Modifying The Dog: Frank Zappa’s ‘One Size Fits All’ At 50

Conceptual continuity comes to Tracking Angle: Zappaverse traveler Abigail Devoe unpacks Chris Bellman’s 50th anniversary remaster of ‘One Size Fits All.’

1975 was a weird year for pop music. The Captain and Tennille had the best-selling single of the year with “Love Will Keep Us Together.” Meanwhile, Neil Young was parked in the ditch, wasted at the wake on Tonight’s The Night. Just over the guardrail, Bob Dylan returned from his own surreal excursions. Queen released the biggest song of their career. While the Carpenters were snuggled up in their parent-pleasing inoffensive confections, Led Zeppelin dealt blockbuster Physical Graffiti. Buckingham-Nicks Fleetwood Mac began their year-long slow burn. Talking Heads played their first gig at CBGB’s.

The mid-1970s brought one of the creative peaks of Frank Zappa’s career. Over-Nite Sensation, Apostrophe, and Roxy & Elsewhere were just what made it out of the vault! Two TV special tapings, and material for Bongo Fury, Studio Tan, and Sleep Dirt were also born from this period, as was One Size Fits All.

Hot Dog Squishy

It’s ironic that One Size Fits All celebrates its (belated) 50th anniversary as my part of the country is choked out by summer wildfire smoke. To record the album, Frank hauled the operation 8,500 feet up in the Rockies in the dead of winter. How this excursion was okayed for a bunch of flatlanders, I’ll never understand!

Bass player Tom Fowler was out of commission by way of touch football injury. He plays bass (when left hand is not broken.) Ruth Underwood retired from touring after production was complete. Rocky Mountain cold cryo-froze the Mothers – One Size is the last Zappa studio album credited to the group.

“Can’t afford no shoes?” Too bad! The One Size anniversary edition costs $55 after shipping. As I completed the online checkout on my phone at an hour of the morning I’d rather not repeat, I got the pop-up below:

“Would you like to add Hot Dog Frank Squishy to your cart? $15.00

---

SORRY SOLD OUT”

Frank wiggles his brow through the ether.

A few orange-skied days later, the 50th anniversary remaster of One Size arrived, on 180-gram translucent vinyl, flecked with silver glitter. I prefer my vinyl made of vinyl and glitter on my shoes, thank you. As of now, the 50th anniversary remaster plus bonus tracks is not available on sparkle-free wax. This was how I was getting the “75% unreleased material.”

A main draw of this One Size release was its liner notes. Vaultmeister supreme Joe Travers, vibraphone high priestess Ruth Underwood, and David Fricke provide essays. Fricke's words are the typical pleasure to read. (Calling my own bias here: David’s Rolling Stone piece for the 50th anniversary of Trout Mask Replica was key to my Zappaverse entry. Kind of a hero as far as writing about music goes.) It's funny to read Frank repeat things across different interviews. Even o mighty Zappa fell into the interview rhythm!

As I tucked in to the full-sized booklet, I thought, “Finally, I’m reviewing an album for this site with truly great packaging.” The booklet pages are glossy and illuminated with faux constellations. Air-ies, Cancer, Libra...huh. Guess I’m a Silverfish rising now. The booklet is interspersed with portrait photography of Frank and the Mothers by Sam Emerson.

I changed into my own po-jamas, awkwardly stepped around the green Arne Jacobsen lookalike I seriously underestimated the size of, and settled in to see how this remaster measures up to the original One Size.

Before Further Modifications

The disc itself of my original copy is much thinner than I’m used to – it almost felt like Dynaflex in my hands. But hey, it’s been played maybe twice in its five-decade life. I’ll accept it as my control group! In his introduction, Joe Travers totes One Size as “the second best-sounding album in the entire Frank Zappa catalog.” Frank had a new toy: 24-track recording. Every layer-within-a-layer is used to the fullest, especially on opening track “Inca Roads.” The sound travels much farther than its 21st century treatment, especially on the low end. It’s more percussion-forward, and the drums enjoy more dynamics.

("Now, what kind of a guru are you?") By the mid-70s, Frank was an established guitar guru. Hearing the metallic chirp of fingers on strings on “Can’t Afford No Shoes” is evidence of the relationship between man and instrument. It’s an extension of his witty, razor-sharp self. My copy had some unfortunate noise on “Sofa 1,” but the bass overpowered it just fine. Tom Fowler’s tone is sumptuous and with such a high pile, I could fall asleep on it. I heard more hoarseness in Frank’s voice than I remembered on “Po-Jama People,” the bass not as balanced with guitar. There’s a gorgeous phase-in on, “An’ some cozy little footies on their mind.” – Frank always dealt funny lyrics to use as benchmarks, and new details to notice every time one listens.

The stereo pan on the trilling synths and bells of “Florentine Pogen” wrapped around my ears. It’s a shiningmoment for vocals on One Size, and one of the leaner, more muscular arrangements on the record. Between pondering the significance of short person behavior, I made note of the spectacular drum rolls and fills in “San Ber’dino” and “Andy,” dealt by Chester Thompson. The latter’s guitar solo is pushed far back, and super-fast vocals are muddied from their closeness.

I’m embarrassed to say I had to reach out to a good friend and Deutschland native to ask if the translation of the German section of “Sofa No. 2” was for real, or if Frank was pulling our legs. “I am the dirt beneath your rollers/I am your secret smut/And lost metal money down your cracks!” I get the feeling it’s a spoof of the famous “I am become death, destroyer of worlds” scene from the Gita. The original “Sofa No. 2” is focused onviscous, globular shapes the bass makes.

