In Memory of Captain Beefheart

Roughly this time, three years ago, I was browsing my news feed on Facebook and saw that some musicians I followed were posting the same news. 'Rest in Peace Captain Beefheart,' said Steven Wilson and Devin Townsend. 'Who the sock is Captain Beefheart?' -- is the question I asked. Images came to mind of a superhero with massive pectoral muscles and a fondness for cattle products.
I learned a little about him afterwards. A blues singer by the look of it. Eventually I YouTube'd him: a live performance of “Sure 'Nuff 'N Yes I Do.” And just like that, I was hooked, and went down the rabbit hole. “Zig Zag Wanderer” rocked fairly hard, “Abba Zabba” was a fun time, he was delightfully space-out in “Upon the My O My”, “Ice-Cream for Crow”, “Bat Chain Puller”, “Neon Meate Dream of a Octafish.”
Wait, what.
It turned out that Captain Beefheart was primarily known for his 'avant-garde' and 'experimental' compositions that blended the genres of blues, rock and psychedelia together. In other words, he made very weird noises happen. A contemporary of Frank Zappa, and his first album a reported influence of the Beatles, Captain Beefheart's music is very difficult to approach, but devotees urge that when it clicks, it's one hell of a ride. I tried the experiment, and must say that the results were mixed. The bulk of the man's discography, and indeed his magnum opus, was lost on me. Maybe I'm not ready for it yet. Yet the album that I did like is easily one of the best things I've ever heard and it'd be a shame to miss out on it if you like the bluesy-sound. This is Safe as Milk and it is brilliant. I could listen to “Plastic Factory”, “Abba Zabba” or “Zig Zag Wanderer” for hours and in fact have done so. Very much recommended.
However his very best album, by popular agreement amongst fans, is Trout Mask Replica. He pulled out all stops on that album, and the recording process for it is a story in itself: a horrifying tale of over-blown ego and band-member abuse. The result is, on the surface, an insane mess of stream-of-consciousness poetry and atonal guitar-playing. It is said that beneath the surface there is one of the greatest art rock albums ever recorded, but I still haven't heard it (though sometimes, I feel that I came close.) If this sounds like your cup of tea, go right ahead. Pick up Lick My Decals Off, Baby and Shiny Beast (Bat Chain Puller) while you're at it.
Captain Beefheart passed away on December 17, 2010. And while he was not perhaps the most approachable icon of rock and blues, he left behind a body of work that has influenced the experimenters and free spirits amongst us for generations. He also had an excellent moustache.