Prelude to a Convention-SellOut

[GACoelho@aol.com]

Dear Kevin,

Sunday, August 20 was a great day. A typically beautiful California Sunday. I
organised myself for the Entwistle interview fo Bass Frontiers magazine that
I was to do that night at the All Starr show. As I was leaving for Injah the
next day, there was a lot to do (the brotherman to the motherland-more about
that another time).

As I was jivin' around backstage Ringo was walking around looking serious. I
really don't think he can see well with those dark glasses in the
stairwells...Billy Preston was cool and was sprawled across a couch in front
of me (genuine Naugahyde, the couch silly, not Billy) watching eastern
european girls on the telly doing gymnastic routines.

The bloody Friends of the Earth were eating into my time with John by having
him sign about a million posters to auction off so that they could raise
funds. I thanked God for Jacques Chirac, at least he doesn't waste time, just
atolls. Then suddenly they were kicked out and I was on...

In that Sunday's San Francisco Chronicle, Michael Snyder did a review of the
reissued "Sell-Out." He gave it five stars, for whatever that's worth
(passionately speaking, a lot, I reckon). I gave a copy to John that night as
well as a copy of Ringo's interview in Goldmine. He seemed to appreciate
both. 

I viewed the positive review and the interview as just another harbinger of a
great Convention. I took inspiration (and courage) from Alan McKendree's
superb interviews for the past two years. I do think these were, for me, two
of the "highest highs" on the list during this period .Another high was your
gripping story of "the Magic Bus Ashland Adventure." I could actually hear
the bass as I read it! Fifteen minutes of bloody A! Offline the highest high
was meeting all the lads in London. I won't mention the lowlights on the
list... 

Anyway, this is an uplifting piece of writing. It wouldn't earn Snyder
entrance to the Psychoderelict hall of fame and he should be pleased. 

Kindly do not repost.
(C) Copyright The San Francisco Chronicle.



"THE SHOCK OF THE WHO
Remixed 'Sell Out' worth more than a pile of copycat pop
BY MICHAEL SNYDER
CHRONICLE STAFF CRITIC


An  all-too-clever crew of British musicians goes by the name Pop Will Eat
Itself, reflecting the sample-heavy nature of the band's techno-rock.  But
pop music in 1995 isn't so much eating itself as photocopying itself and the
more you photocopy a photocopy, the more the resolution begins to waver and
fade.

It's not just that grunge-rock, one of the few so-called new wrinkles in
recent years, was the bummed-out bastard son of heavy  metal and punk.  Or
that Natalie Cole became a show-biz superstar by doing electronically
processed duets with her late father, Nat King Cole.  Or that Tori Amos is a
Joni Mitchell for Generation X.

With a few notable exceptions, even the best albums these days feel like two
great tracks and a cloud of dust.  So just imagine the shock of rediscovering
a CD that conjures up a time when the pop single was left behind by
full-length albums, long on meat and short on filler.  A time when creativity
was in bloom and rock music, for all of its transcendent power, still had a
sense of humor.

The newly remastered, remixed and expanded CD edition of "The Who Sell Out"
was released a few weeks ago as part of MCA’s plan to dust off the cornpany’s
entire Who catalog.  It's like a shot of adrenaline in the cortex.  It's also
like Marcel Proust's madeleine from 'Remembrance of Things Past.' In the same
way the taste of that cookie, dipped in tea, transported Proust to other
times, the sound of the album recalls a time when rock and roll was more than
just cannily conceived product for habitual consumers.

One of the first wave of successful '60s-era British Invasion bands, The Who
didn't ignore the issue of commercialism.  With 'The Who Sell Out' in 1967,
the band took it head on.

THE WHO: The Who Sell Out
MCA, $14.99******

Inspired by a suggestion from manager/producer Kit Lambert, the band decided
its third album would approximate 45 minutes of Radio London - a "pirate"
radio station off the coast of England broadcasting a full playlist of rock
music, counter to government restrictions (N.B. commercial radio broadcasting
was illegal, presumably not pop music, but you would never know what those
"crappy people" in Government might do-and that bloke is not Cap'n
Kangeroo-George :).  

The resulting record was, like the TOP 40 radio of the time, a riot of
different types of songs: spacey psychedelic rock, musical short stories and
personality sketches, electrifying love songs with double entendres, tender
acoustic ballads, one certified career-making hit single ('I Can See for
Miles") and a mini-opera with hints of the coming 'Tommy" project.  It was
all held together with seamless segues, genuine station breaks and a few
Who-conceived-and-recorded commercials for products ranging from baked beans
to guitar strings.

Driven by Pete Towshend's windmilling guitar attack and hungry intellect, The
Who was in the process of becoming more than a smirky, aggressive quartet of
mop-headed  rockers known for their destructive on-stage antics.

Townshend's writing, in particular, was a revelation on 'The Who Sell Out."
Virtually a kid in his 20’s, he crafted songs such as "Tattoo,' a brilliant,
plaintive snapshot of two working-class teenage brothers who decide to prove
their manhood by getting branded at the tattoo parlor up the block.  Or, in
deference to the theme of the album, 'Odorono' - a robust number about a
rising singer whose romance with her Mr. Right is derailed because she used
the wrong deodorant.

The programming is near perfect, with the tumultuous "I Can See for Miles" as
a midpoint apex.  "Rael," a roiling tale of war at sea, is the finale,
incorporating musical themes that would later crop up in "Tommy."

As a bonus, the new version of the album keeps going after "Rael," almost
doubling its length with unreleased material, a few outtakes from the
sessions, more commercials (including two real cola ads done by The Who) and
an alternate version of a familiar track.

"The Who Sell Out" is not so much an artifact from a bygone era as it is a
marvelous, vital reminder of pop music's limitless possibilities.  It's
exhilarating, it's passionate and it's just plain fun.

The only downside is how so much current pop music seems to pale by
comparison."

Amen, Brother Snyder! 

Regards, George