Recorded In 1970 At The Isle Of Wight, The Who's Legendary Performance Was Finally Issued In 1996
It may sound incredible – nay, it is incredible – but a live rendering of Tommy by the original lineup was not released until this double album was issued in 1996. The one landmark live disc by the band bypassed Tommy almost entirely. And the one “official” release that had a full performance was as diluted as it could ever possible be – it was part of the “Join Together” box set, with a trillion guest chirping in and a backing band as huge as to render the three surviving members irrelevant.
That was the reason everybody flocked to this when it was issued in 1996. We all had our appetites whetted the previous year, as a video of the performance was released by Murray Lerner. Although it was not the full performance, it sufficed to send everybody counting the days until a live CD was issued. And we didn’t have to wait that long, fortunately. Continue reading →
"The Kids Are Alright" Was Directed By Super-fan Jeff Stein. Its Theatrical Release Was In 1979.
The music of The Who came from them being one of the truly unique ensembles in the history of music. If there was ever a band with a million tales to tell, it was them. The way those guys were together and constantly at odds was something that their music did not necessarily convey, until one (correctly) interpreted the outrageous volume as a telltale of bottled emotions and anger. But there was also enormous love and belief lying at the heart of it all. And that was something which just had to be told.
“The Kids Are Alright” (1979) was assembled with that objective in mind. The idea was to show what made the band so distinctive, and why it was that their fans were so loyal. The movie itself (directed by a then-young Jeff Stein, and released shortly after Keith Moon died) achieved that aim, but only in a certain sense: it captured their offstage irreverence in full flight by the inclusion of interviews and specials that were shot through the years. Continue reading →
The "Tommy" Movie Saw Release In 1975. Ken Russell Directed It, And He Modified Several Key Aspects Of The Plot.
An absolute abomination of a movie, “Tommy” (1975) was directed by the ever-controversial Ken Russell. That was the director Pete Townshend actually wanted owing to his artistic background. Pete also thought having Ken along for the ride would free him for having to explain the story ever and ever again, but he was wrong – Russell needed him no less than any other director that the band and (specially) their managers had approached for years on end to get this thing together.
In any case, Ken was to rewrite the whole story, and a major shift took place, as Tommy’s drama was situated outside his family (the lover kills the father here, rather than the other way around) and the film mainly revolves around the attempt to market and sell the deaf, dumb and blind boy’s vision to the world. In other words: Ken Russell’s Tommy is the original work without any innocence or magic. I could barely enjoy the original album, and the little appreciation I had for it stemmed from those two attributes. I don’t need to tell you how much I suffered through the entire running time of this travesty of a movie. Continue reading →
The songs on The Who’s final record with Kenny Jones have a distinctive characteristic: many were written “to order” by Pete. That is, Roger and John requested that certain issues were touched upon and that is why we have a song about the health system (“Cook’s County”) and one about war (“I’ve Known No War”). These work in tandem with John’s “Dangerous”, about urban violence and security.
“Cook’s County” has the sad merit of being hailed by fans as one of the worst songs ever recorded by the band. The other is “Armenia, City In The Sky”, though to be fair that one was penned by Pete’s chauffeur at the time, Speedy Keene. ”I’ve Known No War” is better as it has a longer running time in which motifs are established and both the instruments and the vocals peak, culminating in an orchestrated fade.
The title track was actually reworked from an opera of Pete about each person being a soul under siege, and it has some mixed wordplay. But it is mostly compelling when taken as a whole. Continue reading →
Three years after Keith Moon had passed away, Pete must have been regretting they ever carried on. His attitude had changed for sure, as he began pumping out solo releases which in hindsight were to be the place to turn to if you were looking for The Who’s zest. Because The “New” Who on record and The “New” Who on stage were completely different entities.
Live, Kenny had to replicate Keith’s arrangements, and he was quite capable of doing that (they never, ever did “Happy Jack” with Kenny, though). As a studio drummer, it was a different story. He could drum excitingly enough for any band (“You Better You Bet” and “Daily Records” are clear examples), but nobody could ever hold a torch to Keith’s inventive performances in the studio. That wasn’t Kenny’s fault, certainly. And to be fair, Keith could never have played military drums like the former Small Faces drummer did on “Cry If You Want”. But he was under so much pressure and attention that it must have been unbearable. And Roger was hostile to him from day one. Continue reading →
Face Dances is a record which can be described very easily: it is an album of rock songs that have been produced and treated as if they were pop tunes. That certainly posed a problem for many fans that were expecting another Who’s Next, yet they were more or less appeased by the lead single, “You Better You Bet”. That song alone revived a lot of interest in the band, and it was to be their last stronghold in terms of chart performance. The other single was “Another Tricky Day”, and both the two singles and the poppy “Don’t Let Go The Coat” had some weird accompanying promos where the tempos were all sped up (!). I am not kidding:
Ah, “Don’t Let Go The Coat”. That was one of the very first Who tracks I listened to, actually, and I must say that it has an incredible catchy quality. The song deals with Pete’s faith on Meher Baba – the Avatar had once instructed his followers to “grab to the hem of my robe”. It is traditionally regarded as one of Pete’s most charming songs on the subject (and he wrote quite a few tunes about that), and while some have misgivings about Roger’s interpretation I couldn’t disagree more. He does the song splendidly, reaching the climax during the middle eight and ad libbing excellently during the fade. If you want to listen to Pete’s own take you have to go for the first album devoted to rarities he released, “Scoop”. Different interpretations, same great song and same great way to communicate faith on life in general, not just faith when it comes to a single person or leader. Continue reading →
The Cover Of The Who's Face Dances Was Devised By Peter Blake (He Who Designed The Cover Of Sgt. Pepper's). He Approached 15 DIfferent Artists To Paint The Canvasses You Can See.
After the loss of Keith Moon, The Who decided to take the one gamble that was left and carry on the best way they could, in loving memory of Keith and in loving memory of all the ideals they had stood for. Was “the best way” recruiting former Faces compadre Kenny Jones? That is debatable ad infinitum, of course. On the one hand, Jones was a strict time keeper. He was the polar opposite of Keith, and that was one of the reasons he was chosen as his successor, actually. Pete declined Ginger Baker’s offer to be their new drummer if only because he was as troublesome a character as Moon. Also, John relished having the chance to have a less frantic drummer setting the beat for a change. They first had worked with Kenny during the Tommy soundtrack, and they had gotten along with him well professionally. And they had known him on a personal level for much longer, obviously.
The one person that definitely opposed to Kenny’s addition as a full-time member of the band was Roger. He was keener on rotating drummers until arriving at the suitable one. Pete claimed that such a thing would turn everything into “a pilgrimage to find Keith”, and that is why Kenny was eventually instated as their new (and definitive) drummer. Continue reading →
Keith Moon Playing The "Pictures Of Lily" Drum Kit
Was there ever a band in which each individual member was more irreplaceable than The Who? I frankly don’t think so. As such, their decision to carry on when Keith Moon died in 1978 must stand as one of the most debatable in the history of rock & roll. People often claim they did it for the money, and that was it. But there were a couple of aspects which should not be dismissed out of hand.
First thing first – by that point The Who were far more than 4 friends who gathered together to play on weekends. They employed more than 40 individuals on the whole. They had a recording studio, a fleet of trucks, their endless roadies… They were not exactly a corporation, but they were quite close. If they had disbanded then, that would have been a considerable number of people on the dole again.
A parallel is drawn with John Bonham’s death in 1980. When that happened, Zeppelin disbanded immediately. Pete Townshed said there was no comparison – Zeppelin was in a very active schedule when that happened, whereas The Who were semi-dormant. But it is clear that The Who might have come across as betrayers more markedly because of Zeppelin’s decision. Continue reading →
The Cover Of Who Are You Has True Tragic Relevance - Keith Moon Was To Die Shortly Before The Album Was Released
The final Who album featuring Keith Moon is a mostly distinguished way for the original lineup to bow out, although there are many particularities that make the LP a disc like no other within their catalog. First thing first: Moon has lost a great deal of ability, to the point that he couldn’t play “Music Must Change” (Pete’s footsteps set the basic rhythm). He does manage to drum adequately enough on “Sister Disco” and the popular title track. He also puts up a sparky performance all through “Guitar And Pen”. But his magic skills and touch are missing.
In second place, Pete emphasizes notes over chords for the first time in their career. That doesn’t make the album any better or worse than other Who offerings. It just makes it a bit peculiar. And structurally speaking, he has Roger sing a recitative lyric on “Guitar And Pen”. The one song in which they had done this before was “Helpless Dancer“, only that the vocal is far, far campier this time around. “Helpless Dancer” was notably more measured and (if you wish) less theatrical.
Besides, out of 9 songs only six are penned by Pete. The remaining three come from an aborted opera John had tried to assemble (“905” and “Had Enough”), while he serves up the loud “Trick Of The Light” (about a man falling in love with a prostitute). But this time around, he lets Roger take the lead. He only sings “905”. He would sing “Trick Of The Light” live, though:
The main value of this album is the actual content of the songs, as the lyrics deal with artists and their never ending struggle to remain evergreen and motivating to those who follow them. This is evident on “Guitar And Pen” (“never spend your guitar and your pen”), “New Song” (“we sing the same old song with a few new lines/and everybody wants to cheer it”) and the ambitious “Music Must Change”.
John Entwistle Drew The Cartoon. Try Connecting The Dots - It Works!
In the ’70s, music was characterized by an inner conflict that tore at ideals and hurled them against the blackest confines of the human psyche. As a seeker of truth, Pete Townshend surely would have a lot to say. The Who was always – always – there in times of need. The album The Who were to release after Quadrophenia was to expose Pete’s vulnerabilities like nothing else. It was him who needed someone. And the horrible realization that he was not finding that person or people within his band was what listeners were to come across on “The Who By Numbers”.
The setting in which the album was conceived was as troublesome as the ones in which “Who’s Next” and “Quadrophenia” came to the world. This time, Roger and Pete were playing verbal ping pong on the press, and their views on The Who (as entertainers and as artists) were never painted in such black and white terms before or since.
Pete’s already-manifested impression that the band was caricaturing itself had entrenched by this point. His new set of songs dealt with that in a tortured way. The one jovial tune on offer was to be “Squeeze Box”. It was to become a Top 20 hit, in fact. That was certainly disheartening – something truly akin to another brick in the wall of vacuity.
A sense of futility populates the album: Pete questions the relationships with his fans and friends at every turn, and the facades he always studied were becoming far, far too brittle. Everybody could see through disguises by this point. Continue reading →
