He smirks and takes a thoughtful drag on his cigarette.
What most spoils my appreciation for Zappa’s sincere and beautiful self-absorption is when he pontificates about typical pop lyrics about love and falling leaves and whatnot. I wish I could find the clips from the Classic Albums episode on Apostrophe and some other self-indulgent album that preceded it. There were 3 instances of him ragging on pop lyrics and then explaining how his super-deep lyrics about dingleberries don’t fit into conventional song structures. The third time the documentary cut to a clip of him talking over that fusion music his 12-piece band cranked out like clockwork, I had to change the station.
Oh Frank, you have the power to make me sick of myself. Shut up and play your guitar!