and it really stinks.
[Bunk:] You've been drinking, Don
[Ian:] I can hear your aura and it's bad, man.
[Don:] Listen, there are many strange things that science doesn't know.
[Art:] Fuck it.
[Ian:] Play any more
[Bunk:] Discipline, you need discipline.
[Don:] No . . .
[Bunk:] Four-four.
[Don:] It's got to be new, it's got to progress, it's got to evolve. THERE MUST BE GROWTH!
[Bunk:] Ah, man. My goodness . . .
[Don:] You've got to eat macrobiotic food.
([FZ:] We're doing a play.)
[Don:] And study astrology. Delve into the occult world.
[Ian:] Well you can delve all you want but we're formin' a new group . . . go, go and do you some yoga exercises.
[Don:] Look.
[Ian:] Take care of business there.
[Don:] Mark my words . . . If you continue playing this music something strange may happen.
[Bunk:] Don't threaten me . . .
([FZ:] By the end of the first show . . . )
[Don:] By the end of the first show . . . No, the second show.

[FZ:] So, at this point in the development of our plot the three talented members of the Mothers of Invention have quit the group to form their own band with a lot of discipline.
([Art:] Yeah.)
[FZ:] This is what we need, it's a nice disciplined combo!

[FZ:] And so that they would be completely packaged and fit in with the rest of the disciplined combo, the former members of the Mothers of Invention receive their initiation into the robot musical world.

[Don:] This makes me nervous I'm gonna go do some yoga.
[Ian:] Yeah, you'd better.

[FZ:] Meanwhile, Dom DeWild, under pressure, prepares to unwind with some healthy yoga exercises.

[FZ:] This is Euclid Motorhead Sherwood.

[Motorhead:] What's the matter with him?
[Ian:] He's nervous 'cause he couldn't play with our new group.
[Motorhead:] Oh, that's nice, look at all those suits.

[FZ:] Motorhead covets the uniforms of the other band. And also shows some interest in the bum of Underwood.

[Ian:] Ayyyy
[Motorhead:] Hey, ten years ago I knew a lot of guys that had suits like these. They're really nice. Hey can I play in the band and get a suit like that too?
[Ian:] No!
[Motorhead:] But I like the suits and I can play good. I can play . . . I can play anything.
[Ensemble:] BOO! BOO! BOO!

[FZ:] Motorhead is lying. He can't play good, he can't play anything. He's trying to con his way into the other band. He knows they don't want him.

[Bunk:] I heard you play before.
[Motorhead:] But I got practicing and play good.
[Ian:] No discipline.

[FZ:] He's lying. He hasn't been practicing, he doesn't do shit.

[Bunk:] Ask me you couldn't even count to four.
[Art:] Come on, beat it, man.
[Motorhead:] You can't do that to me, I'll fix you.
[Art:] Go ahead.
[Motorhead:] I'll get into your band. I'll get into your band.
[Bunk:] Okay Motorhead, just get out of the way.
[Motorhead:] You can't stop me, I'll get in there somehow.
[Ian:] Take a walk, you fruit.
[Motorhead:] There's no way you can stop me, I bet ya!

[FZ:] Motorhead explains to the members of the Robot Combo that nothing can stop him, he will join their group whether they like it or not.
 
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"Prologue"

"Prologue"



Once upon a time, musta been 'round October, few years back, in one o' dose TOP SECRET LABMO-TORIES de gubbnint keep stashed away underneath Virginia, an EVIL PRINCE, occasion'ly employed as a part-time THEATRICAL CRITICIZER set to woikin' on a plot fo de systematic GENOCIDICAL REMOVE'LANCE of all unwanted highly-rhythmic individj'lls an' sissy-boys!

De cocksucker done whiffed up a secret POTIUM . . . an' right 'long wid it, de ATROCIOUS IDEA dat what he been boilin' up down deahhhh jes' mights be de FINAL SOLUTIUM to DE WHITE MAIN'S 'BOIDENNN', ef yo' acquire my drift . . .

Well, he were sure he had a GOOD THING GOIN' . . . but, dere was always de possobility dat somethin' might fuck up, so, he planned to have a little test, jes' to check it all out befo' he dump't it in de wattuh supply.

Sho'tly denafter, wit HIGH-LEVEL GUBNINT COROBBERATIUM, he arranged to have a good-will visit to SAN QUENTIM, 'long wit some country-westin mu-zishnin's, 'n sprinkle a little bit of it on some of de boys in deahhh (since dey done used a few of 'em befo' when dey was messin' wit de ZYPH'LISS).

So, heah dey come wit de POTIUM, dump'nit all in de mash potatoes!

Den dey wen' up to de warden's office fo' some HOT TODDY, watchin' a little football while dey's waitin' to see what gone happen!

Fact o' de matter were: NOTHIN' HAPPENED, so dey went off'n dribbled it in a special shipnint of GALOOT CO-LOG-NUH dat went out 'bouts NOVEMBER!

