"Sure 'Nuff 'N Yes I Do" and "Electricity" are the standout tracks here, the rest really seem like filler to me. The film of those two songs on the beach at Cannes is a splendid document of early Beefheart:
I think Safe As Milk was the last Beefheart album I got, so I was prepared for it; but to think the reaction when this dropped on unsuspecting ears in the midst of the Summer Of Love. Grown So Ugly is the sleeper track of the album, imho.
Not my first Beefheart record, but it’s my favorite and the one I play most often. I love all phases of his career but this one is just perfect.
I always had the feeling that if John was steering the Beatles music direction in 1967, they would've put out an album that's psychedelic but not lushly overdubbed, somewhat like 'Safe as Milk'.
Safe As Milk is, as others have said here, one of the best debut albums ever. Unfortunately, when discussing 1967, lots of people overlook it (something I've seen also happening with The Mothers' Absolutely Free). The Magic Band was one of the best white blues bands (even though they went beyond the genre boundaries and explored other sounds too). Don was a stunning singer from day one, Ry Cooder and Alex St. Clair brilliantly combined their guitar parts in a splendid weave, and the rhythm section was very strong, particularly John French, who, even though not the genius drummer he would become soon, he was already an inventive and dynamic player. This is the line-up that could have made it big (commercially, I mean), hadn't Cooder left right after the "girl with the fish head" episode days before the Monterey Pop Festival. But it seems that was not to happen with this band. Ever. A true idiosyncratic gem from the 60's.
From Rolling Stone: The Odyssey of Captain Beefheart: Rolling Stone's 1970 Cover Story In 1964 the Magic Band was ready to begin playing teen age dances in its home town. The one stage appearance of the first Beefheart ensemble was bizarre to the point of frightening. All members of the Magic Band were dressed in black leather coats and pants with black high heel boots. The lead guitar player had a patch over one eye and long dangling arms that reached from his shoulders to half way below his knees. At a time when long hair was still a rarity, the Captain sported long dark locks down to his waist. It was simply outrageous. The band was an immediate sensation in Lancaster and very soon its fame began to spread throughout Southern California. Beefheart's brand of abrasive blues-rock was truly a novelty to young listeners in 1964. Record companies interested in the new sound began to take notice. In mid 1964 Beefheart entered into the first of a long series of disastrous agreements with record producers. His first release on A&M was a new version of "Diddy Wah Diddy" made popular by Bo Diddley. It featured his own style of frantic harp playing and an incredibly "low down" voice hitting notes at least a half octave lower than the lowest notes ever sung by any other rock performer. The record was a hit in Los Angeles and for a while it appeared that Beefheart was going to be a brilliant success in the music business. But it was not to be. Beefheart recorded an album of new music and took it to Jerry Moss of A&M (Alpert and Moss). Moss listened to the songs — "Electricity," "Zig Zag Wanderer," "Autumn's Child," etc. — and declared that they were all "too negative." He refused to release the album. Beefheart was crushed by this insensitivity and abruptly quit playing. A&M released the remaining single it had in the can. The words to "Frying Pan" now seemed strangely prophetic: "Go down town/ You walk around/A man comes up, says he's gonna put you down/You try to succeed to fulfill your need/Then a car hits you and people watch you bleed/Out of the frying pan into the fire/Anything you say they's gonna call you a liar." The record went nowhere and neither did Beefheart. For almost one year he lived in retirement back in Lancaster. The second break in Beefheart's career arrived in 1965 when producer Bob Krasnow of Kama Sutra agreed to release the same material that A&M had rejected. Beefheart reassembled the Magic Band and returned to the studio to record the twelve cuts of Safe As Milk (Buddah BDS 5001), an album which is one of the forgotten classics of rock and roll history. Even though the album had been delayed for a year, it was still far ahead of its time. It featured the unmistakable Beefheart style of blues and bottleneck guitar, the first use in popular music of an electronic instrument called the therimen, and the first effective synthesis in America of rock and roll and Delta blues. For the first time also, Beefheart was able to demonstrate the power and range of his voice. On one song, for example, Beefheart's vocal literally destroyed a $1200 Telefunken microphone. Hank Cicalo, engineer for the sessions, reports that on the song "Electricity" Beefheart's voice simply wouldn't track at certain points. Although a number of microphones were employed, none of them could stand the Captain's wailing "EEEE-Lec-Triccc-ittt-EEEEEEEE" on the last chorus. This, incidentally, can be heard on the record. With an excellent album under his belt Beefheart felt confident enough to go on the road. In early 1966 he went on a tour of England and Europe where Safe As Milk had attracted considerable attention. When he returned to the States he played gigs at the Whiskey A-Go-Go in Los Angeles and the Family Dog in San Francisco. Well received in the burgeoning psychedelic rock scene, it seemed once again that Beefheart was on the verge of success. The Magic Band was scheduled to play a gig at the Fillmore and to appear at the Monterey Pop Festival, both of which could have been springboards to the top. Then disaster struck. Beefheart's lead guitar player suddenly quit the band leaving a gap which could not be filled. The unusual nature of Beefheart's songs make it necessary for him to spend months teaching each new musician his music. The departure of the lead guitar destroyed Beefheart's chances in the San Francisco scene. The Monterey Pop Festival went on without him. Those who attended it never knew what they had missed. From this point in the story, events become even more chaotic and difficult to unravel. Beefheart returned to Los Angeles and tried to put together a new band and a new set of songs. His producer, Bob Krasnow, was to arrange the second Beefheart album on Buddah. According to sources in the Los Angeles record industry, Krasnow deliberately allowed the option on Beefheart's contract with Buddah to expire. When this happened he signed Beefheart to a personal contract and then sold the rights to Beefheart's next album to both Buddah Records and MGM. Tapes of the album were then made at two different studios, apparently at the expense of both companies. When the sessions were finished in the summer of 1968 Beefheart left for a second tour of Europe.
