Don Van Vliet aka Captain Beefheart, 1941-2010

Top 14 Reasons Why Captain Beefheart Was

A True American Genius.

I first heard Trout Mask Replica in the spring on 1988, having bought the cassette after reading about the album's greatness from numerous reliable publications and various top-ten lists. But at first listen, I was stunned, and not in the way that I was expecting. An amalgam of musical instruments played at what I perceived as tuneless and inhuman caterwauling from Mr. Beefheart himself, a man whom everyone claimed had a seven-and-a-half octave range. I honestly thought that I was being "punk'd", a victim of one of the oldest practical jokes in rock in roll. And in a way I was. The joke was on me, because at nineteen years old the windows to my mind had not yet been properly blown open. But they were about to be.

As the years progressed, I got more into jazz. Be-bop, then more free and avant-garde. Ornette, Coltrane, Frank Lowe. I got deeper into blues, and soaked up Howlin' Wolf's demon growl. Dadaism. And then... then I went back to Trout Mask Replica and suddenly I was staring at a vase where a moment before we only two faces. And it all made sense to me now. And I couldn't get enough. The words, the voice. The man. Now there are no words, and the man is gone. But the voice still remains. Thank you for teaching me, Doc.

RIP Don.