This was confirmed for me when I read on Wikipedia that many critics down the years have placed them alongside the Beatles and the Stones as the greatest rock groups of all time.
In 1990, the first year they became eligible, The Who were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Their display describes them as prime contenders for the title of “World’s Greatest Rock Band”. Only the Beatles and the Stones received a similar accolade at the Rock Hall.
But way back when, in the late 1960s, it was the first rock opera, Tommy, from 1969, which initially got us hooked on The Who. Sure we were aware of a few of their singles – they were formed in 1964 – but never paid much attention, although My Generation, the title track of their first album, became a firm favourite once we acquired their seminal live album, The Who Live at
My Generation on Live at
The generation thing is also explored in Young Man Blues, another brilliant song from Live at
Although The Who’s first hits, the 1965 I Can’t Explain – which features Jimmy Page as second guitarist – and Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere had not reached the well-rounded sound quality achieved on Tommy, they already revealed Pete Townshend’s promise as a songwriter.
That first album, My Generation, which we were not that familiar with at the time, also included the mod anthem The Kids Are Alright.
Townshend, who battled with his own sexuality early on, did what all great writers have always done, and explored those emotions in his songs. For example I’m A Boy, a single from 1966, was about a young boy dressed as a girl, while Happy Jack was about a mentally disturbed young man. And Pictures Of Lily (1967), I learn from Wikipedia, was a tribute to masturbation (makes sense).
I enjoyed the imagery, emphasised through the music, in the other hit single from 1967, I Can See For Miles (“and miles and miles and miles”), while Magic Bus (1968) as noted earlier, came alive for us on Live At Leeds. It is only now, reading up about these albums, that I realise just how innovative they were.
Tommy had a triple sleeve, which opened out to reveal superb artwork by Mike McInnerney on both sides – with the exterior a kind of hollow, blue laticed world within which Townshend (I think it is) gropes with outstretched hands, while white doves fly out and a hand, encased in stars and floating in space, points at the viewer. Inside is a painting of three sets of lamps, with a hand touching the wall. On the right, more doves fly across a matrix in front of dense foliage. Again, a hand reaches out to touch…
But of course it was the story of deaf, dumb and blind boy Tommy, told through scintillating rock and country-rock, which knocked us off our feet. For me, the key to their success lay in the widespread use of the acoustic guitar. It provides a rich underlying texture to most of the songs, from complex fingerpicking to beautiful chords played either very softly or very powerfully. The bigger sounds of Townshend’s electric guitar and the superb rhythm section provided by Keith Moon on drums and John Entwistle on bass provide the perfect foil for Daltry’s virtuoso vocals, often beautifully complemented by Townshend’s own voice. “Deaf, dumb and blind boy, he’s in a quiet vibration land. / Strange as it seems, his musical dreams, aren’t quite so bad …” “It’s a boy Mrs Walker, it’s a boy – A son! A son…!” “I’m your wicked Uncle Ernie, I’m glad you won’t see or hear me as I fiddle about, fiddle about…” “See me, feel me, touch me, heal me…” All the songs on this album are embedded in my soul. And of course on it also was the very popular Pinball Wizard, which starts with that incredible bit of acoustic guitar work that leads into powerful electric guitar chords, before Daltry starts singing: “Ever since I was a young boy, I’ve played the silver ball / From Soho down the Brighton, I must have played them all / But I ain’t seen nothing like him, in any amusement hall / That deaf, dumb and blind kid, sure plays a mean pinball.”
And if you think I’m exaggerating about how good this album is, consider what was said at the time by Life Magazine: “… for sheer power, invention and brilliance of performance, Tommy outstrips anything which has ever come out of a recording studio”. This, mind you, at a time when a wealth of incredible stuff was indeed coming out of those studios. Meanwhile, Melody Maker, also quoted by Wikipedia, stated: “Surely The Who are now the band against which all others are to be judged.”
Ironically, at the time we never gave a hoot about whether the group was considered good or not. We just dug their music, and listened to it avidly for years on end. And when a plain buff album sleeve arrived, it provided a particularly delightful package. Since we missed out entirely on any live performances by The Who or anyone else (bar a few bands who still dared to tour apartheid South Africa), and never had the benefit of TV, Live At Leeds (1970) offered us an incredible opportunity to get “into” a live concert, and experience something of the vibe. As the band long held the record as the loudest live performers in rock music, it was only natural that we would turn the music right up to listen to these songs, much to our parents’ dismay.
Now that I think of it we did get to see a bit of The Who live when the movie for the 1969 Woodstock Music and Arts Festival arrived in
In their prime
The music reached its apotheosis, for want of a better word, in 1971 (I was in Standard 7, or Grade 9) with the release of Who’s Next, their most successful album, which reached No 1 in the
Consider the quality of songs like Baba O’Riley, Bargain, Love Ain’t For Keepin’, My Wife, The Song is Over, Getting’ In Tune (“with the straight and narrow”), Going Mobile (“keep me groovin’ ”) and that all-time classic, Behind Blue Eyes. Here, again, the band uses the acoustic guitar to superb effect, as it alternates between soft folk-like passages and raw, heavy rock.
For us Playboy-deprived teenagers, Quadrophenia, another rock opera-type album from 1973, offered not only some exciting sounds, but also a sleeve insert of the protagonist Jimmy’s bedroom wall covered in pictures of nude girls – albeit only very small and in black and white. While I never focused much on the storyline, which concerns Jimmy’s struggle for self-esteem against a backdrop of clashes between Mods and Rockers in the early 1960s, I do fondly recall the mood of the album, and distinctly the sound of surging
Indeed, the concept kicks off with I Am The Sea, while other songs include Sea And Sand, and Drowned. 5:15 is a thumping good rock song, but many of the other songs I’ve forgotten. I’d love to hear this album again…
Alas, it was around this time that I gradually lost contact with The Who, while all the time treasuring those early albums, to which I’ll return in more detail later.
I think I completely missed out on The Who by Numbers from 1975, although I did see the Ken Russell-directed movie version of Tommy from that year. It starred Daltrey and earned Townshend an Academy Award for best original score.
Of course for the members of The Who, life went on, and they had to come to terms with the fact that they were no longer top of the pile. In the cut-throat world of public opinion, other acts would inevitably supplant them. But it was two albums from individual members which, for me, kept them going a while longer. Townshend’s The Who Came First (1972) was to my mind as good as most of the stuff done by The Who. And Daltrey did a fine album of covers, called simply Daltrey, with a sleeve which featured a photograph of the vocalist’s head seen from in front and behind, replete with those trademark blond curls.
Who Came First
Reading up on Townshend’s solo career, it is interesting to note how dismissive the fundis are of Who Came First, which showed a white-boiler-suited Townshend standing on a floor made of hen’s eggs. The Wikipedia report says merely that it “included outtakes from the semi-aborted Who concept album Lifehouse as well as homages to his mentor Meher Baba”. Indeed, the piece on Townshend explains how even on Tommy, many of the songs include deeply religious messages based on Baba’s teachings. But back then we cared nothing for this aspect. It was the music alone that counted, and on Who Came First we heard Townshend at his absolute best, sensitive yet able to switch to power rock at a whim.
Pure And Easy was the first song on the album, and it summed up nicely his devotion to music. I loved the transition from the persuasive Let’s See Action, to the more reflective Time Is Passing. But for me the pick of the album was the folky Sheraton Gibson. Accompanied on acoustic guitar, this song enabled him to give full exposure to what was a unique and interesting voice. “I’m sitting in the Sheraton Gibson playing my Gibson / And boy do I feel all alone.”
Having not heard the album in about 30 years, I don’t have immediate recall of the other tracks, but would certainly recognise them were the CD to suddenly land in my lap.
As with so many other bands from the late Sixties, I lost track of Townshend and the Who in the mid-1970s. So I missed out completely on what the pundits argue is probably his best solo album, Empty Glass, from 1980. It is certainly something I’d like to get hold of one day.
For the rest, reading about Townshend’s subsequent career, it is clear he was a consummate artist and also a philanthropist. Having worked through his own problems with drink and drugs, he ended up as a major campaigner in support of institutions which helped people deal with these problems. Also, I discovered that reports that he was bisexual were wrong. He married Karen Astley while still at art school in 1968, but they divorced in 2000. He said he was engaged in a brief same-sex experimentation in the 1960s, but was heterosexual and has a long-time partner in musician Rachel Fuller.
Townshend saw his fair share of tragedy, with Keith Moon dying in 1978 and Entwistle in 2002.
Genesis of The Who
Interestingly, for me, Townshend and Daltrey grew up in a part of west
My connection lies in the fact that for two years, 1990 and 1991, I lived in
How to describe Townshend’s style of music? I think this from the Wikipedia insert is fairly good. They say he “matched an ironic and psychologically astute lyrical sense with crashing, sometimes crude music, a combination that would later come to be known as the hallmark of the band”. Crude, however, is an adjective I not would associate with The Who. Early on, perhaps, but not from the time of Tommy. Indeed, it is the nuanced subtleties of Who Came First which, in the final analysis, stand out for me as the finest of Townshend’s work I have heard. Maybe it’s nostalgia that makes me see this album so benevolently. And then again, having lived right inside the Tommy era, it is very difficult to judge that album objectively. I have it on vinyl and CD, and it remains a masterpiece. The only problem is I know virtually every note that’s about to occur. I’d love to hear it again – but for the first time.
The only Roger Daltrey solo album we got into was Daltrey, from 1973. Giving It All Away, a single from the album, reached No 5 in the
Other great songs include The Way Of The World, It’s A Hard Life, Giving It All Away and When The Music Stops (“think it over”).
Ironically, it was Daltrey who started out as The Who’s lead guitarist, with Colin Dawson on vocals and Townshend on rhythm guitar. When
While he may not have remained the band’s leader and spokesman, on stage Daltrey was the main focus of The Who. Often dressed in a sleeveless waistcoat with long leather tassles, he would swing the microphone around by its cord, adding even more energy to his act. As Wikipedia notes, his “stuttering expression of youthful anger, frustration and arrogance in the band’s breakthrough single, My Generation, captured the revolutionary feeling of the 1960s for many young people around the world and became the band’s trademark. Later, his scream near the end of Won’t Get Fooled Again became a defining moment for the band.”
The Seeker
But, thinking back, there is one single by The Who which really stands out and will remain with me as a treasured musical memory. In The Seeker, from 1970, Townshend launches into the song with harsh, unflinching guitar chords, before Daltrey gives the incredible lyrics his best effort: “I asked Bobby Dylan, I asked the Beatles / I asked Timothy Leary, but he couldn’t help me either / They call me the seeker… / I’m searching low and high”. This song seemed to encapsulate all of the angst of the era while also incorporating the names of some of the very icons who made it such a creative and exciting period. I’ll look at it in more detail later.
Earlier I was about to dismiss some of the later Who albums, but having given a couple of songs a listen on The Ultimate Collection CD, I have to revise my views. There can be no denying that there were some gems on the 1977 Who Are You album, not least the title track. Sister Disco was also a great success. This of course was still the original line-up, recorded shortly before the death of Moon in 1978. Even post-Moon, Face Dances from 1981 was no mean album, and included the lyrically clever You Better You Bet and Don’t Let Go The Coat and Another Tricky Day. While the Towshend magic is still there, I think Moon’s in your face drumming is sadly missed, with the rhythm section perhaps not quite as imposing at it was before. As he said shortly before he died: “I’m still the best Keith Moon-type drummer in the world.” And that type was exceptionally talented.
What a treat it has been to have lived at a time when The Who, one of the great supergroups of all time – despite Towshend being the only songwriter – was at the height of its powers.
Wikipedia says the band were considered “one of the greatest and most influential rock bands of all time”. They were also “possibly the greatest live band ever”. They disbanded in 1983, two albums after Moon’s death in 1978, but reformed several times later. With Entwistle’s death in 2002, Townshend and Daltrey still got together to perform as The Who, bringing out a studio album, Endless Wire, in 2006.
Wikipedia says the band, initially called The Detours, at the outset like many British bands, was “heavily influenced by American blues and country music, initially playing mostly rhythm and blues”. With Moon joining in 1964, they changed their name to The Who, although for a short period that year, under manager Peter Meaden, they became The High Numbers, releasing Zoot Suit/I’m The Face, a single, says Wikipedia, aimed at their Mod fans. The single failed and Meaden got the sack, with the band going back to its former name. We had no real notion of the Mod/Rocker split among the youth of the
Townshend “strove to write challenging and thoughtful music, while Daltrey preferred energetic and macho material”. Ever wondered why Townshend ended up singing certain songs? Well Wikipedia says Daltry would sometimes refuse to sing certain compositions, which meant Townshend had to sing them himself. But it couldn’t have occurred often, because surely the vast majority of Daltry-sung Who songs were Townshend originals.
I Can’t Explain
Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere
Their next hit, Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere was, says Wikipedia, the only song said to be a joint composition by Townshend and Daltrey. Authors Kent and Neill, however, wax lyrical about this song, saying it was more representative of the band’s onstage “sturm und drang”. They say it “thrust the group’s aggressive aura and visual image firmly onto plastic”. The lyric’s “existentialism was inspired by Pete’s love of the free jazz of Charlie Parker, reflected in his guitar’s feedback facsimilies of Morse code bleeps and napalm fire”. They say it was written during a rehearsal at the Marquee Club, with Daltry “toughening up the verses”. It was recorded the same evening, with “session supremo Nicky Hopkins tinkling the ivories”. As he would do on subsequent Who recordings, not to mention many Rolling Stones albums. The band’s co-manager, Kit Lambert, is quoted as saying they had made “a Pop Art record, containing Pop Art music. The sounds of war and chaos and frustration …” Fortunately, this is the second song on that compilation album, so let’s see what all the fuss was about. Well, if Jimmy Page stole the thunder on I Can’t Explain, Townshend certainly does it here – though the song also features virtuoso drumming by Keith Moon, and powerful vocals by Daltrey, who already has that distinctive Who sound taped. It opens with interesting strummed electric guitar. Again, the rest of the band sing the second part of each line in a higher pitch. “I can go anyway, way I choose / I can live anyhow, win or lose / I can go anywhere, for something new / Anyway, anyhow, anywhere I choose.” This seems to be an assertive claim to absolute freedom. “I can do anything, right or wrong / I can talk anyhow, and get along / Don’t care anyway, I never lose / Anyway, anyhow, anywhere I choose.” The macho Daltry comes through in the next verse. “Nothing gets in my way / Not even locked doors / Don’t follow the lines / That been laid before / I get along anyway I dare / Anyway, anyhow, anywhere.” As the song continues,
My Generation
But it was time for their first album, My Generation, which was released in
The album, says Wikipedia, was recorded in April 1965 and from October 11-15 of that year, with Shel Talmy as producer. It is categorised as “hard rock, rock, pop, R&B” by Wikipedia. It was released in the
As with so many other
Phew! Having just given this song a fresh listen, I bet it made the likes of the Beatles and Stones sit up and take notice. This is a thoroughly modern song in that it comes across as an entirely new, original and unique sound, breaking with much of the staidness of R&B. Those opening chords are iconic, with Entwistle’s big booming bass asserting itself instantly. But in the end it is down to Daltry to deliver the message, with the others again singing the harmonies on the second part of each line. “People try to put us d-down (Talkin’ ’bout my generation) / Just because we get around (Talkin ’bout my generation) / Things they do look awful c-c-cold (Talkin’ ’bout my generation) / I hope I die before I get old (Talkin’ ’bout my generation).” Then, making a line in the sand. “This is my generation / This is my generation, baby…” before the immortal, “Why don’t you all f-fade away (Talkin’ ’bout my generation) / And don’t try to dig what we all s-s-say (Talkin’ ’bout my generation) / I’m not trying to cause a big s-s-sensation (Talkin’ ’bout my generation) / I’m just talkin’ ’bout my g-g-g-generation (Talkin’ ’bout my generation).” The stuttered words do not, as might be thought, mark indecision. Instead, I read them as a sign of the passion with which these views were held, but not often expressed. Again, the die having been cast, the rest of the song is a playing with the preceding lyrics, and this give scope for some of the most progressive and aggressive rock probably made hitherto. There are those aforementioned bass solos which really expose the raw beauty of the thick-stringed instrument, some interesting electronic feedback form Townshend’s guitar and a manic drum solo near the heavy, heavy end. Wikipedia says My Generation is a “raw, aggressive number that presaged the heavy metal and punk rock movements”.