Modifying The Dog

Now that I was re-acquainted with the original dog, I could dive into Chris Bellman’s interpretation of One Size.

I was kind of shocked to hear how subdued the rhythm section was on his “Inca Roads,” the drums are pushed way far back. It makes more space for the vocals, sang and otherwise. Don’t worry, “Guacamole queen! Guacamole queen! Guacamole! queen” retains its gut-busting power. It will never not be funny. The guitar on “Can’t Afford No Shoes” sounds full and sharp, but again, its drums lack punch. On “Sofa No. 1,” George Duke scoops up deliciously globulous synths, and there’s a wonderful texture in the sound. Whether it’s the ear-tickling quality of Frank’s voice on “Po-Jama People,” a slight delay in the double-tracking in the first chorus, or hearing Napoleon Murphy Brock’s breath on “Inca,” the area this One Size remaster excels in is the vocals. “Po-Jama”’s harmonies emphasize such such profound prose as:

“Heyyy, nehneheyyneneheyyneneheyy, HUAY-HUAY-HUAY!”

(This has no business sounding as good as it does.)

“Florentine Pogen” is the main attraction of this One Size remaster. This side two opener smacked me in the face the way no other iteration, analog or digital, has. I’m grateful to feel more of Chester Thompson’s presence on this side of the album. There’s a much better balance of the drums. Guitar, percussion of all manners, keys, supercharged buzzing bass, and saxophone create wonderful texture in the recording. This aural interest is exactly what I seek in a Zappa recording. The dismount of the players before Chester’s “gorilla’s attack” is delightfully wrong; like perfectly-choreographed falling down the stairs. I hear a little more reverb on Frank’s voice and the piano on “Evelyn.” I must be sat in the front row of the world’s weirdest dinner theater; hearing the PA in one ear and the pink-shirt-wearing singer in the other.

ZULCH! “San Ber’Dino” is appropriately beefed-up. It begins with heavily-affected harmonica by our dear friend Captain Beefheart, moving under the alias “Bloodshot Rollin’ Red.” If One Size is a more progressive, sang-through Hot Rats, it’s sorely missing its stink-breath “Willie The Pimp.” Tom’s bass is presented exactly when and where it matters. Tom delivers a thick, more plush feel to “Sofa No. 2.” It’s one of the most pleasing sounds on the LP.

The Special Doily

For whatever reason, I needed much more volume on the bonus tracks disc compared to my original copy and disc one. Side three opens with a rough mix of “Inca Roads,” recorded in part at the KCET-TV studio. There’s nine more seconds of run time on the back end. I heard a pronounced harmony on the vocals with a striking moment of dissonant bass. It’s fascinating to hear sparklier drums, and Frank thinking as he solos, as opposed to the methodical-smooth of him in the studio. My dear “Guacamole queen! Guacamole queen!” is ripe; it’s remarkable how fully-formed this composition was.

The lyrics of the alternate “Can’t Afford No Shoes” hadn’t found their space in the song just yet. It was recorded at Caribou, but feels more “live” than the actual live cut before it! One puts themselves in Frank’s shoes; picking through a recording for exactly what’s “not ready” and what is.

I do not think of “sparse” when I think “Frank.” I think quite the opposite; toilet humor for twelve-year-olds (and those who still laugh at toilet humor for twelve-year-olds,) set against some of the most consistent, stylized, and potent musicianship of the ’70s. To hear even a slightly audible goof or a quiet moment before the take fills one with wonder. Frank counts the band in on “Sofa No. 1.” A slight warble in the bass can be heard. A flub must be buried deep in the music. I didn’t hear it, but it must be there, because someone cries, “Ah, shit!” It shatters the illusion of this work being immaculately conceived, or otherwise dropped from a flying saucer made of a wheel of cheese or something.

The old mix of “Po-Jama People” wears its roughness well. There’s more gurgling, ambling guitar, and I remain impressed with how the remaster captures Frank’s lower vocal range. It sounds like a good, broken-in pair of jeans feels.

“This shouldn’t take long.” Famous last words, Frank! “Let’s do it suave.”

A more stately piano on this “Evelyn” outtake stiffens up Frank’s vocal performance. It’s the first of this disc’s tracks recorded at favorite Zappa haunt The Record Plant. Curiously, the credits in the album booklet list “Evelyn” as the only track here mixed by Joe Travers.

An early version of “Andy” is retitled “Something/Anything.” It remains a winner. Some stuff just has good bones. Finally, Chester is granted his shining moment. The rhytm section excites as the band lays into a sleazy, theatrical “Is there anything good inside of you?” You can’t give me the cup-and-can sound of this percussion and expect me not to like it. The rough mix of “Sofa No. 2” has me wishing Frank committed to the German bit as hard on the album version – I nearly spit-take’d my third coffee of the night hearing it. These bonus trackswon’t be streaming until September, with the 50th anniversary super-deluxe edition. In the meantime, I pray for a cold front and a nice, strong wind.

Hearing music composed by someone obsessive and unabashedly, delightfully weird as Frank puts a smile on my face. For the overall sound of the core LP, I’ll hang onto my original copy. The sound is more powerful, and the overall sound is warmer (ugh, another vinyl review that uses this adjective?) For the expanded track listing and especially the supplementary material, I will absolutely be keeping my anniversary edition. Reading is fundamental.

As for "hot dog squishies?" Debatable. But they’re certainly fun.