Zappa's earliest influences were 1950s pop and rock (such as doo-wop and rhythm and blues), and 20th-century classical composers including Igor Stravinsky and Edgard Varèse. His output was divided between adventurous instrumental compositions and succinct, catchy rock songs with ribald, satirical, or comically absurd lyrics. On stage he demanded virtuosity and spontaneity from his musicians, and employed many performers who would later go on to achieve fame in their own rights. He directed and released a number of films featuring himself, his musicians and entourage, including 200 Motels and Baby Snakes.
His career started in 1955. His earliest recordings date from the mid-1960s, and include collaborations with his school friend Captain Beefheart. In 1965 he joined a bar-band called The Soul Giants, quickly dominating its musical direction and rechristening it The Mothers. Their first release (as The Mothers of Invention; the name alteration requested by their record company) was the 1966 double album Freak Out!. The line-up of the Mothers gradually expanded to accommodate Zappa's increasingly ambitious and avant-garde music, but by 1969 he decided to work outside the band structure, focusing on his solo career, and effectively disbanding the Mothers in 1971.
The beginnings of his solo career in the late sixties and early seventies was characterised by a strong free jazz influence, with albums containing little, if any, lyrical content, such as Hot Rats, Waka/Jawaka and The Grand Wazoo. Towards the mid-seventies his albums became more rock-orientated, with a combination of Jazz Fusion instrumentation and Rock song structures. This more accessible sound bore reasonable mainstream appeal, especially with the release of the well-advertised albums Over-Nite Sensation and Apostrophe (') (which both went Gold), but Zappa's unpredictably eclectic output never led to solid mainstream recognition. He received uniformly lukewarm reviews from popular music publications such as Rolling Stone throughout his career. In his late seventies' output, the gulf between his humorous songs and more lengthy, complex instrumental music widened, and albums, such as Zappa in New York, Joe's Garage: Acts I, II & III, and Sleep Dirt displayed, by track, both sides firmly segregated.
Zappa saw a second run of success in the early eighties with the release of many albums with predominantly comedic rock songs, but later continued to experiment with virtually every style of music through the eighties, and was productive as ever until his death. His output in this later-career period included two albums of strikingly original classical music with the London Symphony Orchestra, an electronic take on 18th-century chamber music (written by the obscure Italian composer 'Francesco Zappa', no relation), an album of Synclavier compositions (misleadingly titled Jazz From Hell which garnered a Grammy award), a double-CD release of electric guitar instrumental music (the laconically titled Guitar) and a plenitude of official live releases, revisiting fan-favourites as well as showcasing Zappa's talent for reinventing the music of others; his version of Stairway to Heaven becoming a word-of-mouth favourite.
Zappa produced almost all of his own albums, spending many hours in the studio recording and manipulating tracks, and was always at the forefront of emerging technologies; from tape editing, collage, multitrack and overdubbing in the sixties to digital recording, electronic instruments and sampling in the eighties. Conversely, Zappa was also a obsessive self-archivist, recording virtually every one of his live performances, and often using live recordings of new material without needing to enter the studio. The archive of tapes at his family home in Los Angeles continues to be a source of posthumous releases for the Zappa Family Trust. He was also noted as a spotter of talent and his shifting line-up of musicians included Lowell George, Jean-Luc Ponty, Terry Bozzio, Chad Wackerman, George Duke, Mike Keneally, Adrian Belew and Steve Vai, as well as giving Alice Cooper his first break in music and working again with his old collaborator Captain Beefheart when his career was in decline.
In the late 1980s he became active in politics, campaigning against the PMRC's music censorship scheme and acting as culture and trade representative for Czechoslovakia in 1989; and considered running as an independent candidate for president of the US.
His death in Los Angeles, California, on 4th December 1993 came three years after he was diagnosed with prostate cancer.
The "Torchum" Never Stops
Frank Zappa Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Steve vai (guitar)
Ray white (guitar, vocals)
Tommy mars (keyboards)
Chuck wild (piano)
Arthur barrow (bass)
Scott thunes (bass)
Jay anderson (string bass)
Chad wackerman (drums)
Ike willis (vocals)
Terry bozzio (vocals)
Dale bozzio (vocals)
Napoleon murphy brock (vocals)
Bob harris (vocals)
Johnny "guitar" watson (vocals)
Thing-fish:
Now, dis nasty sucker is de respondable party fo de en-whiffment o' de origumal potium. through de magik o' stage-kraff, we be able to see him at woik!
He now be preparin' some ugly shit to make yo' life even mo' mizzable den it awready are, since dis batch be resigned to render him immortal! we does not know if it gwine woik yet, but we kin al
Hope fo' de best!
