Pete Diary 6/20

[L. Bird]

I'm running a bit behind.  Was this posted?
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http://www.petetownshend.co.uk/diary/display.cfm?id=320&zone=diary

20 June 2006
Ageing and Lear Jets

The first two shows of the tour – that we regarded as warm-ups – turned out 
both to be special in their own way. Leeds was a joy from beginning to end. 
The day began with a charter jet from the new building at Farnborough 
airport with its extraordinary new reception buildings that rival most 
public airports. Farnborough has always been the location of an annual Air 
Show in the UK, and has better resources as a result. The arrival over the 
Yorkshire hills in beautiful sunshine reminded me how many of my London 
friends have suddenly decided that this is the place they want to live. Ted 
Hughes’ Country I now call it: tightly rolling hills (the locals call 
‘Dales’) and a dark soil that seems to show even between the greenery and 
trees.

>From the moment Rachel and I arrived at the University Music department I 
was treated like Prince Charles, and found that the best way to behave was a 
little as he might. I was greeted by a small reception committee and led 
into a gallery where Sir Peter Blake was sitting, surrounded by Artist’s 
Proofs of perfect prints his various highly colourful record and CD sleeves 
of the past years – including of course Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club 
Band. The room was packed with people, including the three men who as 
students put on the Who’s show in 1970. From then on to the show itself, in 
39 degrees of heat, the fun rolled out. Rachel Fuller did her first In the 
Attic webcast from the back yard, and it went pretty well – no serious 
technical hitches. She webcast the first three numbers of our Who set, then 
got Sir Peter Blake and Andy Kershaw to come on and speak. Andy is a BBC 
radio music presenter and musicologist – he is especially well known now for 
his World Music shows, and he was a student at Leeds when we played there in 
1970; he went on to do a few years of booking bands there himself.

Lots of signing autographs, having my photo taken, and trying not to catch 
pneumonia, And we were back in the air. Flying back to London there are very 
few areas now that are not lit up – Manchester is a huge city, with lights 
like Los Angeles. I fall into a state of grateful realism: it has been a 
long time since I have done this kind of intense work.

Brighton was almost as intense, partly because our show was on the same day 
as the famous London to Brighton Cycle Rally, featuring 25,000 cyclists all 
requiring vans to collect them when they arrived. It took some of our party 
five hours to drive a distance that normally takes ninety minutes at the 
most. The Brighton Centre was the venue, I’d seen great shows there in the 
‘80s by Springsteen and the Clash, and was surprised how clean and sedate 
the place is. I had certainly not been clean and sedate. In The Attic 
featured Tracey Ullman who had brought her son to check us out. She was 
seriously funny. Chris Difford guested with his fantastic steel player 
Melvin. The Who show was tighter and better sounding, but the audience a 
little subdued – I asked if anyone had travelled by bike so the rest of us 
could lynch them, but only four brave people put up their hands. I love 
cycling, falling off and breaking my right wrist on Friday 13 September 1991 
was a price I paid for my enthusiasm and my bike-driven adrenalin rushes. 
After the show I got to greet some old friends, and my son Jose and his 
buddy Indie came and admired the incredible Thor Infinity American Motorhome 
we have hired for a Production vehicle from Cheshire Motorhomes.

I began this diary wishing to speak about how doing all this makes me feel 
old. I don’t mean that it makes me feel too old, or that I am unhappy to be 
doing it, but in this kind of spotlight there is no way to hide the years. I 
saw Paul Simon on British TV recently, and he has decided to stop screwing 
with his hair, and he looked relaxed and content, but also suddenly he looks 
his age – as a result the wisdom of some of his writing sits with him in a 
better light. It’s easier to give a man credit for genius when he looks 
older. Watching MTV this morning, and seeing the Kings of Leon re-running an 
early song, I find it hard to believe that anyone so young could get a 
career running. But when the Who played at Leeds in 1970 I was just 24. I 
was about to release Tommy and try to build a family: the next ten years 
were to prove the most exhausting and emotionally draining of my life.

In many ways, despite the years I carry, it all seems easier today. Flying 
home on a Lear jet is an indulgence that no one really deserves, but six 
hours in the back of a van trying to sleep with amplifiers falling on your 
head, is not an option any more.

This week I am mixing the Who album.