My Head is My Only House Unless it Rains

When I write for AM, the overarching premise is to provide an inclusive history of rock music. AM tends to dwell on 50 years ago, but is equally enthralled with Kate Bush or Weezer or Rainbow Kitten Surprise. The writing of Calif., though, only allows for the music from the story era - The Mothers, The Moodys, Captain Beefheart, The Doors, Cream, Jefferson Airplane or Love. Many of these bands would peak in the Calif. era. Now keep in mind that the goal of any novelist is to sell some books and so I try to strike a balance by not being too obtuse. That in mind, you'll note that Chapter 3 referenced Zappa and Beefheart, a bit obscure for most readers, but essential to the era.

The song that spins over and again in my mind is the seminal "My Head is My Only House Unless it Rains." Listening to, "Dachau Blues," "Pachuco Cadaver" or "Neon Meate Dream of a Octafish" on Captain Beefheart's surreal 1969 masterpiece Trout Mask Replica would hardly incline one to bracket Don van Vliet within the great balladeers. Yet here, barely three years later, he came up with as achingly beautiful a song of love and longing as one could wish to hear. The Magic Band (largely intact from the crazed Trout Mask sessions) are in fine form, featuring the fluid lead guitar of Zoot Horn Rollo (Bill Harkleroad) in counterpoint to rhythm guitarist Rockette Morton (Mark Boston) and bass player Orejón (Roy Estrada). And that's percussionist Ed Marimba (Art Tripp) on, appropriately, the marimba.

From experience, I can recommend reciting the lyrics to this song at a wedding. "I won't sleep until I find you/ I won't eat until I find you/ My heart won't beat until I wrap my arms around you" – there will not be a dry eye in the house. As much as I've wallowed in the Beefheart version, it's really the cover by San Francisco’s underrated The Tubes that rings most true in my ears. Fe Waybill’s heart-wrenching rendition was supposedly recorded with the band up on mushrooms, and I can envision that image as a vignette for the song. In it our stoned hero's heart won’t beat, he’ll take a train or a bus or a plain until he finds her; indeed, the man’s head is his only house. The sequence intersperses these lyrics of intense ennui with visions of the lost/estranged love; all in hues of purple and gray.

If you're a Beefheart fan, but one that's never ventured beyond Trout Mask Replica, listen to "My Head's" tonight with headphones. Not a fan, listen to The Tubes' version – might turn you on to Captain B. Mushrooms, of course, may help as well.