Wowie Zowie stikres me almost as parody – as both a celebration and deconstruction of the upbeat, positive, early-rock songs of Zappa’s youth. The song features pleasant vocal harmonies on the chorus parts, and the funny nasal-voiced Zappa character we’ve heard before, who professes his devotion, despite his lover’s various shortcomings. The production, appropriately enough, is led by spindly guitar and jangling chords, which play alongside an active vibraphone part (because this is a Zappa song, after all.)
The bridge boasts some classic 50s-esque ‘woo-ooing’, and the transition back to the verse part has some great doo-wop, almost barbershop-style layered vocals.
Fittingly, the song’s structure is pretty plain; it goes back and forth between verse, chorus, bridge, etc, as one might expect. There are no real instrumental solos, just the occasional musical break following the pattern of the verse. The song proceeds a while longer in the same vein, though the connection to Zappa’s lover’s dad being “the heat,” which is followed by a conspicuous inhalation sound, is amusing in context of the “help I’m a cop” bit coming later on this album. The outro with the doo-wop vocals plays nicely against the title ‘wowie zowie’.
His body is a pear, dripping with juices. Fruit flies cricle him day and night regardless of the season. He’s in a wheelchair most of the time, walking his feet forward so he doesn’t have to touch the wheels. When he arrives at a place without accessibility he locks his wheelchair up with a bike lock. The fruit flies follow him. They nest in his hair, his knotty beard, the pockets of his safari vest. Generations have called this pear-man home, generations innumerable back through the swirling haze of fruit fly history.