The other classic song off this album, The Kids Are Alright, was seen by authors Kent and Neil as “a glorious paean to the band’s
The only other song off this album featured on that compilation CD is A Legal Matter, which authors
I hauled out an old seven-single, from 1966, which contains two more songs from this debut album – and reveals The Who still very much in the mould of the Beatles and possibly also the Byrds. I can’t recall hearing La-La-La-Lies in my youth, but it must have been around. It starts with a flurry of drums, then a fast-paced pop-rock rhythm kicks in, with Daltrey’s vocals sweet and young, with The Who again proving they can do harmonies as well as the Beatles. “If I’m so lost without a friend / Tell me, who’s this by my side? / This girl with eyes like gems / And cool reactions to your lies / Lies / La la la la la la lies.” It is a classic love pop song. “You can’t repeat what you put ’round / All the things that made me cry / You kicked me when I was down / And they hurt me all those lies / Lies / La la la la la la lies.” And so on.
Also from this album is the flip side, The Good’s Gone, which may just have been the A-side. I certainly have some memory of it, especially the chorus, which I heard as “look who’s gone”, when I could simply have read the song’s title to find out what it really was. Much like early Beatles songs, it starts with high-pitched, tinny electric guitar, before the rhythm section heralds the opening lines. “I know when I’ve had enough / When I think your love is rough.” Then the chorus. “The good’s gone / The good’s gone / The good’s gone / The good’s gone / The good’s gone out of our love / I know it’s wrong / We should enjoy it, but / The good’s gone / The good’s gone.” It is interesting that they should be singing about guilt associations with love on a pop song. “Once we used to get along / Now, each time we kiss, it’s wrong.” The final chorus ends with the line, “It’s gone forever”, which is a rather downbeat sentiment for a pop hit.
Anyway, it was good news for the band, with this debut album reaching No 5 in the
I’m A Boy
Questions about his sexuality, which would plague Townshend, had their genesis, probably, in the 1966 single, I’m A Boy, which fortunately is on that Ultimate Collection double-CD. Authors Kent and Neil note in the sleeve notes that this was part of “an ambitious song cycle called Quads, set in the year 2000, where parents can select the sex of their children”. They quote Townshend as saying that the mother orders four girls “and one of them turns out to be a boy, so she pretends it’s a girl … horrifying!” They say the song was “perhaps the first pop song to address transvestitism” and, while nearly reaching No 1, “was instrumental in pointing the way forward to a more ambitious, cerebral approach”. Having just listened to this track, I was struck be just how “Tommy-like” it sounded. The trademark Who harmonies are in place, and Townshend juxtaposes his gentle vocals, which open the song, with the more macho Daltrey sound. The strummed chords and drum/bass build-ups which characterise Tommy are all to be found here in nascent form. Again, here was a song where guys living in the 1960s were projecting to a distant, scifi-type future, and so often the year 2000 marked that era. What they didn’t foresee is that 2000 would mark the real take-off of the digital era, with the Internet such a dominant feature. Anyway, let’s see how Townshend explored his theme. “One girl was called Jean Marie / Another little girl was called Felicity / Another little girl was Sally Joy / The other was me, and I’m a boy.” Of course the child blames himself for being the “wrong” sex. “My name is Bill and I’m a headcase / They practice making up on my face / Yeah, I feel lucky if I get trousers to wear / Spend ages taking hairpins from my hair.” The chorus could have come out of Tommy. “I’m a boy, I’m a boy / But my ma won’t admit it / I’m a boy, I’m a boy / But if I say I am I get it.” It makes you wonder about all those boys who, under the baleful influence of strong mothers, had their sexuality fouled up as children, never fully to regain it. “Put your frock on Jean Marie / Plait your hair Felicity / Paint your nails, little Sally Joy / Put this wig on, little boy.” I enjoy Townshend’s creativity. After the chorus, Bill tries to assert his difference. “I wanna play cricket on the green / Ride my bike across the street / Cut myself and see my blood / I wanna come home all covered in mud.” The final chorus ends with his insisting “I’m a boy, I’m a boy / But my ma won’t admit it / I’m a boy, I’m a boy, I’m a boy / I’m a boy …”
Substitute
But I’m jumping the gun, because the authors Kent and Neil note that after My Generation, The Who had broken their contract with original producer Shel Taimy, and released the self-produced Substitute single, which I recall as a major hit at the time. They say it has Townshend’s “cleverest lyrics to date, melded to a memorable, acoustic 12-string riff, and a Motown-style bounce in the verses”. It gave them another Top 5 hit and became “another of their most durable anthems – being covered by The Sex Pistols amongst others”. It was probably only on Live at Leeds that we really got into this, but I have to think it was also a much-loved single before then. “You think we look pretty good together / You think my shoes are made of leather.” This self-deprecation, and indeed, self-abuse in the face of possible romance is possibly true of many sensitive, tentative teens. As the chorus notes, she may think he’s great, “But I’m a substitute for another guy / I look pretty tall but my heels are high / The simple things you see are all complicated / I look pretty young, but I’m just back-dated, yeah.” This, of course, really tears along on Live at
Happy Jack
Another single which explored a “taboo” subject was Happy Jack, about a mentally disturbed young man, also from 1966. Authurs Kent and Neil don’t make a similar reference in their notes, saying only that the song is informed by Townshend’s experiences as a young child watching “his father play with The Squadronaires on the
Pictures of Lily
As noted earlier, the Who had a hit in 1967 with a single called Pictures Of Lily, which dealt with the horny problem of teenage sexuality and was, says Wikipedia, “a tribute to masturbation”. And to think his dad helped him out…. “I used to wake up in the morning / I used to feel so bad / I got so sick of having sleepless nights / I went and told my dad.” And his dad did what ours never did. “He said, ‘Son now here’s some little something’ / And stuck them on my wall / And now my nights ain’t quite so lonely / In fact I, I don’t feel bad at all.” I’ve not heard this song, as far as I can recall, but I’m sure we would have enjoyed it. Maybe it was banned in SA. “Pictures of Lily made my life so wonderful / Pictures of Lily helped me sleep at night / Pitcures of Lily solved my childhood problems / Pictures of Lily helped me feel alright.” He becomes almost euphoric. “Pictures of Lily / Lily, oh Lily / Lily, oh Lily / Pictures of Lily.” And then he becomes obsessed. “And then one day things weren’t quite so fine / I fell in love with Lily / I asked my dad where Lily I could find / He said, ‘Son, now don’t be silly’ / ‘She`s been dead since 1929’ / Oh, how I cried that night / If only I’d been born in Lily’s time / It would have been alright.” He concludes: “For me and Lily are together in my dreams / And I ask you, ‘Hey mister, have you ever seen’ / ‘Pictures of Lily?’” Kent and Neil, in their clever notes, say the song “took the topic of masturbation firmly in hand, resulting in another glorious piece of pure pop … and the group’s seventh Top 10 hit in Britain”.
I Can See For Miles
Another single from this pre-Tommy era I recall well is I Can See For Miles, a single which was definitely doing the rounds at the time. Kent and Neil note that the backing track for this song was cut in
Magic Bus
Another hit from this period is Magic Bus which, as observed earlier, we really only got into in a big way on Live at
A Quick One
But let’s get back to the Who’s album aspirations, and in particular Townshend’s desire to create albums “as unified works, rather than collections of unconnected songs”, as Wikipedia puts it. The first sign of this came with their second album, A Quick One (1966) which, says Wikipedia, included “the storytelling medley A Quick One While He’s Away, which they later referred to as a ‘mini opera’.
This album we did not have. It has a cartoon-type drawing of the four in a red rectangle against a larger black background, with the necks of guitars and the onomatopoeic sounds of their instruments projecting across the black.
Recorded between September and November 1966 and released on December 9 of that year, the album was produced by Kit Lambert. Wikipedia says
The album was, says Wikipedia, seen as “pivotal” for the group “due to the departure from the R&B/pop formula featured on the band’s first release”. It is the least Townshend-dominated of the Who albums as each band member was required to write at least two songs, though Daltrey only wrote one. The nine-minute suite, A Quick One, While He’s Away, says Wikipedia, tells “a story of infidelity and reconciliation”, and was a forerunner to rock operas Tommy and Quadrophenia. Wikipedia adds that the album was seen as “pop music” as a “sonic participant in the pop art movement”, with the cover designed by pop artist Alan Aldridge. And it was critically acclaimed, ranking No 383 in that 2003 Rolling Stone magazine list of the 500 greatest albums of all time.
Despite the attempt to spread the songwriting load, Townshend still rules the roost. While he only has one track on Side 1 – Run Run Run – on Side 2 he has three of the four – Don’t Look Away, So Sad About Us and the mini rock opera, which runs to 9:10 minutes. Despite its acclaim, only one song off this album is featured on that Ultimate Collection compilation, Entwistle’s Boris The Spider. The other tracks on Side 1 are Moon’s I Need You and Cobwebs And Strange, another Entwistle track, Whiskey Man, and a non-Who composition, Heat Wave. Daltrey’s composition, See My Way, is on Side 2. Unfortunately, I have no way of hearing the bulk of this album, which is given high praise by the Wikipedia writers. The one track on that compilation, Boris The Spider, is indeed a bit of frivolous fun. It is an entirely bass-guitar led melody of descending notes, and reads a bit like a nursery rhyme. “Look, he’s crawling up my wall / Black and hairy, very small / Now he’s up above my head / Hanging by a little thread.” Then the famous gravelly voiced chorus: “Boris the spider / Boris the spider.” Having grown up with
Wikipedia says So Sad About Us, a Townshend composition, was a “particularly notable track” on the album. Arguably one of the album’s most covered songs, it is seen as “one of the early forebears of the power pop genre”. However, Wikipedia says the album’s engineering produced a “mushy sound that went unmitigated even by the remastered CD release”. The album reached No 4 in the
The Who Sell Out
Another musical character from our father’s generation, Stan Freberg, springs to mind when discussing the Who’s next album, The Who Sell Out (1967), “a concept album which played like an offshore radio station, complete with humorous jingles and commercials”, says Wikipedia. As noted earlier (see Raised On Records, my blog posting from November 2008), Freberg was vehemently opposed to advertising on radio and often parodied it. But this album also featured their biggest US hit single, I Can See For Miles, and another “mini rock opera, called Rael”.
I have just read a lengthy eulogy on The Who Sell Out by Dave Marsh, who wrote the sleeve notes for the CD release. He seems to think it is a very important album, for various reasons which I’ll address later. But let’s first see what the more objective Wikipedia has to say.
Recorded between May and November, 1967, the album was released on December 15, 1967. It was not one we were familiar with, though I Can See For Miles was definitely popular at the time in sunny SA. Classified as “rock, psychedelic rock, pop”, the original album was 37:23 minutes long, but the CD is considerably longer.
Wikipedia calls it a “concept album, formatted as a collection of unrelated songs interspersed with faux commercials and public service announcements”. It says the album “purports to be a broadcast by pirate radio station Radio London. Part of the intended irony of the title was that The Who were actually making commercials during that period of their career, some of which are included as bonus tracks on the remastered CD”.
And after its release, lawsuits flowed as “real-world commercial interests” objected to being mentioned in the faux commercials. In 2003, incredibly, the album was ranked No 113 on that Rolling Stone magazine list of the 500 greatest albums. It reached No 13 in the
I have to admit total ignorance of this album before a friend gave me the CD a few years ago. The cover captures the pop art theme. Featuring photographs by David Montgomery, it shows Townshend applying Odorono deodorant and Daltrey sitting in a bathtub full of Heinz baked beans. On the back, Moon applies Medac from an oversized tube, and Entwistle in a Tarzan suit hugs a blonde woman and a teddy bear in an ad for the Charles Atlas course mentioned in one of the faux ads.
Wikipedia quotes Dave Marsh (the rock critic who did the sleeve notes for the CD) as saying that this album was the “first ever to not list the song titles on its cover”. However, Wikipedia says Moby Grape’s eponymous album of six months earlier was the first.
As noted earlier, Sell Out was not part of my upbringing. But, having just given it a listen, I have to concede it is a very important, and enjoyable, Who album, which clearly pointed the way to Tommy. Indeed, on several tracks, there are definite tune overlaps. Indeed, even in the hit I Can See For Miles, referred to earlier, the opening chords are very similar to those heard on Underture.
I did find the commercials between songs a trifle irritating. Funny the first time, sure, but eventually you want to enjoy the album for its many fine tracks, and the gimmicks do tend at times to overshadow these. That said, I’m sure those who did indeed grow up with this album would argue, as I have with other groups and albums, that this somewhat eccentric idea was part of the Who’s history and should be appreciated as such.
Certainly, Dave Marsh, in his sleeve notes on the CD version is lavish indeed in his praise, saying the album is “the greatest rock and roll album of its era” and “The Who’s consummate masterpiece”.
He says it is “the most fun of any Who album, and the one whose spirit is most tightly linked to the glorious pop insanity that psychedlia and its aftermath destroyed forever”.
He adds, no doubt controversially, that it “improves upon (the Beatles’) Sgt Pepper’s by refusing to succumb to psychedelic whimsy …” He says the album explores a “great romance” between young people and their transistor radios in the 1950s and 1960s, “and the radio stations that broadcast not only the greatest hit singles that the world has ever heard … but also the sum and substance of a way of life”.
