(Personal reflections inspired by Who songs)
Song: “Long Live Rock”
Album: Odds and Sods
Release Date: October,
1974
Last month
before the Boston Who concert (see Big Top # 11: “A Who Concert Review: The Last Who-rah”), Dave and I briefly discussed the Who’s first
four studio albums, My Generation, A
Quick One, The Who Sell Out and Tommy,
marveling at the rapid evolution of the band’s sound from album to album. Ours ears hear no repetition from disc to
disc, and no overlap (even Bob Dylan overlaps his music, although I think it’s
intentional). I’ve pondered our discussion
since then, and decided that this evolution of sound should also be projected through
their next four studio albums as well: Who’s Next, Quadrophenia, Who by Numbers
and Who Are You (and if someone
wanted to make the case for their ninth studio effort, Face Dances - at least parts of it - I’d hear them out). Which begs the question: What accounts for
this? After all, that’s quite a stretch
of albums and time (15 years) to continually evolve your sound.
Aside from
the fact that they were one of the all-time great bands, the answer lies on the
cutting room floor as well as in the intervals between albums. For every great song the Who released on
their studio albums, they either rejected another, or released it as a non-album
single. With the exception of Bob Dylan,
no other rock act I can think of did this to the degree that the Who did. The Rolling Stones did release the occasional
non-album single: “Dandelion”, “Honky
Tonk Woman” and “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” come to mind (and they did have an abundance of extra material for Exile on Main Street). So did the Beatles with songs like “Penny
Lane”, “All You Need Is Love” and “Strawberry Fields Forever”. But a vast majority of the songs of both these
band’s made it onto their studio albums, with a precious few left on the
shelf. Same goes for Neil Young, the
Kinks, R.E.M., U2, Elvis Costello and Bruce Springsteen.
Compare this
to the Who’s non-studio-album output: “Anyway Anyhow, Anywhere”, “I Can’t
Explain”, “The Kids Are Alright”, “I’m a Boy”, “Substitute”, “Disguises”, “Picture
of Lily”, “Magic Bus”, “Pure and Easy”, “Long Live Rock”, “The Seeker”, “Join
Together”, “Put the Money Down”, “Water”, “Faith in Something Bigger”, “Naked
Eye”, “Let’s See Action”, “Heaven and Hell”, “Relay”…..and on and on. This is a treasure trove of songs, upon which
the Who could have rested their laurels on alone. It is a significant and
unique aspect to this band’s story. ** Side
Note: This fact has also made it a bit harder for me to prepare for some of
these Big Top entries, seeing as many
of my thoughts come together by listening to album-oriented music. I’ve had to break from that routine this year
as I absolutely cannot ignore at least a handful of these singular gems for this
series (including this week’s choice), and the only way to do that is by listening
to compilation albums, which don’t have the potential for profundity that
studio albums have.
The 1974
compilation album Odds and Sods was
one of the first Who efforts to dive back into their scrap heap (one big reason
they did this was to thwart bootleg releases at the time). Odds
and Sods is a classic cross section of the band’s back-catalog to that
date. Prior to this album’s release,
none of the songs on it had seen the light of day. Some of the most memorable are “I’m the Face”
(an ode to Mods from 1964 when the band called themselves “The Detours”);
“Little Billy” (which would have been the perfect FDA advertisement against the
perils of smoking); “Postcard” (a John Entwistle real-life narrative about
touring, which has nice in-the-mix musical touches for each country - for
example the Oom-pah tuba effect for Germany); and “Pure and Easy” (amazingly
left off of Who’s Next).
Aside from this week, there were only
a couple of other times in my life where I really got into this album. One of them just happened to be right at the
time when I met my wife-to-be Nancy. Many
of you have heard the story, but for the sake of this entry it bears a nutshell
repeating:
If you have ever watched the half-baked
comedy, What’s up, Doc?, starring
Barbara Streisand, Ryan O’Neil, and multiple identical briefcases, you have a
good analogy as to how Nancy and I met.
College buddy Kurt had invited me to a Halloween Party in
Winchester. I decided last minute to go,
but had no idea what to go as. Mom came
up with the idea of a Mad Scientist, and helped me put together a makeshift,
elaborate costume. It was great. I packed the costume in a bag and tossed it
in the back seat of my car for the one hour drive north though Boston. Before leaving, Mom asked me to drop younger
brother Pat off at the school down the road, where he would be helping to scare
little kids in a Halloween maze. Pat’s
costume (a monster mask, yellow wig, and a ripped sheet) was packed in a bag
and tossed in the back seat next to my identical bag (you can guess where this
is going?). I drove down the road and
pulled up to the Pat’s Halloween event.
He grabbed his bag (or so he thought) and ran off.
After arriving at the party, and going
inside for a few pops, I said to Kurt, ‘get a load of my costume’. We headed back to my car and I opened the
bag. I was shocked. There was nothing in it but a yellow wig,
monster mask, and ripped sheet (until then, I was unaware of what Pat had in
his bag). I was high and dry and feeling
bad, knowing how much effort Mom had put into that costume (I was also
wondering what Pat did when he made the bag-switch discovery on his end, and later
found out he was utterly confused too).
Now, I was never the most forthcoming
of guys when it came to meeting ladies, but at that moment, all inhibitions
were out the window. I put Pat’s costume
on and transformed into a yellow-wigged alter ego of myself. Nancy was the innocent victim, unaware she was
sitting in my seat near the dance floor.
She was dressed up as an Indian girl, looking very pretty, and sitting
with one of her best friends, Madeline (who, like Kurt, remains close to us to
this day). I walked up to her and quite
out of character, insisted she dance with me.
We talked and danced the rest of the evening, yellow wig and all (Nancy
did not know my true hair color until our first date the following
weekend). The rest is history.
At one point
during that evening we drove to another venue together. I had Odds
and Sods in the tape player and unbeknownst to me, Nancy was doing a bit of
interpretation of my personality as she listened to the music. Her biggest take-home was the rarity “Now I’m
A Farmer”, which, not surprisingly, she had never heard before. Like many Who songs, there are varieties of meaning
in this song, but Nancy took the oft-repeated title-words literally. I’d already told her I was from the Rte 495
belt-town of Franklin (which Nancy also was not familiar with) and, like Kurt
when I first met him, she assumed it was just another name for ‘Hicksville’ (Winchester
and Woburn, Kurt and Nancy’s neighboring hometowns, are inside the Rte 128
belt, much closer to Boston, so from their perspective Franklin was in the
sticks. Indeed, Kurt used to introduce
me to his hometown friends thusly: “This is Pete from Frank-land, next town over
from PLAINville” ** which is all true by
the way; aside from the intentionally mispronounced twist on Franklin **).
“Now I’m a
Farmer” had apparently tipped the scales for Nancy. In other words, I must be a real country hick,
‘looking after the pigs’, along with my other farm chores. Two weeks later, when she made the drive out
to Franklin to meet my family, Nancy missed the Rte 495 exit, and kept heading West
on the Mass Pike a ways before finally pulling over at a rest area, calling
from a pay phone, and being guided to turn around. I believe she was subconsciously on her way
to the old Pioneer Valley tobacco-farming region on the Connecticut, Westfield and
Farmington Rivers.
Years later,
when we got married, I had another rare Odds
and Sods moment. Our excellent reception
band, (which it must be said for posterity, had learned an additional dozen
songs at our request) were winding down and, well knowing my taste for Who
music, put the great Odds and Sods
song “Long Live Rock” on their turntable.
Andy, the lead singer, handed me the microphone, and I proceeded to sing,
Roger Daltrey and Pete Townshend offering backing vocals. All was fine and dandy until I went into
Daltrey mic-twirl mode. When I turned to
Andy he looked ashen, presumably consumed by the image of watching his lead-vocal
instrument colliding with the floor or ceiling; so I stopped.
It most
definitely was appropriate that the first songs Nancy heard on my car player
were Who songs. In the intervening years
(and since) my wife has had to endure more Who music than any spouse (of
considerable and diverse interest in music herself I must add) should probably have
to. This would include countless repeat
playing of their albums on our stereo; attending their concerts with me; cohosting
pay-per-view gatherings of Who shows at our first home in Waltham; listening to
my vocal interpretations on hikes and car rides (often replete with stage
imitations); watching their videos; or simply putting up with my general rock
and roll sensibilities. I must say, it
helps that Nancy has these sensibilities too, but being married to a guy who
can rattle off Rock & Roll memories the way I have in this blog series must
on occasion have the feel of rock-sensory-overload.
This past week
Nancy and I celebrated our 25th silver wedding anniversary. Seeing how great of a ride it has been, I can
only conclude that our mutual Rock & Roll experience has to have been a
positive contribution to our life together thus far. Along with the Who and all their solo
permutations, we have enjoyed many other incredible shows together, including
the Rolling Stones, the Kinks, Neil Young, Leonard Cohen, Arlo Guthrie, The
Band, Jonathan Richman, Rick Danko, Dave Davies, Charlie Watts, Southside
Johnny, Richard Thompson, Richie Havens, Pure Prairie League, Shawn Colvin, the
English Beat, and a great Roy Orbison tribute in Los Angeles with numerous
musicians, including Bob Dylan and the Byrds.
I am sure I am missing a ton. Last
night we added to that list, attending the Bob Dylan 75th birthday
tribute at the Bull Run in Shirley MA with a number of great friends. Needless to say we plan to continue this
trend in the years ahead.
With that
said, I think it apropos that I submit “Long Live Rock” as my 16th
Big Top entry (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U6VSSSbY0Pc), if for the title alone (I considered “Now I’m a Farmer”, but
after gaging son Peter on it decided the song was….an acquired taste). I fell in love with this song all over again
this week. I believe it to be Pete
Townshend’s best lead-vocal effort on a Who recording. At the end of the bridge, Roger Daltrey sounds
very convincingly like he is giving a eulogy when he repeats “Rock is Dead” three times (Rock rebounds
later in the song). The lyrics tell the
story of a Who show in 1966, including events leading up
to it. The lyrics are tremendous,
including the opening “Down at the
Astoria the scene was changing; bingo and rock were pushing out X-rated” (music
and bingo replacing promiscuous theater at the old Astoria in Finsbury Park,
north London) and “People walk in
sideways pretending that they’re leaving” as well as “Jack is in the alley selling tickets made in Hong Kong”. For a video link, I searched high and low for
the end credits to The Kids Are Alright,
which runs this song in the background as we get to watch the Who backstage
after their final concert together with Keith Moon; mugging for the camera and
generally acting out the song’s lyrics.
I’ll just have to pop the movie in and enjoy that finale on my own. I recommend fellow Who fans to do the same,
as I always pick up on something new when I watch that movie.
In closing, I
would like to dedicate this entry to my lovely wife. Happy 25th Anniversary Nancy! May the music always be a magical ingredient
of our life together.
- Pete
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