Essay
Eamon Murphy
Football fans tuning in to this year’s Super Bowl Half Time Show can still expect fireworks (both literally and figuratively) from a band long seen by many as a contender for the greatest rock act of all time.
The cover shot of their debut album depicts the band standing around London docks, surrounded by barrels of propane, potentially a very explosive gas.
Intentional or not, it’s a fine metaphor for the reputation The Who had by that point created for themselves as a live act. The fans who packed the Railway Hotel in Harrow for their weekly performances in 1964 knew that sparks, and more, were gonna fly.
Already basking in an infamy garnered by purposefully trashing their own equipment on stage, the emergence of the album My Generation established the band as not just volatile live performers, but as an act that could hold their own in the studio too. The mix of Pete Townshend originals and blues standards did well on the charts and met with decent reviews, but has since been re-appraised as one of the most important albums of the decade, even being occasionally credited as an early catalyst for punk.
Their destructive live spectaculars quickly became a habit which kept them deep in debt until the success of 1969’s Tommy, but rarely stopped them from giving their fans the show they had come to expect.
It’s ironic then that the first incidence of Townshend smashing his guitar was in fact accidental. While raising his Rickenbacker above his head during one gig in 1964, he disregarded the venue’s low roof, and put the neck through the ceiling. Less temperamental musicians might have blushingly acknowledged their mistake. Townshend smashed the remainder to pieces, before picking up the nearest replacement and continuing as if he’d planned the entire thing. Word spread about the lunatic guitarist who purposefully broke his axe (and his drummer who trashed his kit at the end of the show), and suddenly the band had a large expectant following at the Railway every Tuesday night.
It was their stage show, along with the robust power chords and potent lyrics on songs like ‘My Generation’ and ‘I Can’t Explain’ that earned them the role as a voice of their generation, leading the Los Angeles Times to write a couple of years later that the band "rivaled The Beatles, Bob Dylan and The Rolling Stones as the most vital rock voice of youth”.
And even if the band no longer smash their equipment as a regular party trick, football fans tuning in to this year’s Super Bowl Half Time Show can still expect fireworks (both literally and figuratively) from a band long seen by many as a contender for the greatest rock act of all time.
Pushing the boundaries of Mod
On this point, their back catalogue speaks for itself. The aforementioned Tommy may not have been the first concept album in rock n’ roll, or even the first produced by a band with mod roots. But The Who took the idea of what a record could deal with to a level unimagined by either The Small Faces or The Kinks. Townshend’s rock opera about a deaf, dumb and blind pinball player was, in musical terms, epoch making. It also marked a shift in direction for the band, from releasing albums as a collection of unlinked songs to the working idea that a record should consist of songs on a connected theme, and was the first of a run of records from the band that would retrospectively be regarded amongst the greatest pieces of music ever released.
It was followed in 1970 by Live At Leeds, long regarded by critics and fans alike as one of the greatest live albums ever released, if not the greatest. Originally comprising of six songs from their performance at Leeds University, 1995 saw the release of a Deluxe Edition of the album, featuring the entire 33 song performance that included a complete performance of Tommy. It is thanks to this remarkable re-release that we can fully appreciate the capabilities of the band at their peak. It’s The Who at their primitive best.
The follow up album, Who’s Next, began life as the ‘Lifehouse’ project, a concept album set in a dystopian future where “people are controlled by compulsory connection to a national grid of pipelines and cables” which provide all man’s basic needs.
Confused? So was everybody else.
The project was eventually abandoned, due to a concept and plot so complicated that even Townshend’s closest allies struggled to understand it. But eight of the songs from the sessions were released as an album, along with an unrelated composition by John Entwistle (‘My Wife’). Simply put, the final product is outstanding, and at the time was unprecedented in rock music. In ‘Baba O’Riley’ and ‘Behind Blue Eyes’, it features two milestones in rock history, and two songs that have been covered by admirers from Pearl Jam and Fred Durst to the Blue Man Group. In 2003, Rolling Stone magazine named Who’s Next the 28th Greatest Album of All Time. It also features one song almost sure to feature at Dolphin Stadium. ‘Wont Get Fooled Again’, a song about repeated and failed revolution, new leaders replacing old, but no changes eventualizing. “There's nothing in the street looks any different to me. And the slogans are replaced, by-the-bye”.
Lead singer Roger Daltrey remarked in 2004 that “the song speaks volumes and always will…. That song hasn’t lost any of its power or its meaning”. In 2010, it’s still hard to argue against this.
The Who By Members
If there’s any shame in the approaching appearance in Miami, it’s that it has taken until now for the NFL to throw the band this showcase opportunity. John Entwistle’s death in 2002 robbed the group of the final original part of its rhythm section, and the music world of one of rock music’s most revered bassists. The Who was one of those rare bands where in spite of the dominance of one member (in this case, Pete Townshend with his songwriting abilities and creative leadership), each band member is musically speaking as important and impressive as the others.
