Terry Bozzio

"I remember when Frank went through the lawsuit thing, he said he might not be able to pay us. We all said we we’re willing to hang for a few months as long as the savings held out in the hopes that things would get better. Frank was really depressed in that time."

Terry Bozzio was Zappa's drummer from 1975 to 1978. His abilities on the kit so impressed Zappa, that he composed a piece of music for him with so many notes on the manuscript that he called it The Black Page.

Bozzio plays on many of the 'classic' late 1970s Zappa albums, appears in the movie Baby Snakes (1979) and can be heard on the posthumous live releases FZ:OZ (2002), Philly '76 (2009), Hammersmith Odeon (2010), Joe's Camouflage (2014), Halloween 77 (2017), Zappa/Erie (2022) and Zappa '75—Zagreb/Ljubljana (2022).

In 1977, Bozzio joined The Brecker Brothers, recording the live album Heavy Metal Be-Bop.

After leaving Zappa, he played with Eddie Jobson's band, U.K.

In 1980, he formed the band Missing Persons with his vocalist then-wife, Dale, guitarist Warren Cuccurullo, bassist Patrick O'Hearn and keyboard player Chuck Wild.

Since then he has worked with the likes of Mick Jagger, Jeff Beck, Steve Vai, Dweezil Zappa, as well as recording and touring as a solo artist.

In 2006, Bozzio was one of the ‘sternly accomplished special guests' on Dweezil's first Zappa Plays Zappa tour.

Shortly before a REMO sponsored drum Master Class on Sunday 27 September 1992, a slightly jet-lagged Bozzio spoke to an incredibly nervous me backstage at the Grand Theatre, Clapham Junction. Though our discussion was quite brief, Bozzio spoke openly and... er, Frankly.

 

First of all, how’s your pickle?
How’s my pickle? It’s just fine!

Could you tell me a little bit about how you came to audition for Frank?
Well, basically: I heard from Eddie Henderson – who I was playing with at the time – that George Duke had said that Zappa was looking for someone. Never heard his music. Three days before the audition, I decided to buy a couple of albums – Live At The Roxy and Apostrophe(’). Didn’t sleep for the next three days. Flew myself down to LA. Went to Zappa’s warehouse – you know, he had a big huge stage, sound and light equipment I’d never seen before. Most difficult music I’d ever seen spread all over the stage. There were about fifty drummers around. There were two Ludwig Octaplus sets set up. One drummer would set one kit up while the other one would audition. They were going back and forth, dropping like flies. So I thought I’d never get this gig, so I asked some friends if they’d heard about a Weather Report audition, because I heard that they were looking for a drummer and I knew I wasn’t gonna get this gig and they said, well Frank’s drummer left…

Chester Thompson?
…yeah, to join them. So that made me even more discouraged. But I thought, well I paid the money to come down here, I owe it to myself to try. The one thing I’d noticed was a lot of the drummers were sort of flaunting their chops. I thought the least I could do was go up there and listen and try and play with the guy.

So I did the best I could: sight-reading a very difficult piece, memorising a very difficult piece, jamming with a very odd time signature – like 19 – and then playing a blues shuffle. At the end of that, Frank said “You sound great, I’d like to hear you again – after I hear the rest of these guys.” I turned to his road manager, his road manager turns to the twenty or so guys that were hanging around and they’re all shaking their heads and the road manager turns around and says, “That’s it, nobody else wants to play after Terry.” So Frank turns to me and says “Looks like you’ve got the gig if you want it.” So I was completely blown away.

What had you been doing up until that point?
I’d gone to school; studied jazz and classical music for 2½-3 years. Played a rock show called Godspell. Then started to play with all the jazz/Latin guys around San Francisco. I played with two or three guys who’d been with Herbie Hancock’s band, Eddie Henderson, Julian Priester, Al Jackson. I was in a band called Listen with Andy Narell, the steel drum player. I was in Azteca with Sheila E’s  father.

Later on you actually worked with Herbie Hancock and Dweezil – on the soundtrack to Back To The Beach.
Yeah, just on that session.

Is that what led to you playing on Dweezil’s second album, My Guitar Wants To Kill Your Mama, in 1988?
I don’t know if that led to it. Dweezil has been around in my life since he was like so high.

It says on the sleeve that you played ‘at short notice’.
Yeah, Gail called me and said Dweezil would love me to play on some tracks on his album and I said “Sure”.