Next thing y'know, fagnits be droppin' off like flies . . . 'long wit a large number of severely-tanned individj'lls, pre-zumnably of HAY'CHEN EXTRAKMENT!

But NOT DE BOYS IN DE REST HOME! Oh no! Mixin' de shit wit de mash potatoes done SMOOTHED IT OUT a little, so's it wouldn't KILL yo' ass, BUT, it sho' would make y'ugly! 'N ef y'was already UGLY, it'd make yo ass MEAN 'n UGLY . . . 'n ef you was already MEAN 'n UGLY, it'd turn ya into a strange, UNKNOWN KREETCHUH, never befo' seen on BROADWAY!

Thass right! It'd turn ya' into a 'MAMMY NUN'! Head like a potato . . . lips like a duck . . . big ol' hands, puffin' up! BIG ONES! Science! ME-jev'l re-LIJ-mus costumery all over yo' BODY! Yow! Oh yeah! Mmmm-hmmm!
 
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"Promiscuous"

"Promiscuous"


[Royal Oak Music Theatre, Detroit, Michigan
February 26, 1988]


Here we go!

The Surgeon General, Doctor Koop
S'posed to give you all the poop
But when he's with P.M.R.C.
The poop he's scoopin'
Amazes me

C-Span showed him, all dressed up
In his phoney Doctor God get-up
He looked in the camera and fixed his specs
'N gave a fascinating lecture
'Bout anal sex
ANAL SEX
ANAL SEX
ANAL SEX
ANAL SEX

He says it is not good for us
We just can't be promiscuous
He's just a doctor - he should know
It's the work of the Devil, so
Girls, don't blow!
DON'T BLOW
DON'T BLOW

Don't blow Jimmy, don't blow Bobby
Get yourself another hobby
(If Jesus practiced medicine
I'm sure he'd do it
Just like him)

Is Doctor Koop a man to trust?
It seems at least that Reagan must
(And Ron's a trusting sort of guy -
He trusts Ed Meese
I wonder why?)
I WONDER WHY
WONDER WHY

The A.M.A. has just got caught
For doin' stuff they shouldn't ought
All they do is lie and lie
Where's Doctor Koop?
He's standin' by

Surgeon General? What's the deal?
Is your epidemic real?
Are we leaving something out?
Something we can't talk about?
A little green monkey over there
Kills a million people?
That's not fair!
Did it really go that way?
Did you ask the C.I.A.?
Would they take you serious,
Or have THEY been
Promiscuous
Have THEY been Promiscuous
Have THEY been Promiscuous
Have THEY been Promiscuous
 
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"Punky's Whips"

"Punky's Whips"


[includes a quote from Isn't It Romantic? (Rodgers/Hart)]

[Don Pardo:] In today's rapidly changing world, musical groups appear almost every day with some new promotional device . . . Some of these devices have been known to leave irreparable scars on the minds of foolish young consumers . . . One such case is seated before you . . . live on stage . . . yes, Terry Bozzio . . .
[Terry:] That's meeee!
[Don Pardo:] That cute little drummer . . . Terry recently felt in love with a publicity photo of a boy named Punky Meadows, lead guitar player from a group called ANGEL . . . In the photo, Punky was seen with a beautiful shiny hairdo in a semi-profile which emphasized the pootched out succulence of his insolent pouting rictus . . .
[Terry:] Ooh, Punky . . .
[Don Pardo:] The sight of which drove the helpless drummer mad with desire!

I can't stand the way he pouts
('Cause he might not be pouting for me!)
Hah! Pouting for you?
Hah! Punky Meadows? Pouting for you?
His hair's so shiny and it's done real nice
(Til I squirm with ecstasy!)

Punky, Punky, give me your lips
To die on . . . Oh, Punky, isn't it romantic?

Punky, Punky, give me your lips
To die on . . . I promise not to come in your mouth
Punky, Punky, your album's the shits
It's all wrong . . . but listen, this is no laughing matter

I ain't really queer
But if he ever got near
Steven Tyler would PAY to see!
Pay to see

Punky's whips, Punky's whips
His hair's so shiny, I love his hips
I love his teeth, 'n his gums 'n such . . . PUNKY
(What's up, baby?)
You're an ANGEL . . .
(Oh, you know that's the kind of stuff that I like to hear)
You're too much

He's been havin' a rash
(No shit)
That keeps the girls away
Skin doom
(Skin doom!)
Is what the doctors say

I wonder if Punky is rehearsin' today
I'll just go over, 'n hear him play
His hair is so pretty . . . I'd like to bite his neck
I've heard a rumor he's more fluid than Jeff Beck
(Dig this . . . )
I AIN'T QUEER
I AIN'T GAY
(He's a little fond of chiffon in a wrist array-ee-ay-ee-ay)
A wrist array-he-hey
(That's all it is)

Punky's lips, Punky's lips
Oh, I love his hair, eatin' dunk-y chips
Yes, I love his blink and his blank-blank-blank
Why, maybe he'd like to yank my crank?
YANK IT PUNKY! YANK IT FASTER!
YANK IT HARDER! YANK IT ALL NITE LONG!
COME ON PUNKY! GET FUNKY!