And this lifestyle was “not the burgeoning hippie counter-culture lifestyle that made headlines in the summer of 1967”. Instead Who managers Kit Lambert and Chris Stamp “came up with the idea of unifying the band’s next album by making it sound like a British pirate or American Top 40 radio station. So Sell Out celebrates the lifestyle that the hippie counter-culture destroyed – the frenzied materialist, frantically silly, profoundly superficial …, boldly consumerist lifestyle of the Mods and whatever American counterpart they had”.
While not the whimsical psychedelia of Sgt Pepper’s, Marsh says Sell Out is “by far the most psychedelic of the Who’s albums”, as it moved away from hard R&B and Anglopop.
The first time I listened to this album I was disappointed. But after trying again, I found it contained some real gems. It opens with an echoing “Radio London” listing the days of the week, before the first song, Armenia City In The Sky, written by one John Keene. As with most of these tracks, the vocals are often shared between Townshend and Daltrey. This is a great heavy rock song, with some interesting feedback on the guitar, and apparent surges of sound such as occur on shortwave radio. “If you’re troubled and you can’t relax / Close your eyes and think of this / If the rumours floating in your head all turn to facts / Close your eyes and think of this.” The chorus was familiar. “
Then comes a jingle. “It’ smooth sailing with the highly successful sound / Of wonderful Radio London!” Next is Entwistle’s Heniz Baked Beans, just under a minute’s worth of fun. It starts with “One, two, three, four!” and a plucky brass band, between which various voices ask: “What’ for tea, Mum? / What’ for tea, darling? / Darling, I said ‘what’s for tea?’/ What’s for tea, daughter?” And the answer, of course, is “Heinz baked beans.” Tea, here, is meant in the
Mary Anne With The Shaky Hand, a Townshend composition, continues a masturbation theme started with Pictures Of Lily, says Marsh. This is a Townshend classic, with some superb acoustic guitar and accompanying percussion, not to mention superb vocal harmonies. “I danced with Linda / I danced with Jean / I danced with Cindy / Then I suddenly see.” Yes, the chorus tells us he sees “Mary-Anne with the shaky hands / What they’ve done to her man / Those shaky hands.” Now if my reading of this is right, then perhaps this is not so much self-masturbation, but that Mary-Anne helped others out with that shaky hand… “Mary is so pretty / The prettiest in the land / Guys come from every city / Just to shake her shaky hands.” And so, “Linda can cook / Jean reads books / Cindy can sew / But I’d rather know… Mary-Anne with the shaky hands / What they’ve done to her man / Those shaky hands.” It’s certainly better in the context of the song, with even the vocals becoming somewhat shaky towards the end.
There were hints on Odorono of the Sally Simpson song on Tommy, with the vocals again superb – Townshend, I think it is, leading but ably supported by the others. You can see Townshend’s stamp on the written words. “She sang the best she’d ever sang / She couldn’t ever sing any better / But Mister Davidson never rang / She knew he would
forget her.” He has the ability to put his characters in extremely vulnerable positions. “She’d seen him there / And put herself to ransom / He had stared / He really was quite handsome.” The introspection continues. “She had really looked her best / She couldn’t ever look any better / But she knew she’d failed the test / She knew he would forget her.” This time it’s not Sally trying to touch Tommy, but the stage scenario is similar. “Triumphant was the way she felt / As she acknowledged the applause / Triumphant was the way she’d felt / When she saw him at the dressing room door.” The tale continues as he praises and then leans to kiss her face, only to withdraw, claiming a late appointment. “She ripped her glittering gown / Couldn’t face another show, no / Her deodorant had let her down / She should have used Odorono.” Then the full advert: “Odorono could have saved your day / Could have helped her to get the part / Odorono and he would have stay / To help her to save her heart.” Whatever Marsh says, I feel that this song is in fact ruined by this trite bit of faux advertising. I know its aim is to fit into the album’s theme, but for Townshend it must have been galling. Small wonder he took some of his best melodies from this album and worked them into a real rock opera a year later.
Another fine Townshend song follows, called Tattoo, and hopefully it too doesn’t pander to the pre-ordained advertising template. With Daltrey leading the vocals – at least so it sounds – this is again marked by amazing harmonising and acoustic guitar strumming. There is also some clever wordplay, if my ears weren’t deceiving me. “Me and my brother were talking to each other / ’Bout what makes a man a man / Was it brain or brawn, or the month you were born, / We just couldn’t understand.” It is all, of course, pretty tongue in cheek. “Our old man didn’t like our appearance / He said that only women wear long hair / So me and my brother borrowed money from Mother / We knew what we had to do / We went downstairs, past the barber and gymnasium / And got our arms tattooed.” He then sings to his tattoo. “Welcome to my life, tattoo / I’m a man now, thanks to you / I expect I’ll regret you / But the skin graft man won’t get you / You’ll be there when I die / Tattoo.” And so to the repurcussions. “My dad beat me ’cause mine said ‘Mother’ / But my mother naturally liked it and beat my brother / ’Cause his tattoo was of a lady in the nude / And my mother thought that was extremely rude.” After the chorus, he reflects later. “Now I’m older, I’m tattooed all over / My wife is tattooed too / A rooty-toot-toot, A rooty-tooty-toot-toot / Rooty-toot-toot tattoo too / To you.”
After another “Radio London” jingle, another Townsend original, Our Love Was which again, need I say it, features beautiful harmonies, some superb bass and even a solid lead guitar solo. “Our love was …. / Our love was famine, frustration / We only acted out an imitation / Of what real love should have been / Then suddenly ...” Townshend was a born lyricist. “Our love was flying / Our love was soaring / Our love was shining / Like a summer morning.” All this is effortlessly woven into a superb, crisp rock song. “Flying, soaring / Shining morning / Never leaving / Lying, dying.” Then three verses each of four lines and containing the words: “Love love love long”, before the opening verses are repeated, but repeated in a way which makes one feel the song absolutely requires the repetition in order to be a finished product.
After a Rotosound Strings “ad”, the first side ends on a high note with the incredible I Can See For Miles, which I looked at earlier. What is remarkable is that the opening bars of the song are almost exact replicas of chords on Tommy’s Underture.
Before continuing, I must just reflect on Dave Marsh’s description of The Who on this album’s CD sleeve notes. He says it contains “elements typical of the band: the constant wash of Moon’s cymbals and his equally relentless tom-toms, Entwistle’s explosive grunge-prophesying basswork, and Townshend’s guitar power-chording”. He also points to their “Beach Boys-style vocal harmony” and says the album helped define Daltrey’s singing role, especially on I Can See For Miles”.
Side 2 starts with a take-off of the Charles Atlas body-building adverts. “The Charles Atlas course with dynamic tension / Can turn you into... a beast of a man.” No-one hearing this can escape thinking about The Rocky Horror Picture Show, in which great play is also made of Atlas and dynamic tension.
Then another Townshend original, I Can’t Reach you, in which the song’s construction again seems to prefigure sections of Tommy. “I’m a billion ages past you / A million years behind you too / A thousand miles up in the air / A trillion times I’ve seen you there.” How better to express the hurly-burly of being in love? “Your hair is golden, mine is grey / You walk on grass, it turns to hay / Your blood is blue and your eyes are red / My body strains, but the nerves are dead.” Strained, too, seems to be that rhyme between red and dead. Anyway, the song continues, “I can’t reach you / I’ve strained my eyes / I can’t reach you / I’ve split my sides / I can’t reach / Tryin’ to get on you / See, feel or hear from you.” Ah, yes, there is that Tommy reference, as the senses come into play. Then he concedes defeat. “The distances grow greater now / You drink champagne and past me plow / You fly your plane right over my head / You’re still alive and I’m nearly dead.” The chorus emphasises this desperate desire for sensory satisfaction. “I can’t reach you / With arms outstretched / I can’t reach you / I crane my neck / I can’t reach / Tryin’ to get on you / See, feel or hear from you.” A final verse sees him come close, only for failure to strike. “Once I caught a glimpse / Of your unguarded, untouched heart / Our fingertips touched and then / My mind tore us apart.”
Then, having dealt with BO, Medac, a John Entwistle song, tackles the tricky question of acne, the scourge of most teenagers’ lives – almost as if God sends this plague onto their beautiful skin to stop them appearing too handsome, too young, thus obviating some dangerous liaisons which could either see them end up with a sexually transmitted disease (including the killer Aids), or get a fellow kid in the family way. This is just under a minute of advertorial fun. “Henry Pond had no fun / Had a face like a currant bun / This adolescent little fella / Was nicknamed by his friends ‘Old Yella’.” The tale continues: “The doctors gave him creams and lotions / To try to sooth the boy’s emotions / But all in vain; the acne stayed / Henry’s hopes began to fade.” Next verse: “Then, when just about to crack / He found another cream – Medac.” And so finally, “When Henry in the mirror peered / His pimples all had disappeared / Henry laughed and yelled ‘I got ’em! / Me face is like a baby’s bottom’.”
It takes Townshend to return us to a higher plane with the slow rock song, Relax, which, with strummed acoustic guitar and those great vocal harmonies, has a musical texture the likes of which only the Who could achieve. “Relax and settle down / Let your mind go ’round / Lay down on the ground / And listen to the sound / Of the band / Hold my hand.” While not as overtly coarse as the Stones, even Townshend let the sexual imagery get a bit out of hand, at times. “Open up your mind / We’ll love right where we lie / I’ll know you from inside / You’re like a horse I’ll ride / O’er the sand / Through the land.” Then the chorus. “Relax and let your mind roll on / Over all your problems / Relax and let your mind roll on / Over all your problems.” The relaxed mood of the album is, in a sense, summed up in this song, Relax. “We try harder and harder, tryin’ to get our way / But it’s a long, long wait until Judgment Day / So settle your affairs and take your time / ’Cause everything in the world is yours and mine / Yours and mine.” After repeating the first verse, the song ends with the injunction, “Relax!”
Next up is an ad for Rotosound Strings – Hold Your Group Together With Rotosound Strings! – before the amusing Silas Stingy, an Entwistle song which also, however, may be construed as having anti-Semitic overtures. Acoustic guitarwork gives this a folk-rock feel, with the customary great harmonies. Entwistle seems to do the lead vocals on this very tight track, with Moon’s drumming again superb. It was my 15-year-old son who asked me if this was about a Jewish man… “Once upon a time there lived an old miser man / By the name of Silas stingy / He carried all his money in a little black box / Which was heavy as a rock / With a big padlock / All the little kids would shout / When Silas was about.” That’s a mean dose of prejudice. Indeed, Marsh notes that the song has “a strong hint of Uncle Ernie to come”, which again emphasises what an important stepping stone this album was.
There is a folk-like whimsy about
But this album really seems to be about the final track, Rael, which Wikipedia calls “an excerpt from one of Townshend’s early attempts at rock opera”. It says the plot seems to be about a heroic Captain who is betrayed by his crew during a clandestine bid to save Rael from an invasion by the Red chins. It notes that the “dramatic instrumental section in the second half of the song shows up as a dreamy sequence in both
This is a daunting CD to review, especially since it was not part of my upbringing and is thus, unlike most of the other stuff I’ve looked at, unfamiliar. Then, of course, the CD version contains a further seven bonus tracks, each of them substantial works, along with a few more ads. These songs were, says Marsh, all created at the same time and would have been included in the original had CD technology been available.
Features on this side include Hall Of The Mountain King, an instrumental in the early Pink Floyd mode whose theme is borrowed from Greig’s Peer Gynt Suite. Marsh describes it as “equal parts classical send-up and snickering anticipation of King Crimson”. He adds that there is a “dense, smouldering tension in the interplay between Townshend and Entwistle that gives this music more sustained explosiveness than the group had ever shown before, closer to its live attack on the acid-rock ballroom and festival circuit”. This guitar-bass dueling also suggests Underture.
Also among the bonus tracks is Glow Girl, another Townshend classic which would be released on the album Odds And Sods in 1974. And of course it too has a Tommy allusion, with the closing line, “It’s a girl, Mrs Walker…”
And, if you continue listening, you’re reminded that this is a radio spoof, as the words “Track Records” are repeated until they fade away.
Thanks, John Harvey, for letting me have this album. It has been a challenge for an old dog like me to take on a new album of this depth a mere 40 years after its release.
Tommy
And so to Tommy. As noted earlier, this for us was an iconic album, a lodestar in our lives. Released in 1969, it was part of my entire high school career (for want of a better word) from 1970 to 1975, and probably even after that. The album was recorded between September 19, 1968, and March 7, 1969, and released on May 23, 1969. A double album it runs to 74 minutes. Kit Lambert produced it for Polydor (UK).
Their fourth album, Wikipedia describes it as telling “a loose story about a ‘deaf, dumb and blind boy’ who becomes the leader of a messianic movement”. It adds, noting that citation is needed, that this was the “first musical work to be billed as a rock opera”. It was meant, says Wikipedia, to express how its main composer, Pete Townshend, felt “after being taught by Meher Baba and other writings and expressing the enlightenment he believes he received”. It quotes him as saying it is “a metaphorical story of different states of consciousness”. Which is quite a heavy concept that completely passed us by at the time. Indeed, if I saw it as a metaphor for anything, it was for the biblical story of Jesus Christ, or indeed for any supposedly messianic figure who is somehow able to garner a massive following.
Wikipedia even includes a list of the main characters, which might help me to discover more. It was only on my latest listening to this that I put many of the pieces together, until I became aware that indeed, Tommy was Tommy Walker, son of Captain and Mrs Walker. Then there is an Uncle Frank, who is the romantic partner of Mrs Walker, and Uncle Ernie, Tommy’s “wicked uncle, who is a paedophile. His Cousin Kevin is the “school bully”, while The Hawker leads a cult religion, where Mrs Walker takes Tommy in the hopes of a cure for his affliction. There is a Local Lad who is the reigning pinball champion whom Tommy defeats to become the “Pinball Wizard”. The Acid Queen (or Gypsy) is a prostitute who deals in hallucinogenic substances and tries to heal Tommy, while The Doctor also tries to heal him and finds his disabilities are psychological. Finally, Sally Simpson is one of his “disciples”.
I’ve just hauled out my vinyl copy of Tommy, bought for about R10 at my second-hand record shop. And, as I opened out the three-section cover, I experienced a brief sense of déjà vu. It is almost impossible, now, to explain what it was like, as a teenager, to be confronted with these records, with their large covers featuring up-to-the-minute artwork. All this has been lost in the CD era, where covers that are little larger than mail envelopes (remember them?) leave little scope for decent design work.
But of course it was all about what was on those vinyl discs. While the surfaces of these two discs are somewhat worn, I do have a CD version which, no matter what the critics say, does afford one an absolutely crisp, clear, if somewhat sanitised, version of the original. And what an experience listening to this album was! As teenagers, we would have shoved it on, but not necessarily always been patient enough to listen right through. But we heard it so often it seeped into our very veins. Anyway, now, nearly 40 years on, the album retains all the magic of when I first heard it. The combination of acoustic guitar, beautiful vocals, bold electric guitar and bass chords, and Keith Moon’s unique drumming technique alone could have turned even an ordinary song into something worth listening to. But these were exceptional songs, masterpieces of composition which will, I’m convinced, be recognised as being key elements in the evolution of music in the 20th century.