Your time with Frank was during the Warner Bros lawsuit. I guess there was lots of rehearsing and experimentation going on – what songs do you particularly remember from that period?
From that period? I remember when Frank went through the lawsuit thing, he said he might not be able to pay us. We all said we we’re willing to hang for a few months as long as the savings held out in the hopes that things would get better. Frank was really depressed at that time.

It was just me and Patrick O’Hearn and Eddie Jobson. I was gonna be the sort of lead singer and do the stuff that Napoleon did. It was a very strange time, you know. Then he got Ray White – we auditioned lots of singers. I remember doing Pound For A Brown, er… oh God, The Torture Never Stops

The Zoot Allures album was basically just you two with a few ‘guest’ musicians, including Captain Beefheart.
Yeah, he was in the first line-up I toured with.

One of the songs I liked from that period was The Ocean Is The Ultimate Solution, with you and Patrick O’Hearn.
Yeah, actually what happened was me and Dave Parlato and Frank jammed at the Record Plant for about thirty-five minutes – filled up two reels of tape. Zappa, out of all that material, edited it down to about thirteen minutes. He played it on a really interesting Fender 12-string that had a Barcus Berry in the neck. He had the bottom strings turned to Major 7ths … I think he had every string tuned to a different interval, so it was like a Major 7th then a Minor 7th. The next ones were, you know, a tri-tone Major 3rd and a Minor 3rd. He had the low strings panned left and the high strings panned right and the Barcus Berry panned centre; he had this glass-shattering 12-string sound, it was really unique. So we just jammed.

And then he… Patrick was playing with Joe Henderson at the Lighthouse and I went to see him play one night. He was staying at my house. I brought him home. He had this big bass in the car. He didn’t want to leave it in the car, so he brought it inside. That was how Patrick auditioned for Frank. You know, Frank said, “You play that thing?” Patrick said “Yeah!” He goes “Whip it out” And he put him in the studio. Patrick had already played a gig at 2 or 3 in the morning and he had to play The Ocean Is The Ultimate Solution as sort of an audition. So he got the gig and played great bass through it and Frank put an electric guitar solo on there. It was fun.

I’ve got to talk about The Black Page – he said that he wrote that because you were such a talented drummer and he knew you would be able to play it. Could you tell me a little about how you learnt it?
Well, basically he walked in and he said, “What do you think about this, Bozzio?” And I said “Wow, Frank. I’m impressed.” He wrote it because we had done this 40-piece orchestra gig together.

The Abnuceals Emuukha Electric Symphony Orchestra?
Yeah. He was always hearing the studio musicians in LA that he was using on that talking about the fear of going into sessions some morning and being faced with ‘the black page’. So he decided to write his Black Page. Then he gave it to me and I could play parts of it right away. But it wasn’t a pressure thing, it just sat on my music stand and for about fifteen minutes every day for two weeks before we would rehearse I would work on it. After two weeks I had it together and I played it for him. He said, “Great!” took it home, wrote the melody and the chord changes, brought it back in and we all started playing it.

There’s a similar piece called Mo’s Vacation, which you’ve described as “ten Black Pages”. Did you actually play that live?
That was sort of what made The Back Page obsolete. You know, it was like The Black Page, but more of it! I always say with Zappa that the level of difficulty just doesn’t get any worse, it’s just like more of it to memorise and stuff. But Mo’s Vacation had some really hard stuff in it as well.

In 1977, you played on the premiere performance of a song called Envelopes.
Right.

That’s mainly Tommy Mars, with you coming in at the end – was that just an improvised solo?
Yeah, he used it a sort of a set-up piece for me to play a drum solo afterwards.

During your stint with Zappa you played with a whole host of interesting people – I think Flo & Eddie guested at one point?
Yeah.

Beefheart, George Duke – there were also a couple of ladies: Norma Bell and Bianca Odin. He’s just released one track with Bianca on, but we haven’t actually had anything from Norma Bell so far.
Norma Bell was a woman who came from Detroit. She’s a really good saxophone player. She played with Tommy Bolin and, I think, Ralphe Armstrong who was being considered for the gig at the time. He was the Mahavishnu’s bass player. He suggested her. She played with us on stage somewhere like Detroit, where she lived and then Frank brought her along on the road. By the time we got back to LA at the end of the tour she had pretty much succumbed to, you know, hanging out with the wrong people and allegedly doing a lot of drugs. So Frank said, “Forget this!” She wasn’t showing up for rehearsals. She didn’t last very long. I don’t think we recorded anything with her.