More unique and recognizable even than Entwistle’s heavy pounding riffs was the rhythmic styles of Keith Moon. In Moon, The Who had a percussionist who played drums as if they were a lead instrument. Listening to some of the group’s earliest material, it is often the percussion that most grabs ones attention, and those records are worth listening to for Moon’s drumming alone. His ability to play as if continually on the verge of losing the beat, without ever actually doing so, is astonishing.
It’s well known in the annals of rock that a certain session musician by the name of Jimmy Page was present at the The Who’s first recording session, just in case Townshend couldn’t cut it in the studio. They needn’t have worried. By the end of the decade, the Who maestro was being talked of in the same revered tones as Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck, Keith Richards and Page himself in the pantheon of great British guitarists. It’s a place he has retained to this day. Expect to see his trademark windmill strumming style (first appropriated from Richards when Townshend watched the Stones axe-man warming up backstage before a gig) being showcased at Super Bowl XLIV.
And in Townshend, the early Who had a creative maverick the equal of any working in Britain then or since. Tommy, the abandoned idea for the Lifehouse project, and Quadrophenia stand testament to the genius of a man for whom the rapid perfection of the 3 minute pop song was never the extent of his musical ambitions, even if this was at odds with the wishes of some fans. When ‘I Can See For Miles’ barely scraped into the UK Top 10 in late 1967, Townshend said “To me it was the ultimate Who record, yet it didn't sell. I spat on the British record buyer.” Of the release of Tommy into the post-Sgt. Pepper 1960s, he later commented “I felt that if I had to say everything on a record in three minutes maximum, then I wasn’t ever really going to say very much”. He was working in an era of innovation and virtuosity, but still managed to stand out and to get his message to the masses.
And finally, Roger Daltrey. With the exception of Jagger, Daltrey was the ultimate frontman of the era. The attitude and swagger with which he delivered Who classics and blues covers alike fit perfectly with his tough man image (in the 60s and 70s he regularly came to blows with fans and bandmates alike), and it is down to Daltrey more than anyone else that the band earned themselves the label The ‘Orrible ‘Oo.
And so to Sunday. There are many, I’m sure, who’ll tell you that watching a pair of 60-something year olds take the stage to belt out songs about ‘My Generation’ and social revolution is, well, just a little hypocritical. Daltrey himself has in recent times managed to embrace the lyrics with a sense of irony. The Daltrey of the 1960s spat out the immortal “I hope I die before I get old”. That may be the ‘Oo of 40 years ago, but be grateful that 2 of them, at least, haven’t yet.
Miami is in for a treat.
Intentional or not, it’s a fine metaphor for the reputation The Who had by that point created for themselves as a live act. The fans who packed the Railway Hotel in Harrow for their weekly performances in 1964 knew that sparks, and more, were gonna fly.
Already basking in an infamy garnered by purposefully trashing their own equipment on stage, the emergence of the album My Generation established the band as not just volatile live performers, but as an act that could hold their own in the studio too. The mix of Pete Townshend originals and blues standards did well on the charts and met with decent reviews, but has since been re-appraised as one of the most important albums of the decade, even being occasionally credited as an early catalyst for punk.
Their destructive live spectaculars quickly became a habit which kept them deep in debt until the success of 1969’s Tommy, but rarely stopped them from giving their fans the show they had come to expect.
It’s ironic then that the first incidence of Townshend smashing his guitar was in fact accidental. While raising his Rickenbacker above his head during one gig in 1964, he disregarded the venue’s low roof, and put the neck through the ceiling. Less temperamental musicians might have blushingly acknowledged their mistake. Townshend smashed the remainder to pieces, before picking up the nearest replacement and continuing as if he’d planned the entire thing. Word spread about the lunatic guitarist who purposefully broke his axe (and his drummer who trashed his kit at the end of the show), and suddenly the band had a large expectant following at the Railway every Tuesday night.
It was their stage show, along with the robust power chords and potent lyrics on songs like ‘My Generation’ and ‘I Can’t Explain’ that earned them the role as a voice of their generation, leading the Los Angeles Times to write a couple of years later that the band "rivaled The Beatles, Bob Dylan and The Rolling Stones as the most vital rock voice of youth”.
And even if the band no longer smash their equipment as a regular party trick, football fans tuning in to this year’s Super Bowl Half Time Show can still expect fireworks (both literally and figuratively) from a band long seen by many as a contender for the greatest rock act of all time.
Pushing the boundaries of Mod
On this point, their back catalogue speaks for itself. The aforementioned Tommy may not have been the first concept album in rock n’ roll, or even the first produced by a band with mod roots. But The Who took the idea of what a record could deal with to a level unimagined by either The Small Faces or The Kinks. Townshend’s rock opera about a deaf, dumb and blind pinball player was, in musical terms, epoch making. It also marked a shift in direction for the band, from releasing albums as a collection of unlinked songs to the working idea that a record should consist of songs on a connected theme, and was the first of a run of records from the band that would retrospectively be regarded amongst the greatest pieces of music ever released.
It was followed in 1970 by Live At Leeds, long regarded by critics and fans alike as one of the greatest live albums ever released, if not the greatest. Originally comprising of six songs from their performance at Leeds University, 1995 saw the release of a Deluxe Edition of the album, featuring the entire 33 song performance that included a complete performance of Tommy. It is thanks to this remarkable re-release that we can fully appreciate the capabilities of the band at their peak. It’s The Who at their primitive best.
The follow up album, Who’s Next, began life as the ‘Lifehouse’ project, a concept album set in a dystopian future where “people are controlled by compulsory connection to a national grid of pipelines and cables” which provide all man’s basic needs.
Confused? So was everybody else.
The project was eventually abandoned, due to a concept and plot so complicated that even Townshend’s closest allies struggled to understand it. But eight of the songs from the sessions were released as an album, along with an unrelated composition by John Entwistle (‘My Wife’). Simply put, the final product is outstanding, and at the time was unprecedented in rock music. In ‘Baba O’Riley’ and ‘Behind Blue Eyes’, it features two milestones in rock history, and two songs that have been covered by admirers from Pearl Jam and Fred Durst to the Blue Man Group. In 2003, Rolling Stone magazine named Who’s Next the 28th Greatest Album of All Time. It also features one song almost sure to feature at Dolphin Stadium. ‘Wont Get Fooled Again’, a song about repeated and failed revolution, new leaders replacing old, but no changes eventualizing. “There's nothing in the street looks any different to me. And the slogans are replaced, by-the-bye”.
Lead singer Roger Daltrey remarked in 2004 that “the song speaks volumes and always will…. That song hasn’t lost any of its power or its meaning”. In 2010, it’s still hard to argue against this.
The Who By Members
If there’s any shame in the approaching appearance in Miami, it’s that it has taken until now for the NFL to throw the band this showcase opportunity. John Entwistle’s death in 2002 robbed the group of the final original part of its rhythm section, and the music world of one of rock music’s most revered bassists. The Who was one of those rare bands where in spite of the dominance of one member (in this case, Pete Townshend with his songwriting abilities and creative leadership), each band member is musically speaking as important and impressive as the others.
More unique and recognizable even than Entwistle’s heavy pounding riffs was the rhythmic styles of Keith Moon. In Moon, The Who had a percussionist who played drums as if they were a lead instrument. Listening to some of the group’s earliest material, it is often the percussion that most grabs ones attention, and those records are worth listening to for Moon’s drumming alone. His ability to play as if continually on the verge of losing the beat, without ever actually doing so, is astonishing.
It’s well known in the annals of rock that a certain session musician by the name of Jimmy Page was present at the The Who’s first recording session, just in case Townshend couldn’t cut it in the studio. They needn’t have worried. By the end of the decade, the Who maestro was being talked of in the same revered tones as Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck, Keith Richards and Page himself in the pantheon of great British guitarists. It’s a place he has retained to this day. Expect to see his trademark windmill strumming style (first appropriated from Richards when Townshend watched the Stones axe-man warming up backstage before a gig) being showcased at Super Bowl XLIV.
And in Townshend, the early Who had a creative maverick the equal of any working in Britain then or since. Tommy, the abandoned idea for the Lifehouse project, and Quadrophenia stand testament to the genius of a man for whom the rapid perfection of the 3 minute pop song was never the extent of his musical ambitions, even if this was at odds with the wishes of some fans. When ‘I Can See For Miles’ barely scraped into the UK Top 10 in late 1967, Townshend said “To me it was the ultimate Who record, yet it didn't sell. I spat on the British record buyer.” Of the release of Tommy into the post-Sgt. Pepper 1960s, he later commented “I felt that if I had to say everything on a record in three minutes maximum, then I wasn’t ever really going to say very much”. He was working in an era of innovation and virtuosity, but still managed to stand out and to get his message to the masses.
And finally, Roger Daltrey. With the exception of Jagger, Daltrey was the ultimate frontman of the era. The attitude and swagger with which he delivered Who classics and blues covers alike fit perfectly with his tough man image (in the 60s and 70s he regularly came to blows with fans and bandmates alike), and it is down to Daltrey more than anyone else that the band earned themselves the label The ‘Orrible ‘Oo.
And so to Sunday. There are many, I’m sure, who’ll tell you that watching a pair of 60-something year olds take the stage to belt out songs about ‘My Generation’ and social revolution is, well, just a little hypocritical. Daltrey himself has in recent times managed to embrace the lyrics with a sense of irony. The Daltrey of the 1960s spat out the immortal “I hope I die before I get old”. That may be the ‘Oo of 40 years ago, but be grateful that 2 of them, at least, haven’t yet.
Miami is in for a treat.
