It may seem a quaint notion now, but there actually was a time when Frank Zappa was considered one of the prime geniuses of rock. Somehow it just didn't seem to matter all that much that those of his compositions which bore any relationship to rock 'n' roll form at all were either sarcastic exercises in calculated banality or self-indulgent parodies of Fifties group harmonies, and at the time we were still largely convinced that his perennial air of snot-mustached condescension was good for us….

[Those] early albums did contain some striking music and lyrics and were exceptionally well put-together, solid collages of satiric vitriol and Mad magazine scatology zappin' straight atacha with aim that was close enough to make the whole thing titillating….

[The] succession of albums beginning with Burnt Weenie Sandwich has been marked with a steady downward curve in quality, and with Fillmore East we...