No. He’s not very tolerant of people who use those naughty substances. You played some interesting places, though – you played Ljubljana and Zagreb. Do you recall those?
Yeah, definitely. I remember Zagreb was literally the smokiest gig I’ve ever played in my life. It was so smoky that as a comment on it I went out and played the show with an unlit cigarette hanging out of my mouth. The follow spots were like two beacons coming through the fog – like a lighthouse. I had never been in a hockey rink, with 10,000 people, filled with so much smoke in my life. It was probably horribly unhealthy. But the gig went over great. They didn’t say a peep through the whole show – we thought we were dying a death – then they stood up and cheered for twenty or thirty minutes.

As we left, they were still cheering. It was ridiculous. Then we went to Ljubljana and I remember that I went out after the gig through the arena, which was pretty much empty – went up to the mixing board and was just saying hi to my friends on the crew and there was this guy asleep with his face welded onto the ice – out /on drugs. I just remember those images.

In The Real Frank Zappa Book there’s a few funny stories – I just wondered if you know who the ‘fabulous musician’ was who gratified a girl with a champagne bottle?
Oh no, I don’t. It was probably way before my time. It sounds like a pretty common thing to do!

Why did you leave Zappa?
I kind of… [laughs] it isn’t really common, is it? In the rock ‘n’ roll sense it seems pretty tame compared to some of the stories I’ve heard. Why did I leave Frank? I auditioned with Group 87 to get a deal with CBS the day that we started to resume rehearsals again after a break in Spring of 1978. I went in, I’d cut my hair, I was wearing different clothes, I’d just played this audition and been offered a deal with a record company. We started to rehearse, me and Pat and Frank could tell I wasn’t really into it. So he called me into his ‘office’, as he would say, we stepped behind the stage and he said, “I think it’s time you go off and do your own thing.” Like a good father would: “Son, it’s time for you to strike out on your own.”

But you went off then to join U.K.?
Yeah, I spent about a year not doing much. I auditioned for Thin Lizzy, that didn’t work out.

You also turned down Jethro Tull?
No, he didn’t hear me play until I was with U.K., so that wasn’t until 1980 that I got an offer from him. But in 1978, it was: I auditioned for Thin Lizzy; did one final tour with the Brecker Brothers; then at the end of the year started off with U.K. I spent all of one year with them, then formed Missing Persons.

Of course, you did appear on Joe’s Garage in 1979 as ‘Bald-Headed John’. Have you got any stories about John Smothers?
He’s a great guy, a wonderful guy. Just a real character.

Could you tell me something about Group 87, the band that featured Peter Wolf and Patrick O’Hearn. Was that actually a proper band or just a one-off album?
It didn’t feature Peter Wolf; he was sort of an additional musician. I opted to be an additional musician too because I wanted to make it more of a rock ‘n’ roll band and they wanted to make it more of an instrumental thing. So I said “Fine. I won’t join the band but I’ll make the album.”

The album didn’t get made until a break in 1979 when I was with U.K. It’s Mark Isham, mainly. Patrick O’Hearn, mainly. Peter Maunu wrote all the songs. I arranged a couple of things in there. I did some very inventive drum beats that I believed were to be the beginnings of my making a stylistic statement – I don’t believe I made any stylistic statement until I left Zappa, in terms of innovative drum beats or anything I could call my own. Mark has gone on to be a super film score composer. Patrick is scoring for films. Pete’s on The Arsenio Hall Show.

Could you tell me a little about Missing Persons?
We had our fifteen minutes, as Andy Warhol would say. I think it was a really interesting and fun concept that was just something that would last about that long. I think it was excellent musicians in it; I have nothing but respect for the musicians.

My relationship with Dale was a tragedy. She had all her problems with drugs and alcohol. I had a lot of problems with being co-dependant with her. It was just a chemical firestorm. Anyway, we never really had a very good relationship and in the end that’s what broke it all up.

Like Harry and Rhonda?
No. I mean Harry and Rhonda was completely scripted out by Frank. I just read that stuff.

Chuck Wild was also featured on Thing-Fish, on ‘Broadway piano’.
Yeah. Because we went up to Zappa’s one night just to visit and he said, “Here, read this, read this, read this. Chuck, you play the piano.” And that was that. We had a lot of fun.

