Burnt Weeny Sandwich – The Movie

Burnt Weeny Sandwich
April 30, 1969 KQED TV, San Francisco, CA
18 min. B&W and color. Originally on 16mm.

Screen captures from the film 'Burnt Weeny Sandwich'

Part 1: http://youtube.com/watch?v=Hn1aV3VnZQg
Part 2: http://youtube.com/watch?v=9IY1STwLoqU
Part 3: http://youtube.com/watch?v=xeHVSKEUfAo

Aired on KQED TV in 1969, the Dilexi Series represents a pioneering effort to present works created by artists specifically for broadcast. The 12-part weekly series was conceived and commissioned by the Dilexi Foundation, an off-shoot of the influential San Francisco art gallery founded by James Newman. Newman, who operated the Dilexi Gallery from 1958 until 1970, saw this innovative series as an opportunity to extend the influence of the contemporary arts far beyond the closeted environment of the commercial gallery.

Formal agreement was reached with KQED in 1968 with the station’s own John Coney designated as series producer. No restrictions, regarding length, form or content, were imposed upon the works, except for Newman’s stipulation that they be aired weekly within the same time-slot. Upon their completion, the 12 works were broadcast during the spring and summer of 1969.

Of the 12 artists invited to participate in the Dilexi Series, ten of them completed new works, and two, Andy Warhol and Frank Zappa, submitted extant works. The tapes and films are far-reaching in their approaches to the medium and the circumstance of the broadcast series. Some of the artists chose to intervene in the relationship of broadcaster and audience by broaching the subject of communications. (…)

Burnt Weeny Sandwich is another rarity. Created by Frank Zappa, the film, in one form or another, found its way into a larger work, Uncle Meat. Something of a high-speed home movie, Burnt Weeny Sandwich features the original Mothers of Invention, along with Captain Beefheart. This is one of the works that exists only within the Dilexi Series.

Once broadcast, the Dilexi Series was stored on the original 2″ videotape masters, a now archaic video format. Some masters were transferred to a contemporary format in 1982 and presented at the S.F. Video Festival. Through the generosity of KQED, the last of the Dilexi Series was just transferred to an exhibition format. This marks the first time in 22 years that all the Dilexi tapes are available. (…)

More info at: http://globalia.net/donlope/fz/videography/Burnt_Weeny_Sandwich.html

The Music:

  • 00:00 “Uncle Meat: Main Title Theme” (1:26-1:55) from Uncle Meat
  • 00:34 Unidentified Percussion Piece
  • 01:27 “Theme From Burnt Weeny Sandwich” from Burnt Weeny Sandwich
  • 05:47 “A Pound For A Brown (On The Bus)” from Uncle Meat
  • 07:15 “Snork”
  • 07:22 “Dog Breath, In The Year Of The Plague” from Uncle Meat
  • 11:20 Unidentified Percussion & Snorks Piece
  • 11:44 “Prelude To King Kong” from Uncle Meat
  • 15:22 “God Bless America” from Uncle Meat
  • 16:01 “The Dog Breath Variations” from Uncle Meat

More Things to Thank John Coney For:

(King Kong-sized hat tip to Hell’s Donut House.)

Ten Hours of Stan Brakhage Radio Broadcasts

The ever-lovin’ folks at the utterly phenomenal UBUWEB have posted MP3s of Test of Time, a 20-part series of radio broadcasts by seminal experimental filmmaker Stan Brakhage, recorded at KAIR, Univeristy of Colorado in 1982.

The series includes “long passages of Brakhage musing on subjects such as film, poetry, theater, and other arts. Includes music, lectures, readings, and sound pieces by Edgar Varèse, Peter Kubelka, Kenneth Patchen, Charles Ives, Kurt Schwitters, Robert Duncan, Ed Dorn, Glenn Gould, James Joyce, Virgil Thomson, Gertrude Stein, Olivier Messiaen, Louis Zukofsky, William Faulkner, Charles Olson, Henry Cowell and many others.”  Transcripts of the broadcasts are also provided in both HTML and PDF formats.

UBUWEB also offers a free PDF e-book edition of The Brakhage Lectures (1972: The GoodLion, The School of the Art Institute of Chicago), in which he discusses the works of George Méliès, D.W. Griffith, Carl Theodore Dreyer, and Sergei Eisenstein.

Captain Beefheart’s Ten Commandments For Guitarists

This arrived courtesy of the Wall of Sound newsletter…

(1) LISTEN TO THE BIRDS

That’s where all the music comes from. Birds know everything about how it should sound and where that sound should come from. And watch hummingbirds. They fly really fast, but a lot of times they aren’t going anywhere.

(2) YOUR GUITAR IS NOT REALLY A GUITAR

Your guitar is a divining rod. Use it to find spirits in the other world and bring them over. A guitar is also a fishing rod. If you’re good, you’ll land a big one.

(3) PRACTICE IN FRONT OF A BUSH

Wait until the moon is out, then go outside, eat a multi-grained bread and play your guitar to a bush. If the bush doesn’t shake, eat another piece of bread.

