The Who started as a spectacle and then they became spectacular. At first the band just wanted to keep everything short and small; later, on albums like Tommy and Quadrophenia, they combined this raw energy with precision and the ambition to carry out large-scale musical experiments. They asked themselves: What are the limits of rock and roll? Does music really have the power to change how people feel? Pete Townshend recognized a spiritual quality in the music.
They were an incredibly good band whose main songwriter was looking for harmony and meaning in his life. He took his listeners on this journey, he inspired others to find their own path – and at the same time he was in the Guinness Book of Records. The loudest band in the world.
I presume to speak for all Who fans when I say that being their fan has enriched my life immeasurably. And it worried me too: They kicked down every door of rock’n’roll and left only rubble for the rest of us – there wasn’t much left that we could claim as our own. They appeared arrogant at the beginning, even when they were still, as Pete himself says, “actually a completely ordinary band”. They got better and better, but the attitude remained. The punks took up this thread again much later.
The Who wanted to be louder, so they had Jim Marshall design the 100-watt amplifier. That still wasn’t enough, so they piled the things up. It’s said that the first guitar feedback on record was in 1965’s “Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere.” The Who told stories within the confines of a song, and over the course of an album they pushed those boundaries. Could an even bigger story be told? What was even possible? And how could they be conveyed to a large audience – when there were no video walls? Smash the instruments? Keith Moon said in an interview that they wanted to grab the audience by the balls. Pete, on the other hand, preferred to point to the auto-destructive art movement in Germany – sculptures that quickly collapsed, installations that exploded: In the same way, what The Who did was art.
I was about nine when a babysitter played “Who’s Next” at my house. The parents were away. The window panes rattled. The shelves shook. Rock and roll. From then on I explored music that had soul, that had rebellion, aggression, passion in it. Destruction. It was all Who music. There was the mid-sixties maximum R&B period: mini-operas, Woodstock, solo albums. Imagine what it’s like to be a child and encounter Live At Leeds, that locomotive of a record. “Hi, my name is Eddie, I’m ten years old and I’m just getting completely blown away.” The Who on record were dynamic. Roger Daltrey sang vulnerably but without weakness, doubt or confusion. It wasn’t a plea for pity. You should definitely listen to Roger’s vocals on “Lubie (Come Back Home)”, a bonus track on the first album “My Generation”. That’s when he’s at his best.
The Who: the best live band in the world
They are quite possibly the best live band to date. Even list fanatic, punk legend and music historian Johnny Ramone agreed with me. You can’t explain Keith Moon and his playing. John Entwistle was an enigma in himself, another exceptional virtuoso. Roger turned his microphone into a weapon, seemingly for self-protection. Meanwhile, Pete jumped into the fray, wielding his ’70s Les Paul – and that’s one hell of a guitar.
As a live band they created movement, everything was moving, and the ritual of playing seemed to liberate them. Recently in Chicago I saw Pete squeezing notes out of his guitar like a mechanic wrings oil out of a rag. I watched the guitar come to life, a living thing being beaten and choked. When Pete put her down, I swear she looked relieved. A Stratocaster full of sweat.
John and Keith made The Who what they were. Roger was the rock. And to this day, Pete is one of the few rock icons who has endured a lot and still survived. He realized that as a rock’n’roll celebrity you get the role from the audience, based on the motto: “We pay you to entertain us.” But he also realized that the audience’s opinion could change : “When we’re done with you, we’ll replace you with someone else. For me, The Who will always remain irreplaceable.