Thing-fish: (singing)
Flies all green 'n buzznin'
In his dunjing of despair
Prisoners grummle an' piss dey' clothes
'n scratch dey' matted hair
A tiny light fum a window-hole
A hunnit yards away
Is all dey ever gets t'know
'bouts de reg'luh life in de day
An' it stink so bad, de stones been chokin'
'n weepin' greenish drops
In de room where de giant fowah-puffer woikin',
'n de torchum never stops
De torchum never stops
De torchum,
De torchum,
De torchum never stops
(go on, 'dewlla! play dat lil' guitar one mo'gin!)
(spoken)
Uh-oh! I smells trubba! he be messin' wit pigmeat heahhh! muthafucker be rejectin' some co-log- nuh directly into de duo-deenum of de unsuspecting victim! now he gone see if he immune to it by e
A dab hisseff!
(singing)
Flies all green an' buzznin'
In his dunjing of despair
An evil prince eats a steamin' pig
In a chamber, right near dere
He eat de snouts an' de trotters foist!
De loins an' de groins I'd soon re-spersed
His carvin' style I'd well re-hoist
He stan' 'n shout:
All main be coist!
All main be coist!
All main be coist!
All main be coist!
An' dis-ergree? well, no one durst...
He de best, of cose, of all de woist
Some wrong been done, he done it foist...
An' he stink so bad, his bones been chokin'
And weepin' greenish drops,
In de vat of galoot co-log-nuh,
Where de re-zease be berlin' up
Berlin' an' uh boilin' up
Co-log-nuh!
Co-log-nuh!
Galoot co-log-uh-nuh!
Thing-fish: (spoken)
Oh! do yoseff a favum 'n don't use it! oooooooh! look at these ugly suckers! boy, when white folks come back fum bein' dead, they sho' gets scary-lookin'! but don't take their appearance too ser
Why, people, 'cause dey say dis de sort o' folks dat belongs on broadway! the broadway zombies collect around the evil prince, who suddenly suspects the presence of an intruder. after taking a lar
Te from an onion he sings...
Evil prince: (singing)
Somewhere, over there, I can tell,
There's a voice of
A potato-headed whatchamacallit
Who does not wish me well!
His clothes are quite stupid,
And also his shoes!
He's got a big ol' duck-mouth!
(who knows how he chews!)
He thinks he knows something
About the great plan!
How ultimate blandness
Must rule and command
He knows not a drop,
Not a crumb,
Not a whit,
Of the reason for doing
This criminal shit
And then, if he did,
Would it matter a bit?
Not at all!
Because it is writ:
Our beige-blandish god
Tends to certify it:
"only the boring and bland shall survive!
Only the lamest of lameness will thrive!"
Take it or leave it, you won't be alive,
If you are overtly creative!
Fairies and faggots and queers are
'creative'
All the best music on broadway is
'native'
Who will step forward
And end all this trouble?
For beige-blandish citizens,
Clutching the rubble
Of vanishing dreams
Of wimpish amusement,
Replaced by a rash
Of 'creative' confusement!
Soon, my brave zombies,
You'll make your return!
Broadway will glow!
Broadway will burn!
(along with the remnants of
Everything new)
My holy disease will do
Wonders for you!
Those lovely producers
Who paid for you 'then'
Will do it again, and again, and again!
Evil prince: (singing to the zombies)
The spying potato
With horrible diction
Will rot in the garbage
When this show's eviction
Takes place shortly after
My alternate skill
Of theatrical sabotage
Triumphs your will!
I've a special review
I've been saving for years
For a show just like this,
With potatoes and queers
I'll say it's disgusting, atrocious, and dull
I'll say it makes boils inside of your skull
I'll say it's the worst-of-the-worst of the
Year,
No wind down the plain, and it's hard on your
Ear
I'll say it's the work of an infantile mind
I'll say that it's tasteless, and that you will
Find
A better excuse to spend money or time
At a tupper-ware party,
So, do be a smarty!
Hold on to that dollar
A little while longer
For spending it here,
Why, it couldn't be wronger!
What's happened to broadway?
Where's it gone, all the glitter?
The 'heart' and the 'soul'
The patter?
The pitter?
And after this deadly review hits the paper,
In will come roper, bender & raper,
To legally execute all that remains
Of this tragic amusement for drug-addled brains
Thing-fish: (singing)
Flies all green an' buzznin'
In his dunjing of despair
Who are all o' dem zombies
Dat he fuckin' wit down dere?
Are dey crazy?
Are dey sainted?
Are dey stage-kraff someone painted?
It have never been explained,
Since at first it were created,
But, a musical, like we's in,
Require a whole bunch o' everythin'!
