“I’d always thought music was too formal,” Don Van Vliet told one US critic in 1973. “So I thought, ‘I’ll get into this and fix it.’” The fix, by then, was well and truly on.
Four years earlier, Van Vliet, aka Captain Beefheart, had released his masterpiece, the avant-rock behemoth that was . Recorded with his Magic Band, it distorted Delta blues, Beat poetry and free jazz through the prism of his own absurdist imagination, creating a whole new musical dialogue. It was frenzied and disciplined, visionary yet tradition-bound.
The same contradictions came to define Beefheart’s entire career, in which an astonishing body of work was offset by an eccentric personality and tales of almost tyrannical leadership. Born and raised in Southern California, Van Vliet’s first love was art – painting and sculpting from an early age. Jazz, blues and R&B provided the soundtrack to his teenage years, during which he bonded with fellow Antelope Valley High School pupil .
The pair began writing song parodies and B-movie scripts, one of these – – giving rise to a new alter ego. In 1964, Van Vliet headed for LA with what became the first incarnation of his Magic Band. Debut album landed three years later, foisting Beefheart’s octave-hopping voice and shamanic blues onto a largely unmoved public.
It was the beginning of a pattern that would frustrate and confound him throughout most of his musical life: adored by critics and fans, but shunned by the wider world. Conscio.
