We all live inside a plastic balloon which Frank Zappa is trying to pop….

Zappa is no freaked-out psychedelic acidhead—his band is composed of consummate musicians, and their music is vital, alive, and important. Everything the Mothers do, right down to the multi-tracked belches, has infinite purpose. Zappa is a media master…. (p. 29)

The Mothers of Invention, for all their put-on obnoxiousness (studied, I might add) and healthy disrespect for the Establishment, are very much vital as artists in this culture. Some of their music is in the 50's folk medium (a capella pimple-rock)—what better way to describe a culture than by using the culture's music to do it? (pp. 29-30)

The Mothers minutely dissect those hidden years when we were all so pure. Mothers music makes you think. It is savage in its satire….

Zappa makes you squirm, and rightly so—no one is perfect...