(4) WALK WITH THE DEVIL

Old delta blues players referred to amplifiers as the “devil box.” And they were right. You have to be an equal opportunity employer in terms of who you’re bringing over from the other side. Electricity attracts demons and devils. Other instruments attract other spirits. An acoustic guitar attracts Casper. A mandolin attracts Wendy. But an electric guitar attracts Beelzebub.

(5) IF YOU’RE GUILTY OF THINKING, YOU’RE OUT

If your brain is part of the process, you’re missing it. You should play like a drowning man, struggling to reach shore. If you can trap that feeling, then you have something that is fur bearing.

(6) NEVER POINT YOUR GUITAR AT ANYONE

Your instrument has more power than lightning. Just hit a big chord, then run outside to hear it. But make sure you are not standing in an open field.

(7) ALWAYS CARRY YOUR CHURCH KEY

You must carry your key and use it when called upon. That’s your part of the bargain. Like One String Sam. He was a Detroit street musician in the fifties who played a homemade instrument. His song “I Need A Hundred Dollars” is warm pie. Another church key holder is Hubert Sumlin, Howlin’ Wolf’s guitar player. He just stands there like the Statue of Liberty making you want to look up her dress to see how he’s doing it.

(8) DON’T WIPE THE SWEAT OFF YOUR INSTRUMENT

You need that stink on there. Then you have to get that stink onto your music.

(9) KEEP YOUR GUITAR IN A DARK PLACE

When you’re not playing your guitar, cover it and keep it in a dark place. If you don’t play your guitar for more than a day, be sure to put a saucer of water in with it.

(10) YOU GOTTA HAVE A HOOD FOR YOUR ENGINE

Wear a hat when you play and keep that hat on. A hat is a pressure cooker. If you have a roof on your house the hot air can’t escape. Even a lima bean has to have a wet paper towel around it to make it grow.

Punk Zine Archive

Courtesy of the excellent bastards at Operation Phoenix Records, the Punk Zine Archive includes sanctioned PDF scans of bedrock punk zines, including Maximum Rock ‘n’ Roll nos. 2 – 45 and misc. thereafter, Flipside no. 1 and misc. nos. 24 – 79, and numerous issues of HeartattaCK and Suburban Voice.

Run, don’t walk. And maybe consider contributing to the effort, eh wot?

Weird Guitar Guy Scares Children

Update: Well, it appears this was erroneous or a hoax (see the comment from Hell’s Donut House)…but it’s still kinda funny…

From the New York Post:

May 3, 2007 — Kindergarten kids in ritzy L.A. suburb Calabasas have been coming home to their parents and talking about the “weird man” who keeps coming to their class to sing “scary” songs on his guitar. The “weird” one turns out to be Bob Dylan, whose grandson (Jakob Dylan’s son) attends the school. He’s been singing to the kindergarten class just for fun, but the kiddies have no idea they’re being serenaded by a musical legend — to them, he’s just Weird Guitar Guy.

Random stuffs

What’s this fascist Dick hiding, anyway?

An above-average Sun Ra discography

The mighty Ivor Cutler on the John Peel show (thanks, Hell’s Donut House)

Weekly experimental music concerts at The Chapel in Wallingford (Seattle)

Dope-ass Vermont

Swanky “file browse” stylings (and another)

14 Rules for Fast Web Pages (excellent: summarizing Steve Souders’ presentation at Web 2.0, with links to the PowerPoint [very recommended] and all the references)

More optimization: “Performance Research, Part 4: Maximizing Parallel Downloads in the Carpool Lane” (YUIblog — related to the above)

More optimization: Optimizing Page Load Time (see bottom for additional links)

Why brain-teaser interview questions are stoopid

Bitchen 16mm scanned telecine machine (3 CCD coming soon, they say)

Official Forrest J. Ackerman site

The Online 78rpm Dicographical Project

The one and only Travis (ex-Ono)

Impressive synth sharity

And did I mention Vincent Collins?

Antique Phonograph and Gramophone Thai Society (APGTS)

Thai children and a gramophone, date unknown.Courtesy of Climax Golden Twins’ blog, I learned of the Antique Phonograph & Gramophone Thai Society (APGTS) and the first phonograph and gramophone museum in Thailand.

The site is mostly in Thai with a little English sprinkled about, but it’s chockablock with photographs, downloadable MP3s you have to hunt for (unless you can read Thai I presume), and illustrated articles such as the one about the Phonautograph, an 1857 invention by one Leon Scott that has “a pulley and when the weight falls, a lamp-blacked glass, under a stiff pig’s bristle, has a translation motion and a stiff pig’s bristle draw a line if no sound.”

Make sure to stop by the photographic tour of the museum. If you happen to be passing through Thailand and wish to visit, you are asked to please first call 02-9399920 or 02-9399553, or email them ahead of time. (I presume it’s in Bangkok but, um, I can’t tell for sure.)

Here’s direct links to some of the MP3s I managed to scrounge up at the site — and apologies if I’ve mangled the titles.