We talkin' everythin' dat ever been!
Look at her!
Look at him!
Dat what de deal we dealin' in
Dat what de deal we dealin' in
Dat what de deal we dealin' in
Dat what de deal we dealin' in
The 'Torchum' Never Stops is a song by Frank Zappa, part of his 1984 album Thing-Fish. The song describes a dungeon of despair, where prisoners grumble and urinate on themselves, and where the smell of the room chokes up the stones to weep greenish drops. A tiny source of light shining from a hole 100 yards away is all the prisoners ever get to experience of the outside world. An evil prince is also present in the same room, snacking on a steaming pig while carving it. The chorus proclaims the "torchum" never ends in the room while suggesting that the evil prince is the source of the torment.
The song is a complete stage play within itself, featuring multiple characters, spoken word sections, and elaborate guitar solos. The song is a comment on society's tendency toward conformity and how creativity and individuality are discouraged, especially in the world of popular musical theatre. The lyrics reference the broadway zombies collecting around the evil prince, and how the homogenization of theatrical productions has led to the decline of truly creative works. The song ends with a question raised regarding the identity of the zombies, who could either be crazy, sainted or stage-kraff someone painted. The track also features a series of solo-guitar interludes by Steve Vai and Frank Zappa.
Line by Line Meaning
Flies all green 'n buzznin'
There are flies buzzing around in this dismal place
In his dunjing of despair
In the dark, grim dungeon where he resides
Prisoners grummle an' piss dey' clothes
The prisoners are complaining and peeing on themselves
'n scratch dey' matted hair
They are scratching their tangled, dirty hair
A tiny light fum a window-hole
They can only see a small light coming through a hole in the window
A hunnit yards away
The light is a hundred yards away
Is all dey ever gets t'know
That's all they know about the outside world
'bouts de reg'luh life in de day
It's about the regular life outside during the day
An' it stink so bad, de stones been chokin'
The smell is so terrible that it's suffocating
'n weepin' greenish drops
The stones in the room are oozing greenish liquid
In de room where de giant fowah-puffer woikin'
In the room where the torturer is working
'n de torchum never stops
And the torture never stops
Uh-oh! I smells trubba!
Uh-oh! I smell trouble!
he be messin' wit pigmeat heahhh!
He is tampering with someone's food
muthafucker be rejectin' some co-log-nuh directly into de duo-deenum of de unsuspecting victim!
He injected some harmful substance into the victim's intestines
now he gone see if he immune to it by e
Now he will test if the victim is immune to it
A steamin' pig in a chamber, right near dere
An evil prince is devouring a hot pig in a nearby room
He eat de snouts an' de trotters foist!
He eats the pig's snouts and trotters first
De loins an' de groins I'd soon re-spersed
Then he proceeds to eat the pig's loins and genitals
All main be coist!
Everything is ready!
An' dis-ergree? well, no one durst...
And who would dare to disagree?
He de best, of cose, of all de woist
He believes he is the best, of course, despite being the worst
Some wrong been done, he done it foist...
He always takes credit for any wrongdoing
An' he stink so bad, his bones been chokin'
He smells so awful that it's choking his own bones
And weepin' greenish drops
And causing his body to produce greenish liquid
In de vat of galoot co-log-nuh
In a vat of vile concoction
Where de re-zease be berlin' up
Where the disease is brewing
Berlin' an' uh boilin' up
Bubbling and boiling
Oh! do yoseff a favum 'n don't use it!
Oh! Do yourself a favor and don't use it!
look at these ugly suckers!
Look at these repulsive individuals!
boy, when white folks come back fum bein' dead, they sho' gets scary-lookin'!
When white people return from the dead, they look terrifying!
but don't take their appearance too ser
But don't take their looks too seriously
they sho' gets scary-lookin'! but don't take their appearance too ser
Look at how scary they look, but don't judge them solely based on their appearance
Why, people, 'cause dey say dis de sort o' folks dat belongs on broadway!
Because, people say, these are the kind of individuals that belong in a Broadway show!
the broadway zombies collect around the evil prince, who suddenly suspects the presence of an intruder
The Broadway zombies gather around the evil prince, who senses the presence of an intruder
An' he stink so bad, his bones been chokin'
He smells so awful that it's choking his own bones
And weepin' greenish drops
And causing his body to produce greenish liquid
Somewhere, over there, I can tell, there's a voice of a potato-headed whatchamacallit who does not wish me well!
Somewhere in the distance, there's a voice of a person with a potato-shaped head who has ill intentions towards me
His clothes are quite stupid, and also his shoes!