I lent my copy of Safe as Milk to a friend who collects blues albums and had never heard it ( mainly because Mr.Beef is a white guy I think and he was of the opinion that no white man could play the blues!). He said it was the best blues album he had ever heard and refused to return it!!! I later stole it back and cocked my leg up against his waste bin.
I admit having only listened to SaM piecemeal, but I'm not a huge fan of it. (My "definitive" favorite album is Clear Spot; I suppose I have a fondness for his blues revival period. Yet I find enjoyment in all the other ones too, except this earliest one.) I find it crude, and in a certain way as "crassly commercial" - for its day - as Unconditionally Guaranteed but with inferior musicianship. Abba Zaba does have a rhythmic element foreboding of (the more original) things to come. Perhaps I'm not such a big fan altogether of pre-psychedelic White rock after all. Even Zappa, whom I'm quite a fan of, I pretty much can't stand listening to his first two albums, with that go-go sound and that tambourine...
Clear Spot is a good album. I can't separate it easily from The Spotlight Kid in my memory because I have both albums on one twofer CD. The only Beefheart I don't play very much is Trout - I guess I admire it more than like it. I think SaM was trying to be commercial but not crassly so - I certainly prefer it to the Stones early 'blues' albums. Take your points though.
Trout Mask Replica was my first Beefheart LP, but second purchase Safe As Milk is the one which really hooked me to the Captain. I'm a bit puzzled why people are calling it an overlooked album, I think SaM nowadays is among Beefheart's most beloved releases. On the Rate Your Music site it's actually the highest ranking Beefheart album, way above TMR. For what it's worth, my favorite Captain Beefheart albums in order: 01. Shiny Beast (Bat Chain Puller) 02. Safe As Milk 03. Clear Spot 04. Doc At The Radar Station 05. Trout Mask Replica
I have one question about SaM... Where the hell does that baby face come from?! It sure gives me the creeps!
That's interesting, I always assumed his birth name was Van Vliet (possibly dutch ancestors). Why did he add the 'Van' to his surname, as a hommage to painter Vincent Van Gogh? (I know Don was a Van Gogh admirer...)
i love beefheart from 1966-1970, as well as 1978 and 1980. Trout Mask / Decals are absolutely amazing.
My first exposure to Beefheart was Strictly Personal and I came to Safe As Milk much later. While Don's personality shines through on SAM, I find it a bit quaint even in comparison to Strictly Personal. SAM is Beefheart with one foot still looking towards the trends of the day. Nonetheless there's no one else at the time making music like this.
The '70-'72 period (captured in the more recent box Sun Zoom Spark--Lick My Decals , Clearspot, Spotlight Kid, plus outtakes) is essential as is the last period (Bat Chain Puller, and Doc at the Radar Station, w/Ice Cream For Crow being less essential to me ears). Safe as Milk and Mirror Mask are both easy listening. Trout Mask Replica is iconic but OMG... I have a bunch of the live stuff and those are a wild ride too. Listening to the Captain's banter and responses to the audience really lends flavor. I have the Grow Fins box but never play it, opting instead for any of the above. FWIW, Doc at the Radar Station remains my overall favorite.
I agree with the sentiments that the early Magic Band was one of the very, very few white R&B bands that doesn't sound like an embarrassing parody. They had serious chops and groove unmatched by almost any band then or now.
I'm not sure he made enough albums during his lifetime for an ABA but I'd love to see someone tackle the post-1983 releases. Definitively sort out which are legit, which are questionable grey-area and which are straight-up bootlegs. Oh, and also which are worth getting. I can't be the only one with a messy collection of Ozits and Milksafes and Vipers and a wish-list of ones I think I might want with little to no idea what I should and shouldn't have.