Naptown Music, Sing This Song…

Calling all Hoosiers… For a good time Indy-style (yeah, kind of an oxymoron), stop by amongst the cornrows…Naptown!, posted at the Curved Air blog.

It includes various articles and some music downloads of ’70s-ish Indy music-ness: mostly jazz (e.g. The Naptown Afro-Jazz Quintet), funk and soul. But it even offers that rarest of beasts: some electronic somethings by a talented IU student Bloomingtonian named Steve Birchall. Bizarrely enough, that release is currently available on CD from Mimaroglu Music Sales. This is bizarre because I only just now Googled up this fact, yet the post I wrote mere moments ago happened to be about the Turkish electronic composer, Ilhan Mimaroglu. (Back in my Indy days, me and my friends called this a “toing,” sorta like synchronicity on acid and involving quantum physics and hootenannies. Long story.)

One fine discovery via that post is the Indiana 45s site — “a resource dedicated to the documentation and preservation of music and the history of Hoosier artists.” In other words, a really pretty thorough discography. Being good Hoosiers, it also includes some LPs, site name be damned.

Update: The aforementioned Steve Birchall electronic music album, Reality Gates (1973) recorded at the venerable Gilfoy Sound, proves to be really pretty good and well recommendable. Engaging and somewhat adventurous, and not as austere and stiff as many electronic works of that academic era. Highly recommended.

Alas, so far I can find precious little online about Mr. Birchall — or at least little I can be sure is actually about the electronic composer. It appears he had a stint as a writer editor for Digital Audio magazine back in the ’80s, which published his widely-linked interview with Frank Zappa in 1984. I’d love to know more about this (sorry) forgotten figure in Indiana experimental music — so if you know anything at all, please do post a comment.

Missing Pieces by Ilhan Mimaroglu

Composer Ilhan Mimaro�luI’ve been listening to a fair amount of early electronic music lately.

Via the copiously entertaining and worthwhile EARLabs site, I came upon Missing Pieces, a downloadable collection of eight early electronic and musique concrète works by Turkish composer Ilhan Mimaroğlu, culled from three out-of-print LPs released by the Finnadar and Turnabout labels.

Available tracks:

Bowery Bum (1964)
Intermezzo (1964)
Agony (1965)
Prelude for Magnetic Tape I (1966-67)
Prelude for Magnetic Tape VI (1966-67)
Prelude for Magnetic Tape IX (1966-67)
Prelude for Magnetic Tape XI (1966-67)
Prelude for Magnetic Tape XII (1966-67)

(Fwiw, there’s apparently also a BitTorrent floating about, courtesy of the Avant Garde Project, that includes these and a few other pieces, plus a text transcription of liner notes.)

For those unfamiliar with him, following are some biographic notes written by Mimaroglu, though I’m not able to determine their original source at this time.

Time has told in first person singular that I was born March 11, 1926, in Istanbul, turkey; son of the eminent architect, Kemalletin, whom I have never known as he died when I was barely a year old. He had wanted me to grow up with music. There was a phonograph in our house and a number of classical records. Those were my only toys.

I was also hearing music that the environment was offering me, music that I regarded rather anodine and began to say to myself that there ought to be more to music than all that. Indeed there was. First jazz revealed itself to me, then contemporary art music. My mother wanted me to go to the conservatory. I declined. They would teach me the wrong things there I didn’t know enough about music yet to tell what’s wrong and what’s not. Instead, law school. I couldn’t have cared less about law anyway. But I learned one important thing there, that I should obey only laws I could have made myself. Then came the time for music education as I knew enough about music to avoid the pitfalls. One learns best what ones already knows.

The first products of electronic music and/or musique concrete reached me in the early fifties. By that time I had established a reputation in Turkey as a writer and broadcaster on music. The Rockefeller Foundation heard about me and had me visit New York [in 1955] for a program of studies at Columbia University (primarily in musicology under Paul Henry Lang and composition under Douglas Moore).

A few years later I returned to New York to establish residence and further my studies at Columbia with a program centered around electronic music as in the course of my first visit I had come into closer contact with the work in electronic music (tape music) conducted at Columbia University by Otto Luening and Vladimir Ussachevsky.

For many years I worked in the studios of the Columbia-Princeton Electronic Center [more @ Wikipedia]. My primary mentor was Ussachevsky. I also had the occasion to work with Edgard Varése and Stefan Wolpe, among others. In the early 1970s I was awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship in music compositions.

In addition to my electronic and instrumental/vocal compositions, I wrote a number of books (on history of music, jazz, electronic music, plus a set of diaries, all published in Turkey).

Even if I hadn’t done anything else, having written (and published) my “Project Utopia” pamphlet, I would have regarded my existence justified.

Postscript:  To correct the (sadly) paltry Wikipedia entry on Ilhan Mimaroglu, he contributed music to the soundtrack of Fellini’s Satyricon, but was not a producer of the film (nor, I believe, producer of the soundtrack overall).