I AIN'T QUEER
(NO NO NO NO)
I AIN'T GAY
(NO NO NO NO)
(He's a little fond of chiffon in a wrist array-he-he-he-hey)
A wrist array-hey
(One more time for the world!)
And then he said:
I AIN'T QUEER
I AIN'T GAY
(He's a little fond of chiffon in a wrist array-ay-hay)

I-I
Lord, I-I'm fo-fo-o-o-nd
Of chiffo-on
In a wrist array-ee-ay-hey
I said
I-I-I-I-I-I-I
I'm a little fo-o-nd
Of chiffo-on
In a wrist array-hey-ay-ay-hey

[FZ:] Thank you . . . Our birthday boy, Terry Bozzio, sad but true . . . Just a minute . . .
 
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"Pygmy Twylyte"

"Pygmy Twylyte"


Green hocker croakin'
In the Pygmy Twylyte

Crankin' an' a-coke'n
In the Winchell's do-nut Midnite

Out of his deep on a 'fore day run
Hurtin' for sleep in the Quaalude Moonlight

Green hocker in a Greyhound locker
Smokin' in the Pygmy Twylyte

Joined the bus on the 33rd seat
By the doo-doo room with the reek replete

Crystal eye, crystal eye
Got a crystal kidney & he's fraid to die
In the Pygmy Twylyte
Downer midnite
Pygmy Twylyte
Downer midnite
Pygmy Twylyte
Downer midnite
Pygmy Twylyte
Downer midnite
 
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"Redneck Eats"

"Redneck Eats"


[JCB:] Hey, who are these dudes? Are you a boy, or a girl?

HA HA HA HA . . . HA HA

[JCB:] What the fuck was that? I wonder if that son of a bitch can play something I might even like!

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA Ha

[JCB:] Hey twerp, play me something I can enjoy!
 
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"Religious Superstition"

"Religious Superstition"


[Motorhead:] He's in the wrong piano
[Louis:] No, you're in the wrong piano
[Roy:] No . . .
[Motorhead:] This is a Steinway
[Louis:] You are!
[Roy:] It's not a Baldwin . . .
[Motorhead:] Yeah
[Roy:] It's not even a Wurlitzer
[FZ:] Saliva can only take so much
 
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"Return Of The Son Of Shut Up 'N Play Yer Guitar"

"Return Of The Son Of Shut Up 'N Play Yer Guitar"


[includes part of the leather conversation]

[O'Hearn:] Heh heh heh heh heh. . . I was there last night . . .
 
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"Rhymin' Man"

"Rhymin' Man"


[includes quotes from The Twilight Zone Theme (Constant), Marche Funebre (Chopin), Mission: Impossible (Schifrin), The Untouchables (Riddle), Mississippi Mud (Cavanaugh/Barris), Happy Days Are Here Again (Yellen/Ager), Entry Of The Gladiators (Fucik), Havah Nagilah (trad.), Hail To The Chief (Sanderson/Scott), La Cucaracha (trad.), Frere Jacques (trad.), My Sharona (Fieger/Averre) and Hallelujah I'm A Bum (McClintock)]

Rhymin' Man,
Tall and tan,
Rhyme or reason,
Play your hand -
Rhyme on this - rhyme on that
Oh, you naughty Democrat!

They say when Doctor King got shot,
Jesse hatched an awful plot,
Dipped his hands in the Doctor's blood,
'N rubbed his shirt like playin' with mud
Looked around for all the press,
Said: "Check me out, my name is Jess!
I'll be known from towns 'n farms -
Doctor King died in my arms!"

Rhymin' Man,
Tall and tan,
Rhyme or reason,
Play your hand -
Rhyme on this - rhyme on that
Oh, you naughty Democrat!

A few years later, legend says,
Rhymin' man made a run for Prez
Farrakhan made him a clown,
Over there near Hymie-Town
Said he was a diplomat -
Hobbin' an-a-knobbin' with Arafat
Castro was simpatico,
Though the U.S. voters, they said: "No!"

Rhymin' Man,
Tall and tan,
Rhyme or reason,
Play your hand -
Rhyme on this - rhyme on that
Oh, you naughty Democrat!

Okay, here we go again!
Rhymin' Man says he's your friend
Any fool can make a rhyme -
Cowboys do it all the time
(We could do, they sure do)
People say: "Now he's mature!"
Cowboys rhyme that with horse manure

Horse manure!
(Horse manure)
That's for sure!
You been cheatin' -
We kept score!
Are you "this"?
Or are you "that"?
Oh, you naughty
Demo . . . (crat!)
Democrat!
 
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