He dresses ridiculously, and his shoes are just as bad
He's got a big ol' duck-mouth! (who knows how he chews!)
He has a large, duck-like mouth and who knows how he chews his food
He thinks he knows something about the great plan!
He believes he knows something important about the grand plan
How ultimate blandness must rule and command
He believes that complete dullness has to be in charge and give orders
He knows not a drop, not a crumb, not a whit, of the reason for doing this criminal shit
He has no understanding or knowledge of why he is engaging in this criminal behavior
And then, if he did, would it matter a bit? Not at all! Because it is writ: Our beige-blandish god tends to certify it
And even if he did understand, it wouldn't make a difference because their bland god approves of it
"only the boring and bland shall survive! Only the lamest of lameness will thrive!" Take it or leave it, you won't be alive, if you are overtly creative!
"Only the most uninteresting and mundane will survive! Only the dullest of dullness will prosper!" Accept it or not, if you are too creatively expressive, you won't survive!
Fairies and faggots and queers are 'creative'
People who are considered fairies, faggots, and queers are seen as being creative
All the best music on broadway is 'native'
The most exceptional music on Broadway is considered to be 'authentically' boring and plain
Who will step forward and end all this trouble?
Who will come forward and put an end to all this chaos?
For beige-blandish citizens, clutching the rubble of vanishing dreams of wimpish amusement, replaced by a rash of 'creative' confusement!
The citizens, who are obsessed with ordinary and monotonous entertainment, are now confused by the sudden emergence of 'creative' chaos
Soon, my brave zombies, you'll make your return! Broadway will glow! Broadway will burn!
Soon, my courageous zombies, you will make your comeback! Broadway will shine bright! Broadway will be on fire!
(along with the remnants of everything new) My holy disease will do wonders for you!
(along with the remains of anything innovative) My sacred disease will bring great benefits to you all!
Those lovely producers who paid for you 'then' will do it again, and again, and again!
The generous producers who supported you in the past will continue to do so repeatedly
The spying potato with horrible diction will rot in the garbage when this show's eviction takes place shortly after my alternate skill of theatrical sabotage triumphs your will!
The potato-like person with awful speaking skills will be thrown away when this show is kicked out, which will happen after my alternate talent for sabotaging theater performances overpowers your desire to continue
I've a special review I've been saving for years for a show just like this, with potatoes and queers
I have a special review that I have been saving for years for a show exactly like this, featuring potatoes and queers
I'll say it's disgusting, atrocious, and dull
I'll claim that it's repulsive, dreadful, and boring
I'll say it makes boils inside of your skull
I'll say it causes boils to form in your head
I'll say it's the worst-of-the-worst of the year
I'll state that it's the absolute worst of the year
No wind down the plain, and it's hard on your ear
It won't even be a breeze, and it will be harsh on your ears
I'll say it's the work of an infantile mind
I'll declare that it's the creation of an immature mind
I'll say that it's tasteless, and that you will find
I'll assert that it lacks taste, and you will agree
A better excuse to spend money or time at a tupper-ware party
It would be a better reason to spend money or time at a Tupperware party
So, do be a smarty! Hold on to that dollar a little while longer
So, be smart! Keep that dollar a little longer
For spending it here, why, it couldn't be wronger!
Using it here would be a terrible mistake!
What's happened to broadway? Where's it gone, all the glitter? The 'heart' and the 'soul' The patter? The pitter?
What has happened to Broadway? Where did all the glamour, the heart, the soul, the lively atmosphere go?
And after this deadly review hits the paper, in will come roper, bender & raper, to legally execute all that remains of this tragic amusement for drug-addled brains
And after this scathing review is published, Roper, Bender & Raper will step in to legally dismantle what is left of this disastrous entertainment for people with drug-affected minds
Who are all o' dem zombies dat he fuckin' wit down dere?
Who are all the zombies that he is messing with down there?
Are dey crazy? Are dey sainted? Are dey stage-kraff someone painted?
Are they crazy? Are they holy? Are they individuals that were painted by the craft of theater?
It have never been explained, since at first it were created
It has never been explained, since its inception
But, a musical, like we's in, require a whole bunch o' everythin'!
But a musical, like the one we're in, requires a lot of different elements!
We talkin' everythin' dat ever been! Look at her! Look at him!
We're talking about everything that has ever existed! Look at her! Look at him!
Dat what de deal we dealin' in
That's the nature of the deal we're involved in
Dat what de deal we dealin' in
That's the nature of the deal we're involved in
Dat what de deal we dealin' in
That's the nature of the deal we're involved in
Dat what de deal we dealin' in
That's the nature of the deal we're involved in
Lyrics © OBO APRA/AMCOS
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind