Recommendations of the editorial team
The WHO started in 1964 as R’n’B adepte, delivered hard rock, excessive concept works and even more excessive live shows. But despite the Union Jack and Mod-Target: Britpop it was only at the beginning. “The inventors of the Brit-Rock” hits it much better. We got an overview of the band’s most important works. Here are the absolute must-have albums.
These albums must be:
The Who Sell Out (1967)
When Campbell’s Dosens soup goes through as a work of art thanks to Andy Warhol, this also applies to this pop art collage from Werbejingles, breaking melodies of the recently shyed-up pirate channels and psychedelic rock of the “I can see for miles”. As a result, the WHO in 1967 was no longer perceived as instruments as instruments, but-underpinned by ex-art students Pete Townshend’s eloquence-as a fairly smart, almost intellectual. It should take 13 years before Nina Hagen’s ex-band Spliff and her Spliff Radio Show ventured to a similar concept. At that time, The WHO was ahead of her time, which the critics delighted, but was hardly approved by the audience-despite fine songs like “Tattoo”, “Odorono” or the Beach Boys ingimity “I Can’t Reach You”. Kleinholz awaited the amusing rock crowd on the stage, but no comment on the appearance that the 68s should soon be called “consumer terror”.
Tommy (1969)
Opus Magnum, the first: With contemporary flower children, The WHO could actually do very little, when asked how it was in Woodstock, Townshend said: “I Hated it”. His esoteric “rock opera” met the contemporary penchant for spirituality and inwardness, however, the number of those who thought “See me, Feel Me” at candlelight and incense sticks with the universe should have been immensely. If you subtract the few lengths and some bizarre intermezzi, you still remain cleverly staged, sometimes even brilliant rock music. Appropriate loudly, the overwhelming potential of “Pinball Wizard” or “I’m free” is still amazing, and Keith Moon is already spoken for the drum intro of “Amazing Journey”. For The WHO, the double album meant the big breakthrough, from the singles band of the sixties were album artists for the seventies.
Live at Leeds (1970)
Later editions of the concert recording also contain the Tommy section at the time, the original edition with only six songs speaks a completely different language: The WHO in the uncompromising hard rock mode with Moses “Young Man Blues”, the British Rock’n’Roll standard “Shakin ‘All Over” and Eddie Cochran’s teen-frustration anthem “SummerTime Blues ”. Also here is an almost quarterly version of “My Generation”, which tends to be completely counteracted by the tendency to be-spiritual Tommy repertoire and in places. The WHO clarified on stage, for which, despite intellectually challenging excursions and all the compositional finesse of their predecessor, they still stood: frighteningly loud and always risky power play on the edge of the abyss. If Townshend’s fingers didn’t bleed the third song, it wasn’t a good show. The appearance in Leeds was even very good.
These albums should be:
My Generation (1965)
Amphetamine-fired stuttering, that memorable text line “Hope I Die Before I Get Old” and a destructive feedback cacophony as the finale: It is undoubtedly the title song and its aggressive we-against-rest rhetoric, which shaped the band as a berserk of the beat era. My generation is one of the profound debut works of the pre-album age when singles in particular dominated the market: rough James Brown adaptations and mod rock á la “The Good’s Gone” stood for “Maximum Rhythm & Blues”, a preference for Beatles and Beach Boys broke out in “The Kids Are Alright”- At that time conditions of unprecedented heavyness.
Who’s next (1971)
Hard landing: The euphoria of the sixties of increasing disillusionment, Townshend wrote angrily “Won’t Get fooled again” and became even clearer in “Baba O’Riley”: “I don’t need to fight to prove i’m right”. Inspired by Terry Riley, the pioneer of the Minimal Music, the initial sequence consisted of a synthesizer loop, Dave Arbus from the band East of Eden contributed the manic violin solo. Art rock met hard rock. The Who had become rich with Tommy, but also rich in problems. Only Roger Daltrey remained steadfast, enjoyed the role of the blond hero, for which the rest was: too many drugs, too much alcohol. Townshend’s anger into the world couldn’t even alleviate guru Meher Baba, after Tommy he also suffered from enormous pressure to expect. What was left? Weekly tours, even more rock star lifestyle-and the firm project to surprise the world with another mammoth.
Quadrophenia (1973)
Opus Magnum, the second: At the beginning of the 1970s, the era of rock revivals began, all sorts of glitter acts conjured up the spirit of ’57. The WHO preferred a completely different approach. Although they refer to the mode culture of the early sixties, they related themselves thematically-quite auto-free-but moved musically in the here and now. The juvenile main character Jimmy was representative of the four band members, which makes the title Quadrophenia appear reasonably understandable. But as always at Townshend there were all sorts of subtexts: Quadrophenia is a coming-of-age story full of anger, fear, frustrations and self-doubt. Some of the synthesizers partly instrumented, the work did not throw away significant hit single, but if you want to trace the musical essence of this band, you can hardly avoid a track like “The Real Me”: A powerful, heyer voice plus Townshends guitar-Schrapnelle, complements John Desthapative Bass and an excessive drive. The proof that nuclear fusion is also possible in the record studio.
These albums can be:
In 1966 the second album looked a little haphazard A Quick One: At least the multi-part “A Quick One, While He’s Away” was space between hard rock, pop and motown cover. A nice trial run, nothing more. “Run Run Run” is still fun. After the ambitious large act Quadrophenia, the air seemed to be a little out in 1975. The Who by Numbers only rousingly rousing, even annoyed with the “squeeze box”. Pete Townshend was in a dark mood due to drugs and not exactly kissed from the muse. Roger Daltrey, on the other hand, called his favorite album in the band’s work, which he should be pretty alone. After WHO ARE YOU In 1978 at 32, it caught the not eternal party animally Keith Moon. The cover photo showed him on a chair with the imprint “Not to be taken away”, which unfortunately hadn’t helped. Pete Townshend later referred to the album as “crap”, but at least the title song was not entirely uncharming.
The band was off Face dances From 1981 a different, newcomer Kenney Jones could really suffer from all the constant Moon comparisons. The work of the more vital was unusual than the rather dispensable successor It’s hard from 1982. After that, there was a break until 2006. Four years earlier, John Destle died in a hotel room in Paradise, Nevada. At the age of 57, a local group in bed and an overdose of cocaine in the blood. There were only two plus various guest musicians, but Endless Wire Could polish up the previously battered reputation a little. The current album was a little better at the end of last year WHO. Small encore: If you are looking for the singles published between 1964 and 2014-including formidable non-LP tracks such as “Pictures of Lily”, “Magic Bus” and “The Seeker”- The Who Hits 50! Not completely, but still very neatly served.