I mean, there we were, around 1970 – I was about 14 – listening to what? An overture! Sure, we would later dabble in classical music (especially after Anthony Burgess’s A Clockwork Orange made it cool to do so), but what was this? Arguably the first “rock opera”, there was fortunately none of the staid, conservative codders one associates with the term opera. Nah, this was rock music, rock songs, which told a story. It is surely no coincidence that Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Jesus Christ Superstar, also a rock opera, was released a year after Tommy, in 1970. The Who had shown what was possible.
So there we were, confronted on that opening track, titled Overture, with a crisp 3:50-minute synopsis of the musical goodies to come. It was awesome, to coin a contemporary cliché – those first big, opening chords, the energetically strummed acoustic guitar, the big lead guitar chords, the bass melodies and omnipresent drums; the almost classical choral sounds, an organ that powers things along. This was a tantalising foretaste of what was to come. And of course the whole thing is one long, integrated whole. So the Overture leads straight into It’s A Boy, which features an incredible piece of virtuoso acoustic guitarwork. Okay, so we didn’t know it was “a narrator” who sang the opening lines, but we knew them off by heart: “Captain Walker didn’t come home. / His unborn child will never ever know him. / We believe him missing with a number of men, / Don’t expect to see him again.” After some sustained guitar pyrotechnics, a nurse sings: “It’s a boy Mrs Walker, it’s a boy. / It’s a boy Mrs Walker, it’s a boy.” Then a chorus, like the arrival of a messiah, sings with elation, “A son! A son! A son!”, as that frenetic strummed guitar and accompanying rhythm section add the necessary buttressing.
Wikipedia explains, if that is needed, that Walker, a British Army captain, is reported missing in action during the First World War, with Mrs Walker giving birth to her son, Tommy, soon afterwards. In the film version, which I haven’t seen for several decades,
Big, chunky bass notes and piano, along with Townshend’s distinctive strummed electric guitar chords introduce the next track, 1921. I don’t recall ever looking at the song titles, and always assumed “21” being a good year was about someone who was that old. It dawned on me later they were referring to 1921. And finally, from Wikipedia, I discover just what happened on that fateful day, four years later when Capt Walker, who hadn’t died, returned home. He discovers, says Wikipeida, “that his wife has found a new lover”. So let’s see if that was clear in the lyrics. In my defence, I must note that at the time we weren’t interested in deciphering what the album was about. The details were not important. It was the overall rock music construction that excited us, and we got the general gist. But how great finally to uncover the real story. So, according to one lyric site, the Lover starts by singing: “Got a feeling ’21 / Is going to be a good year, / Especially if you and me / See it in together.” He seems to be speaking to Mrs Walker, but then the Father (Mr Walker) interjects: “So you think ’21 / Is going to be a good year? / It could be good for me and her, / But you and her – no, never!” He then seems to turn to his wife, and continues: “I had no reason to be over optimistic, / But somehow, when you smiled / I could brave bad weather...” I think we can be forgiven for not getting that. But it gets trickier, because the Mother then sings: “What about the boy? / What about the boy? / What about the boy? / He saw it all!” Then Mother & Father sing: “You didn’t hear it. / You didn’t see it. / You won’t say nothing to no-one / Ever in your life. / You never heard it. / Oh, how absurd it all seems / Without any proof. / You didn’t hear it. / You didn’t see it. / You never heard it - not a word of it! / You won’t say nothing to no-one, / Never tell a soul / What you know is the Truth.” Looking at that, I’d imagine the Lover has been murdered and a traumatised Tommy, who saw it happen, is being threatened to keep quiet. Wikipedia says that Captain Walker “confronts the two and kills the lover. Tommy witnesses this through his mirror.” Why “through his mirror”, I can’t work out, unless he was looking in a mirror at the time. Then his parents attempt to cover it up, telling Tommy he neither saw nor heard it, and threatening him not to tell a soul. As a result “a traumatised Tommy becomes deaf, dumb, and blind”. The film version, says Wikipedia, twists this around, and has the Lover kill Capt Walker. The song concludes with Capt Walker repeating the opening verse about it being a good year if he and Mrs Walker “see it in together” – was it New Year’s Eve? – but she concludes the song with the sobering question: “What about the boy?...”
I never could work out what made that whizzing, whistling sound at the opening of the next track, Amazing Journey. It must be done on a synthesizer, and is maintained throughout a song which includes some weird guitar sounds. But it is the big Who sound, with mega-chords dominating, that provide the launching pad for Daltrey’s sublime vocals. “Deaf dumb and blind boy / He’s in a quiet vibration land / Strange as it seems his musical dreams / Ain’t quite so bad.” I heard that, all those years ago, but not the second verse. “Ten years old / With thoughts as bold as thought can be / Loving life and becoming wise / In simplicity.” As the spooky electronic sound effects whine, the chorus takes us into Tommy’s sorry state. “Sickness will surely take the mind / Where minds can’t usually go. / Come on the amazing journey / And learn all you should know.” Here, again, I did not fully grasp what was being sung. “A vague haze of delirium / creeps up on me. / All at once a tall stranger I suddenly see. / He’s dressed in a silver sparked / Glittering gown / And His golden beard flows / Nearly down to the ground.” There is a Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, or even biblical quality to this spectre. And there is a real beauty in Townshend’s writing. “Nothing to say and nothing to hear / And nothing to see. / Each sensation makes a note in my symphony.” The wailing continues as the chorus is repeated, before more light is cast on this creature. “His eyes are the eyes that / Transmit all they know. / Sparkle warm crystalline glances to show / That he is your leader / And he is your guide / On the amazing journey together you’ll ride.” This then leads into another superb instrumental section,
The next song, The Hawker, was written by one Sonny Boy Williamson, and it does have a very different – yet complementary – quality to it. More jazzy, with heavy drum beats, it sees Daltrey giving full rein to his lyrics, while Townshend also fits a lead guitar solo into this tightly crafted track. “You talk about your woman / I wish you could see mine, / You talk about your woman / I wish you could see mine, / Every time she starts to lovin’ / She brings eyesight to the blind.” Although not written by Townshend, it still fits the narrative, with Wikipedia saying that Tommy’s parents then take him to a church of a cult religion to try to cure him, and that this is the cult leader’s song. “You know her daddy gave her magic / I can tell by the way she walks. / You know her daddy gave her magic / I can tell by the way she walks. / Every time she starts to shake it / The dumb begin to talk.” Then he holds out hope for young Tommy. “She’s got the power to heal you never fear / She’s got the power to heal you never fear / Just a word from her lips / And the deaf begin to hear.”
Side 2 of this double album starts with a song which I loved, especially coming up to Christmas, at a time when we were still young enough to get excited about the prospect of a few parcels under a fir tree in the lounge. Bold drumming, great harmonising, and superb acoustic guitarwork mark this superb song. The Father opens by singing: “Did you ever see the faces of the children / They get so excited. / Waking up on Christmas morning / Hours before the winter sun’s ignited. / They believe in dreams and all they mean / Including heaven’s generosity. / Peeping round the door / to see what parcels are for free / In curiosity.” But his son is oblivious not only of the secular side, but also obviously of the religious relevance of the event. “And Tommy doesn’t know what day it is. / He doesn’t know who Jesus was or what praying is. / How can he be saved? / From the eternal grave.” He gets more and more anxious: “Surrounded by his friends he sits so silently, / And unaware of everything. / Playing poxy pin ball / picks his nose and smiles and / Pokes his tongue at everything. / I believe in love / but how can men who’ve never seen / Light be enlightened. / Only if he’s cured / will his spirit’s future level ever / heighten.” After repeating the chorus, he confronts Tommy, as the drum beats resound: “Tommy can you hear me? / Tommy can you hear me? / Tommy can you hear me? / Tommy can you hear me? / Tommy can you hear me? / Can you hear me? / How can he be saved?”
Then, probably only audible to the listener and himself, Tommy replies with words which have become legend. “See me, feel me / Touch me, heal me. / See me, feel me / Touch me, heal me!” It is a silent cry for help, but the father merely responds by again asking if Tommy can hear him, and posing the rhetorical question of “how can he be saved”. He concludes by repeating the opening verse, and the chorus which foresees an “eternal grave” for his son – with guilt no doubt eating away at him as having caused this to come about.
The next track, Cousin Kevin, is the first Entwistle composition. It is a shocking story of child abuse as, Wikipedia notes, Tommy’s parents leave him with his cousin, who “takes the opportunity to bully and torture Tommy without fear of anyone finding out. He ultimately gets bored with Tommy’s limited reactions”. Plucked guitar and drums set the vocals in train. “We’re on our own cousin, / all alone cousin. / Let’s think of a game to play / Now the grownups have all gone away. / You won’t be much fun / being blind deaf and dumb / But I’ve no one to play with today. / D’you know how to play hide and seek? / To find me it would take you a week, / But tied to that chair you won’t go anywhere / There’s a lot I can do with a freak.” Then, half jokingly, he speculates on what he could do to him. “How would you feel if I turned on the bath, / Ducked your head under and started to laugh. / What would you do if I shut you outside, / To stand in the rain
and catch cold so you died?” Acoustic and electric guitars work in tandem with drums and cymbals as the tension ratchets up. “I’m the school bully! / The classroom cheat. / The nastiest playfriend, / You ever could meet. / I’ll stick pins in your fingers / And tread on your feet...” He let’s his vivid thoughts flow: “Maybe a cigarette burn on your arm / Would change your expression to one of alarm, / I’ll drag you around by a lock of your hair / Or give you a push at the top of the stairs...” After again boasting about being the school bully, he concludes that “I'll put glass in your dinner / And spikes in your seat...”
Tommy clearly needs help, and it is to The Acid Queen of the next track that his parents take him next. Wikipedia says she “tries to coach him into full consciousness with hallucinogenic drugs”. It is another Townshend masterpiece, featuring a typical lead guitar and bass duel and vocals that I believe helped inspire Jesus Christ Superstar. The song starts with the Gypsy saying: “If your child ain’t all he should be now / This girl could put him right. / I’ll show him what he could be now / Just give me one night. / I’m the Gypsy - the acid queen. / Pay before we start. / I’m the Gypsy - I’m guaranteed. / To tear your soul apart.” I guess I made the connection at the time, about acid being LSD, but only now has it really MATTERED. “Give us a room, close the door / Leave us for a while. /Your boy won’t be a boy any more / Young, but not a child. / I’m the Gypsy - the acid queen. / Pay before we start. / The Gypsy – I’m guaranteed. / To tear your soul apart.” She then takes Tommy on his first trip. “Gather your wits and hold on fast, / Your mind must learn to roam. / Just as the Gypsy Queen must do / You’re gonna hit the road.” She then admires what she’s done. “My work is done now look at him / He’s never been more alive. / His head it shakes his fingers clutch. / Watch his body rise! / I’m the Gypsy - the acid queen. / Pay before we start. / I’m the Gypsy – I’m guaranteed. / To break your little heart.” The opening verse is repeated, before we enter into Tommy’s subconscious by virtue of the 9:56 minute long Underture, one of the great classics of modern rock music. What are those large drums used by orchestras? Timpanis, perhaps? Anyway, there are some hectic bass drums on this, along with some of Moon’s most aggressive drumming. But the composition is marvelously nuanced, with a series of crescendos and troughs, all built around that famous bass riff. Wikipedia calls Underture “an extensive instrumental representing Tommy’s experience on acid”. Having not had that experience myself, what I can say is that I once ate a dagga cookie and had probably the worst 12 or so hours of my life. But, hey, the likes of Timothy Leary swore by acid.
This is the halfway mark. Side 3 starts with a short, heavy rock track, Do You Think It’s Alright?, which leads into Fiddle About. Mrs Walker asks: “Do you think it’s alright / To leave the boy with Uncle Ernie? / Do you think it’s alright? / There’s something ’bout him I / Don’t really like. / Do you think it’s alright?” Frank Walker replies: “I think it’s alright, / Yes, I think it’s alright.” But, as Wikipedia observes, Ernie is “an alcoholic sexual deviant” who, like cousin Kevin, abuses Tommy without fear of being caught. Entwistle wrote Fiddle About, which features a buzzing fuzz bass, alongside Townshend’s lead guitar. They set up a brooding rhythm, to which Uncle Ernie sings: “I’m your wicked Uncle Ernie / I’m glad you won’t see or hear me / As I fiddle about / Fiddle about / Fiddle about! / Your mother left me here to mind you / Now I’m doing what I want to / Fiddling about / Fiddling about / Fiddle about!” The paedophile strikes. “Down with the bedclothes / Up with your nightshirt! / Fiddle about / Fiddle about / Fiddle about!” Then, as he becomes more intimate, he threatens his victim. “You won’t shout as I fiddle about / Fiddle about / Fiddle about …”
Next up is the song which made the album famous, Pinball Wizard. It, too, is one of the greatest rock songs in history. That strummed acoustic guitar opening, followed by heavy lead guitar notes set the song thundering along at a hectic pace. Wikipedia explains that Tommy is found to have a talent for pinball and defeats the reigning champion, propelling him to international celebrity status. The reigning champion tells the story. “Ever since I was a young boy / I’ve played the silver ball / From Soho down to Brighton / I must have played them all / But I ain’t seen nothing like him / In any amusement hall / That deaf, dumb and blind kid / Sure plays a mean pinball.” He’s frustrated by the blind, deaf mute’s ability. “He stands like a statue / Becomes part of the machine / Feeling all the bumpers / Always playing clean / He plays by intuition / The digit counters fall / That deaf, dumb and blind kid / Sure plays a mean pinball.” Then the famous chorus. “He’s a pinball wizard / There’s got to be a twist / A pinball wizard / He’s got such a supple wrist.” He’s baffled. “How do you think he does it? / (I don’t know) / What makes him so good?” But he has some ideas about what the reasons are. “He ain’t got no distractions / Can’t hear those buzzers and bells / Don’t see no lights a flashin’ / Plays by sense of smell / Always gets a replay / Never tilts at all / That deaf, dumb and blind kid / Sure plays a mean pinball.” And he’s forced to admit defeat. “I thought I was / The Bally table king / But I just handed / My pinball crown to him.” Even the “home games” he loses, as Tommy’s fan base grows. “Even on my usual table / He can beat my best / His disciples lead him in / And he just does the rest / He’s got crazy flipper fingers / Never seen him fall / That deaf, dumb and blind kid / Sure plays a mean pinball.” It’s a truly brilliant construction which is given all the musical polish you’d expect from the Who in their prime.
But still Tommy’s parents want to find a cure. The short introduction, There’s A Doctor, leads into the watershed moment, Go To The Mirror. Crisp piano, drums and bass back the vocals as the Father declares: “There’s a man I’ve found could bring us all joy! / There’s a doctor I’ve found could cure the boy! / There’s a doctor I’ve found could cure the boy!” He’s optimistic. “There’s a man I’ve found could remove his sorrow, / He lives in this town let’s see him tomorrow, / Let’s see him tomorrow!” Wikipedia says the specialist does tests and finds nothing medically wrong with him, concluding the problems are psychosomatic. At the same time, Tommy’s subconscious “is trying to reach out to them”. This is a good, solid rock song, which incorporates the iconic “see me, feel me” melody. Initially, the Doctor comments: “He seems to be completely unreceptive. / The tests I gave him show no sense at all. / His eyes react to light the dials detect it. / He hears but cannot answer to your call.” All the time, in his other world, Tommy is crying out silently: “See me, feel me, touch me, heal me. / See me, feel me, touch me, heal
Tommy Can You Year Me starts with more big, strummed acoustic guitar chords and bass. It is a beautiful melody, as first the Father asks, “Tommy can you hear me? / Can you feel me near you?” Then the Mother: “Tommy can you see me? / Can I help to cheer you.” Then in harmony: “Ooo, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy.” The Father again: “Tommy can you hear me? / Can you feel me near you?” The Mother: “Tommy can you see me? / Can I help to cheer you.” Then both again: “Ooo, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy.” And so they continue, oohing and aahing over their son. But on the next song, the mother gets angry and frustrated.
A bluesy lead riff on Smash The Mirror sees the Mother venting her spleen. “You don’t answer my call / With even a nod or a twitch / But you gaze at your own reflection! / You don’t seem to see me / But I think you can see yourself. / How can the mirror affect you? / Can you hear me / Or do I surmise / That you fear me can you feel my temper / Rise, rise, rise, rise, rise, / Rise, rise, rise, rise, rise, / Rise, rise, rise!” With this, of course, the band ups the ante, preparing you for the next crucial step. “Do you hear or fear or / Do I smash the mirror? / Do you hear or fear or / Do I smash the mirror?” And of course she does, and after the clatter of glass crashing to the floor there is a sound as if a window has opened and a fresh breeze has blown through the room.
The next song, Sensation, marks the moment when Tommy “snaps out of his unreceptive state”, according to Wikipedia, with the smashing of the mirror having done the trick. It adds that his “miracle cure” becomes a public sensation and he attains “guru-like status”. He “assumes a quasi-messianic mantle and tries to lead his fans to an enlightenment similar to his own”. The melody is conspicuously upbeat, with Townshend doing the lead vocal duties. “I overwhelm as I approach you / Make your lungs hold breath inside! / Lovers break caresses for me / Love enhanced when I’ve gone by.” That’s the first time I’ve seen those lines and understood what was being said. The chorus, of course, was far easier. “You’ll feel me coming, / A new vibration / From afar you’ll see me /I’m a sensation, I’m a sensation.” He certainly doesn’t suffer from self-doubt. “They worship me and all I touch / Hazy-eyed they catch my glance, / Pleasant shudders shake their senses / My warm momentum throws their stance.” After repeating the “I’m a sensation” chorus, he adds: “Soon you’ll see me, can’t you feel me / I’m coming … / Send your troubles dancing I know the answer / I’m coming … I’m coming … / I’m a sensation.” His self-promotion knows no bounds. “I leave a trail of rooted people / Mesmerised by just the sight, / The few I touch are now disciples / Love as One I Am the Light …” There is some great piano, acoustic guitar and drum work here, along with an interesting orchestral arrangement juxtaposed with the acoustic guitar. The biblical references are obvious. Then, like Jesus, he also starts curing people’s ills. Giving it a real British feel, you hear a newsboy sing: “Extra! Extra! / Read all about it. / Pin Ball Wizard in a miracle cure! / Extra Extra read all about it / EXTRA!”
Then follows a song about a Tommy groupie. Acoustic guitar and piano, along with a chirpy bass, give Sally Simpson a gentle folk-rock feel. Daltrey gives it his all, while a brilliant bit of pianowork almost steals the show. This is one of those songs we knew so well we could virtually sing the whole thing. “Outside the house Mr. Simpson announced / that Sally couldn’t go to the meeting. / He went on cleaning his blue Rolls Royce / and she ran inside weeping. / She got to her room and tears splashed the picture / of the new Messiah. / She picked up a book of her father’s life / and threw it on the fire!” Unfortunately, I never heard the line about how her tears splashed a picture of the new Messiah, but it is certainly a powerful image of teenage adulation, which was common among our generation for the top musicians of the time. The chorus is particularly catchy. “She knew from the start / Deep down in her heart / That she and Tommy were worlds apart, / But her Mother said never mind your part... / Is to be what you’ll be.” In fact, at the time I heard not “worlds apart” but “well to part”, which was foolish and I apologise. Anyway, she goes to the meeting without her parents’ permission, just as many of us would sneak out to hear “dodgy” bands. “The theme of the sermon was come onto me, / Love will find a way, / So Sally decided to ignore her dad, / and sneak out anyway! / She spent all afternoon getting ready, / and decided she’d try to touch him, / Maybe he’d see that she was free / and talk to her this Sunday.” The chorus is followed by: “She arrived at six and the place was swinging / to gospel music by nine. / Group after group appeared on the stage / and Sally just sat there crying. / She bit her nails looking pretty as a picture / right in the very front row / And then a DJ wearing a blazer with a badge / ran on and said ‘here we go!’” This is surely a metaphor for the Beatlemania and other manias which went down in the Sixties. “The crowd went crazy / As Tommy hit the stage! / Little Sally got lost as the police bossed / The crowd back in a rage!” Things then settle down. “But soon the atmosphere was cooler / as Tommy gave a lesson. / Sally just had to let him know she loved him / and leapt up on the rostrum! / She ran cross stage to the spotlit figure / and brushed him on the face / Tommy whirled around as a uniformed man, threw her off the stage.” Then, after that poignant chorus, the narrative continues: “Her cheek hit a chair and blood trickled down, / mingling with her tears, / Tommy carried on preaching / and his voice filled Sally’s ears / She caught his eye she had to try / but couldn’t see through the lights / Her face was gashed and the ambulance men / had to carry her out that night.” Meanwhile, the mania continued: “The crowd went crazy / As Tommy left the stage! / Little Sally was lost for the price of a touch / And a gash across her face! OOoooh.” Then the inevitable aftermath: “Sixteen stitches put her right and her Dad said / ‘don't say I didn’t warn yer’. / Sally got married to a rock musician / she met in
Interestingly, Wikipedia says that the next track, I’m Free, has been placed directly after Smash The Mirror on later versions of Tommy, because Tommy’s “attempts to spiritually enlighten those that are listening to his sermons” are seen as a direct result of his “cure”. However, this is the original sequence we grew up with. This is a fast, bass-led, piano-enhanced rock track, with some great electric rhythm guitar and an acoustic guitar solo that is a highlight of the album. “I’m free – I’m free, / And freedom tastes of reality, / I’m free-I’m free, / An’ I’m waiting for you to follow me.” This song encapsulates the great, rock operatic musical theme which runs through the album, with those big chords and heavy drums. “If I told you what it takes / to reach the highest high, / You’d laugh and say / ‘nothing’s that simple’ / But you’ve been told many times before / Messiahs pointed to the door / And no one had the guts to leave the temple!” And so Tommy becomes the great proselytizer. “I’m free-I’m free / And freedom tastes of reality / I’m free-I’m free / And I’m waiting for you to follow me.” Then, after that great acoustic guitar solo, his supporters sing in chorus: “How can we follow? / How can we follow?”
Well, as with all great religious movements, he soon gets a whole range of hangers-on which ensure that the masses get the word. On Welcome, another of the great tracks off the album, Tommy displays an altruistic side which in a sense seeks to capture the spirit of the rock revolution. “Come to my house / Be one of the comfortable people. / Come to this house / We’re drinking all night / Never sleeping.” Okay, so they did some boozing, but still everyone was welcome to share in the good times. “Milkman come in! / And you baker, / Little old lady welcome / And you shoe maker.” Then the magnanimous, “Come to this house! / Into this house.” As the strummed acoustic guitar almost runs away with itself, the song calms down again. “Come to this house / Be one of us. / Make this your house / Be one of us.” Then, the mood picking up again, Tommy implores people to spread the word. “You can help / To collect some more in / Young and old people / Let’s get them all in!” Again, it’s glorious. “Come to this house! / Into this house.” The song then takes on a sort of talking blues quality as Tommy summons his supporters, riding his luck like one of those preachers who discover they have what it takes to pack in the hordes. “Ask along that man who’s wearing a carnation./ Bring every single person from Victoria Station, / Go into that hospital and bring nurses and patients, / Everybody go home and fetch their relations!” After the chorus, there is a realisation that there’s no more space. “We need more room / Build an extension / A colourful palace / Spare no expense now.” Riding this tide of success, the welcoming carpet is always out, and they even decide to hold a summer camp.
Keith Moon’s sole composition adds a light, if somewhat sinister, note to proceedings on Tommy’s Holiday Camp, a short ditty played, it seems, on electric piano and banjo, and featuring a paedophile we met earlier. “Good morning campers! / I’m your Uncle Ernie, / And I welcome you to Tommy’s Holiday Camp! / The camp with a difference / Never mind the weather / When you come to Tommy’s, / The holiday’s forever!” These last four lines are repeated, before it ends with a fiendish, “haha!”, and a gravel-voiced, “Welcome!!”.
Then those emblematic Tommy chords add a sense of gravitas, as the song reaches its climax on the final track, We’re Not Gonna Take It. Things start auspiciously for Tommy, but as with all revolutions, members of his cult become heavy-handed in enforcing the strictures Tommy tries to introduce. Because, as Wikipedia notes, he decides that in order for his followers to reach the great spiritual heights he reached, they need to play pinball in a simulated deaf, dumb and blind condition. A rebellion doesn’t take long to occur. “Abandoned by his followers and worshipers, Tommy gains a new enlightenment,” opines Wikipedia. Let’s see how the song went. It is a great rock track, with Daltrey again doing the lead vocals as Tommy leads his followers in their devotions – to pinball. “Welcome to the camp, / I guess you all know why we’re here / My name is Tommy, and I became aware this year / If you want to follow me, you’ve got to play pinball / And put in your ear plugs, put on your eye shades / You know where to put the cork.” Of course at the time we sniggered at this, with the obvious reply to that last line being “up yer arse!”. Anyway, with corks in their mouths, they were ready for their new religion. “Hey you gettin drunk, so sorry, I got you sussed / Hey you smokin mother nature, this is a bust / Hey hung up old Mr. Normal don’t try to gain my trust / ’Cause you ain’t gonna follow me any of those ways although you think you must.” So here Tommy disses drugs and drink. But his followers are angry. “We’re not gonna take it / We’re not gonna take it / We’re not gonna take it / We’re not gonna take it / We’re not gonna take it, never did and never will / We’re not gonna take it, gonna break it, gonna shake it, let’s forget it better still.” This has a wonderful, ineluctable rhythm, crisply clear on the CD version, with every note perfectly in place. But Tommy continues despite the rebellion. “Now you can’t hear me, your ears are truly sealed / You can’t speak either, your mouth is filled / You can’t hear nothing, and pinball completes the scene / Here comes Uncle Ernie to guide you to your very own machine.” The rebels get more aggressive. After repeating “We’re not gonna take it” several more times, they cry: “We’re not gonna take it, never did and never will / Don’t want no religion, not as far as we can tell / We ain’t gonna take you never did and never will / We forsake you, gonna rape you, let’s forget you better still / We forsake you, gonna rape you, let’s forget you better still.” Does this rejection drive Tommy back into his own deaf, dumb and blind world? The song certainly suggests it, with a change of mood seeing him again plaintively crying out: “See me, feel me, touch me, heal me / See me, feel me, touch me, heal me / See me, feel me, touch me, heal me / See me, feel me, touch me, heal me.” The great rock anthem then starts turning on the heat as the song gets a whole lot heavier. “Listening to you I get the music / Gazing at you, I get the heat / Following you I climb the mountain / I get excitement at your feet / Right behind you I see the millions / On you I see the glory / From you I get opinions / From you I get the story.” This is repeated, with Daltrey’s vocals at their finest, until it eventually fades.
Wikipedia says the story on the original album was “quite scattered”, but, having read the above elaboration, I think it was perfect. In art there is never a need for absolutes. I find the fact that Tommy, rejected, goes back to his original state, living inside himself, quite a powerful denouement. In fact, it is a masterstroke which rounds off the entire concept beautifully. This was surely one of the greatest rock albums of our times. Or was it? Wikipedia says when it was released, some critics thought it a masterpiece, “the beginnings of a new genre”, while others felt it was “sick and exploitative because of its dark theme”. Incredibly, Wikipedia says the album was banned by the BBC and some US radio stations. But the album was a “huge commercial success” and parts were often featured on live shows, “elevating the Who to a new level of prestige and international stardom”.
Wikipedia does carry a nit-picking dissing of the album by author and Who historian Richard Barnes, who says Tommy is not in fact an opera (oh duh!), but more accurately a rock oratorio, like Handel’s Messiah. The music on the album is described by Wikipedia as “a complex set of pop-rock arrangements, generally based upon Townshend’s acoustic guitar and built up with many overdubs”. Instruments used include “bass, electric and acoustic guitars, piano, organ, drum kit, gong, timpani, trumpet, French horn, three-part vocal harmonies and occasional doubling on vocal solos”. They note that Townshend “mixes fingerpicking in with his trademark power chords and fat riffs, and in some delicate moments his guitar sounds almost like a harpsichord”. Perhaps that is the “electric piano” and “banjo” I was hearing. Ah, and then there is an answer to my query about that opening sound on Amazing Journey. Wikipedia says Townshend’s “later interest in synthesizers is foreshadowed by the use of taped sounds played in reverse to give a whistling, chirping sound on Amazing Journey”.
Apart from Pinball Wizard, Overture, I’m Free and See Me Feel Me / Listening To You were released as singles and “got a decent amount of airplay”. Pinball Wizard made the Top 20 in the
Was it one of the greatest albums? Well, Rolling Stone magazine in 2003 placed it at No 96 in its list of the greatest 500 albums.
I noted earlier what a powerful impact the cover of Tommy had on us. Wikipedia describes it as a “triptych-style fold-out cover”, with all three outer panels spanning a single Pop Art painting by Mike McInnerney. This is that incredible “sphere with diamond-shaped cutouts and an overlay of clouds and seagulls rendered with a figure-ground ambiguity similar to that in the work of M C Escher”. On the left, a “star-spangled hand bursts from the dark background, index finger pointing forward”. Wikipedia says the label’s executives insisted on having a picture of the band on the cover, so “small, barely recognisable images of the band members’ faces were inserted into the gaps in the sphere, each with an outstretched hand like a groping Tommy Walker”. Apparently, recent CDs revert to McInnerney’s original, without the faces. They say the internal artwork consists of “jugglers/magicians and some very simple paintings that only hint at illustrating the story”. Those images are certainly not in my copy, which is the same as the one we had originally, with continues the seagull motifs and features more hands groping in darkness, which is mitigated by the light from three ornate fittings. On the right, a series of cubes burst forth with green foliage. I don’t recall our album having a narrow booklet with the lyrics, or we would certainly have made use of it.
Wikipedia also goes into details about subsequent vinyl and CD releases, with one including outtakes from the original, which sounds interesting. There are also, we learn, various albums which feature live recordings of the Who performing Tommy, including one for its 20th anniversary in 1989. There was also a 1972 concert featuring the Who and the London Symphony Orchestra, conducted by David Measham, which sounds very interesting. There are many more cases of Tommy being performed around the world. But the bottom line is that the concept, so brilliantly executed on that 1969 double album and lapped up by us as teenagers, was one of the most remarkable pieces of creative genius in a time of unparalleled creativity and genius.
I had just started art school at the
Wikipedia says it was one of the first music films with a multichannel hi-fi soundtrack (“quintaphonic”), and was often played in theatres at “rock concert volumes”. It received mixed reviews by was “a huge commercial success”. It certainly would be worth viewing afresh since, says Wikipedia, it “achieved cult status” for Brown’s portrayal of a priest in Tommy’s cult, and Ann-Margaret’s frolic in a pool of beans, which referenced the cover of 1967’s The Who Sell Out. Endorsing my view stated earlier that Tommy could be interpreted as commenting on the idolosing of rock stars, Wikipedia adds that the Sally Simpson scene is a “sharp satire on pop music”. I do recall that Elton John wore metre-high Doc Marten boots as the Pinball Wizard, and that Tina Turner had, as Wikipeida says, an “electrifying cameo” as the Acid Queen.
Interestingly, Wikipedia says Townshend “reworked the storyline extensively for the film”. Apart from giving it far greater detail, he set it in the Second World War period, not the first. Also – well spotted! – he “cured the anachronism arising from Sally Simpson’s marriage to a rock musician from California … Since no such musicians existed until the 1960s, Sally would have had a 30+ year wait and would have been in her 50s by then”. The film also has Capt Walker being killed by the lover and not vice versa. It seems this really was Townshend’s baby. He also produced a new double album recording, which says Wikipeida, “returned the music to its rock roots, and on which the unrecorded orchestral arrangements he had envisaged for the original Tommy LP were realised by the extensive use of synthesizer”. This soundtrack LP also included leading session musicans, such as Caleb Quaye and John “Rabbit” Bundrick. With Moon busy filming Stardust, most of the drumming is by Kenney Jones. Pinball Wizard, from this album and performed by Elton John, was “a major hit” single. But, while performed entirely by John and his band, Wikipedia says the film shows him backed by the Who dressed in “pound-note suits”. I remember at the time being disappointed by the fact that Tommy, an absolute classic Who album, was being given this sort of glitzy, show-biz treatment.
Ever attentive to detail, Wikipedia also go into a stage version from the 1990s on Broadway, with which Townshend was also involved. It won five Tony Awards, including Best Original Score for Townshend. Wikipedia also includes a list of miscellaneous data, but warns about their possible apocryphal nature. Among these is that Moon didn’t actually write Tommy’s Holiday Camp, but came up with the idea, which Towshend then turned into a song. Another is that Sally Simpson was based on an actual incident during a Who concert with the Doors in
And it seems the Who even enjoyed a bit of divine intervention which helped popularise them in the
And it all started with that one pivotal double album which was such an integral part of our upbringing. But it didn’t even reach No 1. Considering the wealth of competition, the highest Tommy achieved was No 2 in the
Live At
The year 1970 was like the
In my opening remarks I noted what an impact Live at
But let’s see what the oracle, Wikipedia, has to say about the album. Well it was recorded on February 14, 1970, and released on May 16 of that year. It is 36:24 minutes long and classified as “rock, hard rock”. The remastered version, by the way, is a massive 76:59 minutes long. Produced by the Who, Kit Lambert and Jon Astley, it was their first live album and the only live album released while they were still recording and performing regularly, says Wikipedia. Oh and it was ranked No 170 on Rolling Stone magazine’s 2003 list of the 500 greatest albums of all time.
Ever conscious of the need to verify reference sources, Wikipedia editors have raised queries about some of the facts cited as background information on Live at
In order to produce fresh live material, two concerts were scheduled, one at the
And so what about that cover? Wikipedia says it looks like “the simple cover of a bootleg LP of the era: it is of plain brown cardboard with The Who Live At Leeds printed on it in plain blue or red block letters as if stamped on with ink”. We weren’t so lucky as to have the original gatefold-style cover, with a sleeve filled with memorabilia, lyrics and photographs of the band. Our SA pressing indeed looked more like a Spartan bootleg version. There is also a facsimile of a note, said to be handwritten by Townshend, instructing engineers not to try to remove any crackling noise. This, says Wikipedia, may refer to “clicking and popping” on the original version (notably on Shakin All Over) caused by Entwistle’s guitar cable. “Modern digital remastering techniques allowed this to be removed”, and also cleaned up other previously unusable tracks.
The critics loved it, with The New York Times calling it “the best live rock album ever made”, says Wikipedia. Recently, Q magazine placed at No 1 on its live album list. And what of the venue, the
It was in a way a tribute to the rock and roll/R&B roots of the group, with Side 1 including Young Man Blues by Mose Allison, Townshend’s Substitute, Eddie Cochran’s Summertime Blues and Johnny Kidd’s Shakin’ All Over. Side 2 comprises the lengthy My Generation and Magic Bus, both Townshend songs.
But the 1995 CD is another kettle of piranhas. It includes the original tracks, which were expanded, and many new ones. These, says Wikipedia, are Heaven And Hell, I Can’t Explain, Fortune Teller, Tattoo, Happy Jack, I’m A Boy, A Quick One While He’s Away, Amazing Journey/Sparks and My Generation. Now that would certainly be worth hearing. And it included song introductions and “other banter edited out of the original release”, says Wikipedia.
The band covered similar material later that year, and in 1996 Live at the Isle of Wight Festival 1970 was released. A film, Listening to You: The Who at the Isle of Wight Festival, was released at the same time. Then in 2001 a Deluxe edition with even more chat and a near-complete performance of Tommy was released. Now that would surely be one for the collection!
Again, with all that competition out there, Live At Leeds could only reach No 3 in the
Who’s Next
Interestingly, Wikipedia says in 1970 the Who started work on a studio album that was never released. Because Townshend then wrote Pure And Easy, which was to be the basis for a concept album and performance art project called Lifehouse. But, says Wikipedia, it was never completed in its intended form. However, a radio play was done for the BBC in 2000, with a 6-CD album being released from Townshend’s website. But that’s by the by. Back in March, 1971, the band started recording songs for the Lifehouse project, but the concept was truncated, and became Who’s Next, one of the great Who albums which we listened to avidly throughout my high school years.
Recorded between March and May, 1971, and released in the
So what was this Lifehouse project that Townshend came up with? Wikipedia says it has been variously described as being intended as a futuristic rock opera, a live-recorded concept album and as the music for a film project. But it backfired in that it caused stress within the band and alienated producer Kit Lambert. Wikipedia quotes Townshend as saying in the liner notes for the remastered CD version of Who’s Next that the project “led him to the verge of a suicidal nervous breakdown”. It was that good!
While the band aborted the project, they retained parts of it in Who’s Next, with Pure And Easy – “the central pivot of Lifehouse”, according to Townshend – emerging near the end of The Song Is Over. Ironically, Wikipedia says abandonment of the project gave the band a “newfound freedom; the very absence of an overriding musical theme or storyline (which had been the basis of previous Who projects) allowing the band to concentrate on maximizing the impact of individual tracks”.
Wikipedia says the album was “immediately recognized for its dynamic and unique sound”, having arrived at a time when great advances had occurred in sound engineering, and just as music synthesizers had become widely available. “The result was a sound that was absolutely stunning at the time, and rather unprecedented in rock music (although disliked by some traditional Who fans of the time)”. They also note that, as with most of the Who’s albums, the “full and brash” sound is often contrasted with finger-picked acoustic guitar, while Daltrey’s “swaggering vocals alternate with quieter introspective moments”.
And Townshend clearly was having fun with that synthesizer and modified keyboard sounds, creating a drone effect on Baba O’Riley and Won’t Get Fooled Again, and a “boiling teapot” sound, according to Wikipedia, on The Song Is Over. Then something called an “envelope follower” was used to “modulate the spectrum of his guitar” on Going Mobile. This, says Wikipedia, gives it a “distinctive squawking sound that degenerates into a bubbling noise at the end of the song”.
Wow! I’ve just given Who’s Next a fresh listen and was amazed at the smoothness of the sound, thanks in part I think to that synthesizer. But the overall texture is like a good single-malt whisky. It may at times be heavy rock, but it has the Townshend stamp, which means there is an incredible amount of thought behind every facet of the songs’ arrangement and the final mixing.
Wikipedia calls the opening track, Baba O’Riley, innovative, and I guess thinking back that this was the first time we had heard a song start with entirely “artificial” music – the incredible trilling synthesizer which sets up a metronomic rhythm through an ever-varying array of notes. Informally known as Teenage Wasteland, the song has an almost anthemic gravitas, with the mood set by those first big piano bass notes followed by Moon’s tearaway drums and cymbals. Finally, Entwistle’s big, beautiful bass fills out the bottom and the stage is set for Daltrey’s iconic opening lines (remembering that all the songs, bar one, are Townshend compositions). “Out here in the fields / I farm for my meals / I put my back into my living. / I don’t need to fight / To prove I’m right / I don’t need to be forgiven. / yeah,yeah,yeah,yeah,yeah.” Funny that, but I always heard that second line to read “I fight for my meals”. Farming is so much more peaceful a way of getting food. Anyway, as that synthesizer keeps up its end, the song slows for the first of several Townshend vocal solos, his sensitive-sounding voice the perfect foil for Daltrey’s brasher, in-your-face rock idiom. “Don’t cry / Don’t raise your eye / It’s only teenage wasteland.” Now I only have lyrics off some website, but I wonder if that shouldn’t read “raise your ire” – ie get angry? The song then kicks back into heavy rock mode, with Daltrey resuming the singing. “Sally, take my hand / We’ll travel south cross land / Put out the fire / And don’t look past my shoulder. / The exodus is here / The happy ones are near / Let’s get together / Before we get much older.” Deliberately obscure, these lyrics speak of the indecisiveness of youth, a sentiment which seems to be summed up in the chorus. “Teenage wasteland / It’s only teenage wasteland. / Teenage wasteland / Oh, yeah / Teenage wasteland / They’re all wasted!” Did he sing “they’re all” or “we’re all”. Certainly most of us were getting wasted, whether on booze of grass. The song morphs gradually into an incredible fiddle solo by Dave Arbus, which builds to a crescendo as Moon’s drums add impetus near the end. Wikipedia says the song, with Townshend also featured on piano, pays homage to his guru, Meher Baba and “influential minimalist composer Terry Riley”. It is one of the great songs of our youth.
Townshend had this fun thing going where the actual act of making music forms the focus of his music, and Getting In Tune, the next track, is probably the first example of it. It starts with slow, beautiful piano played by that inveterate session musician Nicky Hopkins, and some lovely bass passages, before Daltrey sings the almost ballad-like opening lines. “I’m singing this note ’cause it fits in well / With the chords I’m playing / I can’t pretend there’s any meaning / Hidden in the things I’m saying.” Then the chorus: “But I’m in tune / Right in tune / I’m in tune / And I’m gonna tune / Right in on you / Right in on you / Right in on you.” When the bass and drums arrive, they don’t suddenly destroy the previous subtleties. Instead, they add velvety layers of texture as Daltrey continues. “I get a little tired of having to say / ‘Do you come here often?’ / But then I look in your eyes and see the harmonies / And the heartaches soften.” After the chorus is repeated, he expands this theme. “I’ve got it all here in my head / There’s nothing more needs to be said / I’m just bangin’ on my old piano / I’m getting in tune to the straight and narrow / (Getting in tune to the straight and narrow) …” This is repeated four times, before the song again mellows: “I’m singing this note ’cause it fits in well / With the way I’m feeling / There’s a symphony that I hear in your heart / Sets my head a-reeling …” Then the “but I’m in tune” section is repeated before the final round, where Daltry really lets rip on the vocals. “I've got it all here in my head / There’s nothing more needs to be said / I’m just bangin’ on my old piano / I’m getting in tune with the straight and narrow / Getting in tune to the straight and narrow …”
Ah, and then that great, great Townshend acoustic guitar gets Love Ain’t For Keeping under way, ably supported by bass and drums. Daltrey’s vocals are again superb: “Layin’ on my back / In the newly mown grass / Rain is coming down / But the clouds will surely pass / You bring me tea / Say ‘the babe’s a-sleepin’’ / Lay down my darling / Love ain’t for keeping.” It’s a lovely image of a loving relationship, but this is the first time it’s actually sunk in. I just didn’t join the dots and find out what was being said before. That’s what happens when you’re listening too closely to the guitar, drums, slashing cymbals and all the other things which give this song such great texture. Oh and don’t forget the vocal harmonies, which again are superb. And, of course, the acoustic guitar solo near the end. But what was this song all about? “Black ash from the foundry / Hangs like a hood / But the air is perfumed / By the burning firewood / The seeds are bursting, / The Spring is seeping / Lay down beside me / Love ain’t for keeping.” What it is, is a superlative piece of songwriting, although I can’t quite pin down why this love isn’t for keeping. Maybe he means it is something to be lived and enjoyed in the moment, not set aside and kept for another time. As with most Townshend tracks, a form of vocal improvisation seems to occur, as variations on “lay down beside me / love ain’t for keeping”, as well as “no, no, don’t keep your love”, carry the song to its conclusion. Another Who masterpiece.
So what about the only non-Townshend song on the album, Entwistle’s My Wife? Interestingly, before I realised it was what I’ve just said, I always simply accepted it as a slightly different part of the whole, but a Who song nonetheless. It is a fast, bass-led rocker, and, while it does lack the variations and nuances of Townshend’s work, it remains a fine song in its own right. And as I suspected, the somewhat muted vocals are by Entwistle who, Wikipedia tells us, also plays piano on this track. Again, I had not previously heard these lyrics in so far as understanding what was going down. “My life’s in jeopardy / Murdered in cold blood is what I’m gonna be / I ain’t been home since Friday night / And now my wife is coming after me.” Oh dear! I think most newly married young men have been here. Let’s see what he does. “Give me police protection / Gonna buy a gun so / I can look after number one / Give me a bodyguard / A black belt Judo expert with a machine gun.” This must be one mean woman. “Gonna buy a tank and an aeroplane / When she catches up with me / Won’t be no time to explain / She thinks I;ve been with another woman / And that’s enough to send her half insane / Gonna buy a fast car / Put on my lead boots / And take a long, long drive / I may end up spending all my money / But I’ll still be alive.” I wonder if this is based on an actual incident. “All I did was have a bit too much to drink / And I picked the wrong pc / Got picked up by the law / And now I ain’t got time to think.” The song continues at a frenetic pace, with bass and drums often incongruously loud, unlike on the other tracks where they are seamlessly integrated. Anyway, as the pace picks up, we rejoin an exhausted Entwistle. “And I’m oh so tired of running / Gonna lay down on the floor / I gotta rest some time so / I can get to run some more.” The song ends with a great jam and the introduction of brass, also played by Entwistle, as he looks up to find that … “She’s comin’! / She’s comin’!” And I don’t think that is meant as a double entendre. She was after him and looking mean, man!
The last track on Side 1 is another of those Townshend philosophical songs about music, which, as noted earlier, at the end includes a couple of lines from his “pivotal” song, Pure And Easy. Piano, played again by
Side 2 begins with typically strident acoustic guitar on Bargain, before becoming a full-blooded rock song, opening with Daltrey-sung lyrics I confess to not having heard at the time. Only the chorus was clearly audible. But what a pleasure to finally discover what the song was about. “I’d gladly lose me to find you / I’d gladly give up all I had / To find you I’d suffer anything and be glad.” The next verse was equally unfathomable at the time, but also talks of the loss of self often attendant on absolute immersion in romantic love. “I’d pay any price just to get you / I’d work all my life and I will / To win you I’d stand naked, stoned and stabbed.” And then, as the song slow, in the chorus he confesses that even these sacrifices would be more than worth it. “I’d call that a bargain / The best I ever had / The best I ever had.” By now that bass guitar is really ripping, while Townshend’s finger-picked acoustic guitar and wheezing, breezing synthesizer sounds add another interesting dimension. “I’d gladly lose me to find you / I’d gladly give up all I got / To catch you I’m gonna run and never stop.” Townshend lays it on lyrically. “I’d pay any price just to win you / Surrender my good life for bad / To find you I’m gonna drown an unsung man.” Again, he says this would be the best bargain he’s had. Then, with Daltrey having powered through the opening section, it is Townshend himself who sings a sort of reflective reprise. “I sit looking ’round / I look at my face in the mirror / I know I’m worth nothing without you / In life one and one don’t make two / One and one make one / And I’m looking for that free ride to me / I’m looking for you.” It is very clever writing, with the emotional wholeness of a love relationship even in the end defying the logic of mathematics. It is a great song in which the organ-like synthesizer is much to the fore. There is also a lovely jam session near the end in which acoustic and electric guitar, tambourine and drums gel magnificently.
But of course this was an album of great songs, and Going Mobile is another of those Townshend classics that bristles with brilliance. And it had nothing to do with mobile phones. Fast-paced acoustic guitar, piano, drums and those slashing cymbals see the song build into another rock gem, before a more laid-back mood heralds Townshend’s crisp vocals. “I’m going home / And when I want to go home, I’m going mobile / Well I’m gonna find a home on wheels, see how it feels, / Goin’ mobile / Keep me moving.” So this is about living the life of a modern-day gypsy. The second verse explores the benefits of a life on the road. “I can pull up by the curb, / I can make it on the road, / Goin’ mobile / I can stop in any street / And talk with people that we meet / Goin’ mobile / Keep me moving.” Again the synthesizer is prominent, or is that some strange device which gives the lead guitar a gurgling sound? “Out in the woods / Or in the city / It’s all the same to me / When I’m driving free / The world’s my home / When I’m mobile.” Townshend’s technical wizardry knows no bounds here as the sounds sparkle and splatter with gay abandon. “Play the tape machine / Make the toast and tea / When I’m mobile / Well, I can lay in bed with only highway ahead / When I’m mobile / Keep me moving.” I wonder if this was inspired, perhaps, by his experience of life on tour with the Who. But here there is no deadline to meet. “Keep me moving / Over fifty / Keep me groovin’ / Just a hippie gypsy / Come on move now / Movin’ / Keep me movin’ yeah.” The interplay between the vocals and lead guitar here is, well, moving. “Keep me movin’, movin’, movin’, yeah Movin’ yeah /
Then, as one of my mother’s two blue-eyed boys, I had to identify with the next track, Behind Blue Eyes, which was a hit then and has been poorly covered by many others since. Here we see Townshend’s acoustic finger-picked guitarwork at its finest, as the song opens like a folk ballad, with Daltrey’s vocals at their finest. “No one knows what its like / To be the bad man / To be the sad man / Behind blue eyes.” All four seem to sing these opening verses. “No one knows what its like / To be hated / To be fated / To telling only lies.” Entwistle’s bass kicks in about here, adding a sense of urgency to the now strummed acoustic guitar, with Daltrey out on his own. “But my dreams / They aren’t as empty / As my conscience seems to be.” The mellow bass and strummed guitar set a relaxed mood, but you feel a new sense of angst creep in at this point. “I have hours, only lonely / My love is vengeance / That’s never free.” That note, freeeee, is held for some time until the drums kick in alongside heavy electric guitar and hectic cymbals. It is heavy rock, but still silky smooth. The next verse expands on these heightened emotions. “No one knows what its like / To feel these feelings / Like I do / And I blame you.” This is a trying time in a fraught relationship. “No one bites back as hard / On their anger / None of my pain and woe / Can show through.” And so he again steps back to consider the situation. “But my dreams / They aren’t as empty / As my conscience seems to be… I have hours, only lonely / My love is vengeance / That’s never free.” I really enjoy Daltrey’s hard-arsed approach on this next verse. “When my fist clenches, crack it open / Before I use it and lose my cool / When I smile, tell me some bad news / Before I laugh and act like a fool.” It continues in similar vein, providing the gutsy heart (pardon the mixed metaphor) of this great song. “If I swallow anything evil / Put your finger down my throat / If I shiver, please give me a blanket / Keep me warm, let me wear your coat.” The song settles for a repeat of the opening verse.
And so to the epochal final track, Won’t Get Fooled Again, which runs to 8:32 minutes and is surely the climax of a superb album. Heavy opening guitar chords and a synthesizer sound which seems to advance and recede, rise and fall and go round and round, is supplanted by big chords backed by the inevitable bass/drum rhythm ensemble, setting the scene for those classic opening lines. “We’ll be fighting in the streets / With our children at our feet / And the morals that they worship will be gone / And the men who spurred us on / Sit in judgment of all wrong / They decide and the shotgun sings the song.” Certainly, for me, this opening verse is ambiguous. Who’s he targeting? Who’s to blame. What’s the issue? Entwistle’s bass is again superb as the chorus kicks in. “I’ll tip my hat to the new constitution / Take a bow for the new revolution / Smile and grin at the change all around me / Pick up my guitar and play / Just like yesterday / Then I’ll get on my knees and pray / We don’t get fooled again.” The keyboards chirp along, there are some lovely lead guitar riffs and typical big Who chords. “The change, it had to come / We knew it all along / We were liberated from the foe, that’ all / And the world looks just the same / And history ain’t changed / ’Cause the banners, they all flown in the next war.” Is this the story of a failed revolution? One in which the next regime take on all the trappings of the one that was supplanted? Is that why he’s on his knees praying? Because, the more things changed, the more they stayed the same, and the banners of the revolution are now those of the next war? After the chorus is repeated, with a “no, no!” at the end for emphasis, Daltrey’s vocals become more assertive. “I'll move myself and my family aside / If we happen to be left half alive / I’ll get all my papers and smile at the sky / For I know that the hypnotized never lie … Do ya?” Then that ephocal Daltrey scream. “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” The song is heavy, yet retains an understated Who smoothness, with Townshend’s hand firmly on the tiller. “There’s nothing in the street / Looks any different to me / And the slogans are replaced, by-the-by / And the parting on the left / Is now the parting on the right / And the beards have all grown longer overnight.” I never did get the lyrics to this before now, so it is certainly interesting to see just how cleverly Townshend has portrayed this image of a youth disillusioned by its own revolution. To me he seems to say that any revolution is likely to fail. Utopia is unattainable and leaders, no matter their ideals, all too often succumb to the attractions of instant wealth through greed and corruption, or simply abuse the power they acquire to suppress all opposition. After the final chorus, and another massive Daltrey “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”, the final two lines say it all. “Meet the new boss / Same as the old boss…” It would be interesting to see what the fundis have to say about this though. There are some interesting observations on the Songfacts website. All seem to agree that the song is about the futility of revolution because, as one person wrote, “whoever takes over is destined to become corrupt”. Another noted that the synthesizer “represents the revolution. It builds at the beginning when the uprising starts, and comes back at the end when a new revolution is brewing”. Another says the song was meant to be part of Townshend’s Lifehouse project. “He wanted to release a film about a futuristic world where the people are enslaved, but saved by a rock concert. Townshend couldn’t get enough support to finish the project, but most of the songs he wrote were used on the Who’s Next album.” Another says Daltrey’s scream is “considered one of the best on any rock song. It was quite a convincing wail - so convincing that the rest of the band, lunching nearby, thought Daltrey was brawling with the engineer”. Another quotes Townshend from a Rolling Stone magazine interview as saying: “It’s interesting it’s been taken up in an anthemic sense when in fact it’s such a cautionary piece.” Typically understated, all Wikipedia says is that the album closes with “the epic Won’t Get Fooled Again”. And epic is surely is – one of the greatest rock tracks of all time.
As youngsters, I have to admit that the album cover appealed to us because it seemed like such an overt act of protest. You don’t just go peeing out in the open and then put a picture of it on your album cover. So what was it all about? Wikipedia says the photograph was taken at Easington Colliery and shows the band “apparently having just urinated on a large concrete piling protruding from a slag heap”. But looks, it seems, can be deceiving. Photographer Ethan A Russell is quoted as saying that at the time most of the members were unable to urinate “so rainwater was tipped from an empty canister to achieved the desired effect”. Wikipedia adds that the image is “often seen to be a reference to the monolith discovered on the moon in the film 2001: A Space Odyssey, which had been released about three years earlier”. But the cover could have been more bizarre. Wikipedia says they also mulled using “photos of grotesquely obese nude females”, or one of Keith Moon “dressed in black lingerie, holding a rope whip and wearing a brown wig”, photos of which in fact were used later as part of Decca’s
Wikipedia proffers a wealth of information on the recording history of the album, which evidently had its genesis in demo sessions at the home studios of Townshend and Entwistle in 1970/71, which “produced two reels of songs”. The final product was recorded at Olympic Studios in Barnes in May, 1971. These master tapes, however, are “believed to be lost or destroyed”. Nonetheless, in 2003 a Deluxe edition of Who’s Next was released, comprising the nine original tracks and six outtakes. Many are alternative versions of the originals, including one of Behind Blue Eyes featuring Al Kooper on organ. There is also a second disc containing live recordings at the
Quadrophenia
Quadrophenia, from 1973, was probably the last Who album we really got into in our youth. As noted earlier, I have subsequently discovered fragments of their later albums on a compilation CD album, but back then, when all this was new and fresh, and I was in my penultimate year at school, Quadrophenia played a massive part in my life. It was a double album we would play over and over again, but also I don’t think we paid much attention to what it was all about. Mods and Rockers. A conflict between them.
So what was it all about? Wikipedia says it can be seen as “something of an autobiographical or social history piece about early 1960s adolescent life and conflict in
I think it helped us, me anyway, to know that a young person could become not only schizophrenic, but indeed quadrophenic. Kind of really mixed up, which is what I was for much of the time. The album, Wikipedia tells us, was recorded between May 1972 and June 1973 and released on October 19, 1973. It runs to 81:35 minutes and was produced by the band, Kit Lambert and Glyn Johns.
A double album, Wikipedia says the story is set in both
And I think I’m beginning to track down those missing nudes. Wikipedia says it was released in a butterfly jacket with a “thick booklet containing lyrics, a text version of the story, and photographs illustrating the tale”. It would have been as part of that series of black and white images that I would have found that notorious bedroom wall. Apparently, a remastered 1996 CD contains the original booklet “in miniature”. What a bummer. Wikipedia has nothing else about the cover, but my mate John’s original reveals the black and white front cover photograph was by Graham Hughes, based on an idea by Roger Daltrey. It shows a Mod or Rocker (who cares?) on a shiny chrome scooter, with the word WHO inside the circle-arrow symbol for male. He is surrounded by smoke, while from four mirrors the band members stare out. The word Quadrophenia is written across the length of all four sides of the square. Ethan A Russell did the back and inside photographs as well as those for the booklet, having conceived the idea with Townshend. Here I probably experienced beautiful grainy black and white photography for the first time. The back cover shows that same scooter lying almost submerged in misty, grainy water. Inside, a wide open stretch of flat sea has a small, perfect wave across its breadth, as it is about to break. Inside is a long personal account about those events in 1964 and ’65 which I don’t think any of us read at the time.
Wikipedia says that in liner notes for a remastered Odds and Sods album, Townshend said Quadrophenia evolved from an idea for a self-indulgent autobiography of the band. However, in the end the band’s role becomes “only symbolic, via Jimmy’s four personalities”. The album reached No 2 in the
And a tour to support the album, says Wikipedia, was plagued by problems with malfunctioning sound tapes. And on the first night of the
Finally, before getting into the album itself, we must note that Townshend views it as “the best music I’ve ever written, I think, and it’s the best album that I will ever write”.
Wikipedia says the story covers “about five days of the life” of Jimmy a 1964 Mod, the son of working-class parents. He looks back at events over the past few days which led to his gloomy situation at the end of the story. The story is that Townshend tome to be found on the cover of the album I have next to me, but apparently also included in the booklet. Unless there was another story there!
The first half, says Wikipedia, alludes to “the frustrations and insecurities that govern Jimmy’s life”. This includes “brief glimpses of his home life, his job, his psychoanalyst and his unsuccessful attempts to have a social life”. He feels insecure after a bank holiday spent at
Wikipedia says each of Jimmy’s four personalities is associated with the four Who members, with the liner notes apparently listing them as follows: “A tough guy, a helpless dancer”, who is seen as Daltrey; “a romantic, is it me for a moment?”, which is seen as Entwistle; “a bloody lunatic, I’ll even carry your bags”, which is seen as Moon, and “a beggar, a hypocrite, love reign o’er me”, which is seen as Townshend.
Having just listened to this album in full for the first time in decades, I was astounded at its beauty. It essentially comprises five or six really solid, great Who rock tracks melded together by a series of instrumental works which are probably the closest any rock composer in the Sixties got to integrating classical-type compositions into the rock idiom. Wikipedia puts it this way. It says apart from those four “personalities”, there are four musical themes describing them in the opera, what Townshend calls “leitmotifis”, which sounds awfully important. But let’s get to that as we go along. Living as we did beside the surging surf at
Into the sublime title track, Quadrophenia, a 6:15 minute instrumental which is a Townshend masterpiece. It opens with frenetic acoustic guitar, piano and electric guitar. Bass and drums solidify things before the tune slows as the piano and lead guitar take control. Cymbals are flailed and a synthesizer slices through. The piece varies from hard, rollicking rock, to mellow almost orchestral passages. Moon’s drums roll along as brass is now heard, with the synthesizer doing violin impressions. At one point the whole thing changes mood, and the piano leads us on a Morris-dance, which speeds up backed by that synthesizer. At another point the song seems to be a wall of electronic sound, making it difficult to determine precisely what instruments one is hearing. Finally, after a return to the melody, the sound of the surf again asserts itself.
This was a Townshend creation, so it is fitting that he should have the lead vocals on several songs, and his voice is beautiful on Cut My Hair, a slow, bluesy rock. Again the bass is brilliant alongside piano and electric guitar, while the drums remain inspired. “Why should I care / If I got to cut my hair? / I got to move with the fashion / Or be outcast. / I know I should fight / But my old man he’s really alright, / And I’m still living at home / (Even though it won’t last.)” So here we have a teenager under his parents’ yoke. The pace picks up for the chorus, as a synthesizer starts to sing like strings. “Zoot suit, white jacket with side vents / Five inches long. / I’m out on the street again / And I’m leaping along. / I’m dressed right for a beachfight, / But I just can’t explain / Why that uncertain feeling is still / Here in my brain.” Ah, the dilemmas of youth. I read this as Jimmy finding himself among peers doing something rather naughty which his better self tells him isn’t what he should be doing at all. He returns to lament mode. “The kids at school / Have parents that seem so cool. / And though I don’t want to hurt them / Mine want me their way. / I clean my room and my shoes / But my mother found a box of blues, / And there doesn’t seem much hope / They’ll let me stay.” Imagine today’s parents getting away with just booting a kid out the house because they found he had drugs on him. It doesn’t work that way. The chorus is repeated before Townshend continues Jimmy’s introspection. “Why do I have to be different to them? / Just to earn the respect of a dance hall friend, / We have the same old row, again and again. / Why do I have to move with a crowd / Of kids that hardly notice I’m around, / I have to work myself to death just to fit in.” The effects of the drugs begin to wear off. “I’m coming down / Got home on the very first train from town. / My dad just left for work / He wasn’t talking. / It’s all a game, / ’Cos inside I’m just the same, / My fried egg makes me sick / First thing in the morning.” At the sound of a kettle (with whistle) coming to the boil, a voice on BBC radio news tells of fighting between Mods and Rockers at
The final track on Side 1 is The Punk And The Godfather, with Daltrey again in vocal command on a surging rock track characterized by big guitar chords echoed by the bass guitar, which again is allowed free rein. I see from the lyrics that this takes the form of a dialogue between the two protagonists, with the Punk saying: “You declared you would be three inches taller / You only became what we made you. / Thought you were chasing a destiny calling / You only earned what we gave you. / You fell and cried as our people were starving, / Now you know that we blame you. / You tried to walk on the trail we were carving, / Now you know that we framed you.” The Godfather then sings: “I’m the guy in the sky / Flying high Flashing eyes / No surprise I told lies / I’m the punk in the gutter / I’m the new president / But I grew and I bent / Don’t you know? don’t it show? / I’m the punk with the stutter. /My my my my my mmmm my my my. / GGGGG-g-g-g-g generation.” This is all a bit Greek to me, but let’s see where it heads, with the Punk now saying: “We tried to speak between lines of oration / You could only repeat what we told you. / Your axe belongs to a dying nation, / They don’t know that we own you. / You’re watching movies trying to find the feelers, / You only see what we show you. / We’re the slaves of the phony leaders / Breathe the air we have blown you.” This seems to have an Orwellian, totalitarian feel to it way beyond what I gathered Quadrophenia was all about… After the Godfather repeats that chorus, he continues: “I have to be careful not to preach / I can’t pretend that I can teach, / And yet I’ve lived your future out / By pounding stages like a clown. / And on the dance floor broken glass, / The bloody faces slowly pass, / The broken seats in empty rows, / It all belongs to me you know.” There are great harmonies near the end of a song I need to listen to far more often to really grasp it.
Side 2 opens with quiet acoustic guitar and some electronic keyboard sounds playing the soothing melody of I’m One, with Daltrey’s vocals suitably gentle. “Every year is the same / And I feel it again, / I’m a loser - no chance to win. / Leaves start falling, / Come down is calling, / Loneliness starts sinking in.” This wistful introspection continues. “But I’m one. / I am one. / And I can see / That this is me, / And I will be, / You’ll all see / I’m the one.” Now the big bass and lead guitar kick in. “Where do you get / Those blue blue jeans? / Faded patched secret so tight. / Where do you get / That walk oh so lean? / Your shoes and your shirts / All just right.” Every teenager’s been there. How come some guys just have it? Everything perfect, while you battle to be even half cool. After the “I’m one” chorus, the mood quietens. “I got a Gibson / Without a case / But I can’t get that / even tanned look on my face. /
Those big Who chords are to the fore again on The Dirty Jobs, with Daltrey again providing the vocals on a great, tight rock song. “I am a man who looks after the pigs / Usually I get along OK. / I am man who reveals all he digs, / Should be more careful what I say.” The chorus is superb. “I’m getting put down, / I’m getting pushed round, / I’m being beaten every day. / My life’s fading, / But things are changing, / I’m not gonna sit and weep again.” While I didn’t hear these verses at the time, had I done so, the irony of the next verse would not have been lost on someone living in apartheid
Helpless Dancer introduces us to a recurrent melody, daa-da-daa, daa-da-daa, as piano and horns and strummed acoustic guitar set the stage for a vehement Daltrey. “When a man is running from his boss / Who holds a gun that fires ‘cost’ / And people die from being cold / Or left alone because they’re old / And bombs are dropped on fighting cats / And children’s dreams are run with rats / If you complain you disappear / Just like the lesbians and queers.” It is another dystopian, Orwellian scenario. The mood is severe, intense, with two voices sometimes reinforcing the message. “No one can love without the grace / Of some unseen and distant face / And you get beaten up by blacks / Who though they worked still got the sack / And when your soul tells you to hide / Your very right to die denied / And in the battle on the streets / You fight computers and receipts / And when a man is trying to change / But only causes further pain / You realize that all along / Something in us going wrong.” After this litany of woe amidst roiling notes and charging chords, he concludes: “You stop dancing.”
“I see a man without a problem / I see a country always starved, / I hear the music of a heartbeat, / I walk, and people turn and laugh.” Daltrey is at his best as Is It In My Head gets under way, with acoustic guitar, piano and bass prominent. The chorus is typically melodious. “Is it in my head / Is it in my head / Is in my head here at the start? / Is it in my head / Is it in my head / Is it in my head, or in my heart?” The next verse continues the existential journey. “I pick up phones and hear my history. / I dream of all the calls I miss. / I try to number those who love me, / And find exactly what the trouble is.” After the next chorus, with the electronic sounds broiling alongside great lead and acoustic guitar, the next verse. “I feel I’m being followed, / My head is empty / Yet every word I say turns out a sentence. / Statements to a stranger / Just asking for directions / Turn from being help to being questions.” Then, from this despairing position, he concludes with the observation that out there, someone is not battling along. “I see a man without a problem.”
Big bass and drums bolster fast-paced Who chords, as I’ve Had Enough concludes Side 2. This is heavy rock, with Daltrey again providing those impressive vocals. “You were under the impression / That when you were walking forward / You’d end up further onward / But things ain’t quite that simple.” These songs are far better viewed as entities in their own right than part of a grand opera. “You got altered information / You were told to not take chances / You missed out on new dances / Now you’re losing all your dimples.” It was all about image for the youth, probably always has been. “My jacket’s gonna be cut and slim and checked, / Maybe a touch of seersucker, with an open neck. / I ride a G S scooter with my hair cut neat, / Wear my wartime coat in the wind and sleet.” At this point the Townshend magic starts to work, as the mood quietens and the synthesizer comes to the fore. “Love Reign O’er
Side 2 sees Jimmy on the 5:15 heading back to
Then, it seems we’re back at
Drowned starts with typical big Who chords, with the piano again prominent. “There are men high up there fishing, / Haven’t seen quite enough of the world, / I ain’t seen a sign of my hero, / And I’m still diving down for pearls.” Daltrey gives this great rock song the full treatment, as the chorus adds impetus. “Let me flow into the ocean, / Let me get back to the sea. / Let me be stormy and let me be calm, / Let the tide in, and set me free.” As usual, the bass is superb. But the song slows with piano and a lead solo heralding the next verse. “I’m flowing under bridges, / Then flying through the sky, / I’m travelling down cold metal / Just a tear in baby’s eye.” After the chorus, the mood changes again. “I am not the actor / This can’t be the scene / But I am in the water, / As far as I can see...” They say drowning is a not-unpleasant way to go – though it is suffocation and that is horrible. Still, here it seems like the drowning man is seeing his life pass before him. “I’m remembering distant memories / Recalling other names. / Rippling over canyons, / And boiling in the train.” A new melody kicks in near the end, with strong brass notes and electronic sounds which seem to squeeze and squirt. The lyrics I downloaded don’t contain the spoken words as the song unwinds. Things like “Set me free!” and “I want to drown in cold water”. Piano, drums and lead guitar are finally drowned by the sound of waves and seagulls.
And so finally he finds his old mate, working now as a bell boy at a local hotel. The song starts with the sound of waves and a guy walking along singing. Then those big drums and guitar chords kick in, alongside beautiful strummed acoustic guitar. “The beach is a place where a man can feel / He’s the only soul in the world that’s real, / Well I see a face coming through the haze, / I remember him from those crazy days.” It is Daltrey at his finest. “Ain’t you the guy who used to set the paces / Riding up in front of a hundred faces, / I don’t suppose you would remember me, / But I used to follow you back in sixty three.” Then disillusionment as his one-time hero, with thick Cockney accent, speaks his reply. “I’ve got a good job / And I’m newly born. / You should see me dressed up in my uniform./ I work in hotel all gilt and flash. / Remember the place where the doors were smashed?” His job is summed up in the haste of the chorus. “
We loved the opening track on Side 4, Doctor Jimmy, which starts with a storm, literally, as the wind howls at the seaside and thunder rolls. There are big chords as Daltrey unpacks the lyrics. “Laugh and say I’m green / I’ve seen things you’ll never see. / Talk behind my back / But I’m off the beaten track. / I’ll take on anyone / Ain’t scared of a bloody nose, / Drink till I drop down / With one eye on my clothes.” This is hard-arsed bovver talk. The chorus is sickeningly aggressive. “What is it? I’ll take it. / Who is she? / I’ll rape it. / Got a bet there? I’ll meet it. / Getting High? You can’t beat it.” This, which has echoes of Tommy (we forsake you, gonna rape you) is followed by the catchy: “Doctor Jimmy and mister Jim / When I’m pilled you don’t notice him, / He only comes out when I drink my gin.” Then things get a trifle below the belt. “You say she’s a virgin. / I’m gonna be the first in. / Her fellah’s gonna kill me? / Oh fucking will he. / I’m seeing double / But don’t miss me if you can. / There’s gonna be trouble / When she choses her man.” The chorus is then repeated. But to appreciate this you must hear the incredible electronic sounds, the extraordinary drumming and the way Townshend varies the song from full-tilt rock to a sparse sound comprising just keyboards, drum rolls and vocals. It is a little masterpiece, on a par with the best that the Beatles did. And it also momentarily summons up other passages as the mood mellows: “Is it me? For a moment / The stars are falling. / The heat is rising / The past is calling.” Then, with cymbals sneering and snare drum snarling, the final verse. “I’m going back soon / Home to get the baboon. / Who cut up my eye, / Messed up my
This work, all 8:42 minutes of it, then seques into the second and final instrumental, The Rock, which runs to 6:37 minutes. It is another of those Townshend creations which never bore one and indeed suck you deep into their hearts. The surf again surges alongside slow piano. It morphs into a thumping good rock track, replete with weird electric sounds and icy lead guitar. The same melody – daa-da-daa-da-daa – is repeated, before the song speeds up, with lead guitar, piano, drums and bass surging ahead. This general pattern is repeated in a blaze of musical glory before the rain moves in and quashes all, setting the scene for the denouement, the final track, Love, Reign O’ver Me.
This is probably the closest Townshend got to composing a rock anthem. This song has such wonderful gravitas, such incredible poise and purpose. It opens with big, bold piano notes and then some superb drum rolls by Moon, whose ability to slash at cymbals at the same time always amazes. Any way this wonderful bit of virtuoso musicianship culminates in that memorable opening stanza. “Only love / Can bring the rain / That makes you yearn to the sky. / Only love / Can bring the rain / That falls like tears from on high.” That solo violin, which is probably a synthesizer, keeps an ethereal mood as the song builds up to that formidable Daltrey outburst: “Love Reign O’er me.” This is accompanied by a great stream of descending notes and chords, as Daltrey shows he can hit the highest notes with ease. “On the dry and dusty road / The nights we spend apart alone / I need to get back home to cool cool rain.” That sense of teenage angst persists. “The nights are hot and black as ink / I can’t sleep and I lay and I think / Oh God, I need a drink of cool cool rain.” And isn’t that a nice touch? A drink, not of alcohol, but good old rain water. The band then again builds the song up to another “Love reign o’er me” crescendo, with the acoustic guitar an integral part of the sound package. Fittingly, it ends with a monstrous Who chords barrage.
I know the 2003 Rolling Stone magazine list of the 500 greatest albums is a subjective one, but I do find it strange that this only achieved No 266. Not as accessible as Tommy perhaps, I do believe nonetheless that it is a greater work than Tommy simply because it finds Townshend at his most sophisticated as a songwriter and lyricist. Perhaps the realism of the concept counted against it. This was the antithesis of the escapism most of us wanted at the time, which is probably why we, as teenagers, never really bothered to come to grips with its deeper meaning. I certainly did not even hear about the 1979 film by the same name, which included three more Townshend songs. I would probably have been stuck in the SA Defence Force at the time as a conscript. Wikipedia says the film is an “accurate visual interpretation” of Jimmy’s story, but adds that the “inspired casting of a very young Sting as the Ace Face remains one of the most memorable moments of the film”. Bizarrely, Wikipedia adds that in the film the music was “largely relegated to the background, and not performed by the cast as if a rock opera”.
And, had I been living in
Looking at the list of what each musician played on the original album, it is noticeable that Townshend dominated matters, playing guitars, synthesizers, piano, banjo, sound effects, vocals and special effects. Chris Stainton contributed piano on Dirty Jobs, Helpless Dancer, 5:15 and Drowned, while the news was read by John Curle.
And that was about that for me. As noted earlier, I never did get into their seminal The Who by Numbers, and hope to do so at some point in the future. But these are the albums which “made” the Who, and I just happened to have been one of the multitude of receptive teenagers who fell under their spell. They remain, for me, among the greatest albums in the history of rock.
1 comment:
I blog too, I often wondered if our blogs are open to the public viewing, now I know..this was very well written on 'the who'..good show! learned some new facts, hey we are both 56'ers...lol
my blog is life-in-barrie-ontario.blogspot.com
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