How did you meet up with Jeff Beck for the Guitar Shop album?
Well Jeff had been trying to contact me while I was still with Missing Persons and I was always busy. Then I was about to embark on a clinic tour and I got called that day to go down and jam with him and Mick Jagger on the Throwaway video set. Evidently Jagger had auditioned a bunch of drummers and none of them was right and it was the night before it. I walked in and they liked me so that was that. I played drums on the video and was asked to play with Jagger, but I didn’t really want to do it so I asked for a lot of money. It was a long time commitment, for very few gigs and a lot of rehearsals and it just didn’t seem right. So I passed on that.

Jeff said, “I’d like to use you on my thing. What do you think?” His manager flew down a few times and we talked about forming some sort of band. Essentially, it was like Jeff’s name but it was really a three-way writing thing. Tony Hymas wrote most of the music, I guess. I wrote a little. Jeff wrote a little.

That’s your voice on A Day In The House and Guitar Shop, isn’t it?
Yeah, just doing some vocal stuff. The tracks were just kind of lacking. Jeff’s sort of odd to work with because he’s not really a writer.

Is Punky really more fluid?
No [laughs]. Jeff Beck is definitely the best guitar player I’ve ever played with. I mean, Frank is another great guitar player; he’s got his own style. Jeff is just wonderful, though.

Yeah, I’ve been a fan of his for some time.
I think Zappa is, even [laughs].

You played on the soundtrack to the film Twins. Did you actually appear in that film?
I don’t know if I appear. I know I did a close-up one morning. All I know was that was like three days in hell being wallpaper on a movie. But I made $5,000 and bought my tape machine.

You left Beck shortly after that?
No, no, no. We did the album; we did a tour of Japan, a tour of the States with Stevie Ray Vaughan and then a tour of Europe. Came to London, Jeff pulled out his back.

That’s right.
Then we re-scheduled the Hammersmith gigs, did those. Went into the studio for three days and that’s when Tony quit. Then Jeff and I tried to get something together with Roger Daltrey, which never happened. Auditioned to sort of jam with Paul Young and Pino Palladino; that wasn’t a good match. Then we started writing some stuff ourselves. I went home to LA, worked with Richard Marx and I haven’t heard from Jeff since. I gave him a call yesterday; I hope to see him while I’m here but Jeff’s sort of reclusive!

I understand you’re now working with Steve Vai?
Yeah, I just finished making his album.

Is it actually a proper band?
I really don’t know. He would like it to be. My definition of a band is an unconditional acceptance of all members. So far, what I’m doing is playing drums on Steve Vai’s music. That I consider more of a session gig than being in a band with the guy.

Is that playing more structured songs than on his all instrumental Passion And Warfare album?
Yeah, it’s much more structured songs. There’s a little bit of out stuff, but for the most part its sort of AOR heavy metal.

It was rumoured that you might turn up for the Zappa’s Universe tribute concerts that happened last year.
I was in New York at the time and I heard about it there. I was doing a clinic tour and the day I played somebody asked me “Are you gonna go play at The Ritz for the Zappa’s Universe thing?” I said, “What?!” And he said, “Dale’s there, Steve’s there,” all these people there. I said, “No, I haven’t been asked and I’m flying to Boston directly after this gig.” So that was that.

What sort of stuff have you been playing?
I played on something called Dan Halen [laughs]. I played on a lot of bits and pieces of stuff that were really difficult and I had no time to get them together and I was really challenged by Dweezil.

He had been, you know… when you work with anybody with the last name Zappa you don’t have a life, you know, you just play that music. It’s great when you’re young, but at this point in my life I’d rather do my own music.

I went in for one week and cut I guess eight or nine tracks with Dweezil of some of the most difficult stuff I’ve had to do since I left Frank. It was just ridiculous. It wasn’t written out, I had like bits and pieces of the hard bits scribbled out by Mike or… er?

By Mike Keneally?
Mike Keneally, or what’s his name?

Scott Thunes?
Yeah.

Because Dweezil doesn’t actually write music, does he?
No. Dweezil doesn’t know what he’s doing; he just memorises it and tells everybody else to play it! Quite like Frank in a lot of ways, but Frank would write as well. But yeah, I think it was some really good stuff – some really interesting beats and grooves.

 

Interview conducted on Sunday 27th September 1992. The complete interview can be found in my book Frank Talk: The Inside Stories Of Zappa's Other People (Wymer UK, 2017). Drawing by of Terry Bozzio; when I asked what it was, he said, "You tell me!"

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