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Re: The Who Mailing List Digest V3 #592



I started writing this because for once, I knew the answer to one of 
the questions posed on this list...

> KREGW@ALCON.ALC.ORG asked...
>     I recall a certain feature film, can't remember the title, that had
>     PT's Let My Love Open the Door playing while the credits rolled by.

That was "Look Who's Talking" a moderately funny comedy about talking babies.   
And Speaking of babies, I took my 15 year old son to see 
Quad at the Sunday Night show in San Jose.  

As others have noted here, the show was amazing. 
I thought I'd jot down a few notes about what happened in San Jose.
This is kind of long, but feel free to put it in
the digest if you like.  

I'm a longtime fan - having first seen the band 
in Chicago (anybody else remember the Kinetic Playground?).  
They were touring in front of the newly released Tommy 
album, so it must have been in '69, (right?).  That would
have made me a high school senior at the time.   The 
performance that night every bit as amazing as what I 
saw a week ago Sunday, but in an entirely different way.  

I have some fairly vivid memories of the Chicago show from
all those years ago.  The opening act was (believe it or
not) Buddy Rich (the jazz drummer) and his big band.  The
night was billed as the 'battle of the drummers', although
you could tell that Buddy had a little bit of an attitude
problem about playing warmup for a rock and roll band.  
I don't think Buddy thought Keith was in his league.  
(Actually I don't think Buddy thought *anybody* was in 
his league, but that's another story.)

After Buddy's set, the crew went to work tearing down the 
stage and setting up for the Who.  I'd been to the Kinetic
Playground many times, and usually setup times were a matter
of 10-15 minutes.  It took the crew nearly an hour to get
things ready this time out.  I remember thinking we were 
in for something special when they set up Keith's drums, and
began nailing the bass drum to the floor using something
that looked like railroad spikes.  I remember thinking to myself
that this was pretty strange.  "After all, what do they expect
them to do?  Fly off the stage?"  Little did I know...  

When the band finally took the stage, the first song ("Heaven
and Hell", as always) just about lifted the crowd out of 
the theater.  And after two other numbers (sorry, don't recall
what they were - after all, this was nearly 30 years ago), Pete
stepped up to the mike and announced they were going to play
an opera.  Having never heard Tommy at that point, I was still
thinking in terms of Maria Callas and Tosca, when the overture
got under way.  

The playing was unlike anything I'd ever heard.  At times (Overture,
Pinball Wizard, See Me Feel Me) precise, well rehearsed and 
carefully played, and at other times (Underture, I'm Free,
Uncle Ernie) ragged, sloppy, raw, spiritually uplifting and incredibly exciting, the 
Tommy set opened me up to the real possibilities of what rock and 
roll music could be.  At the end of the opera, the applause went on for what
felt like 10 minutes before they boys returned for an encore of
Shakin' All Over, Summertime Blues and Magic Bus.  Guitars were not
smashed that night, (they'd stopped doing that on the previous tour), 
but nobody missed it.  

Not quite two hours after it started, I wasn't sure exactly what it was I
had just seen and heard, but I did know I was damned impressed.
I could not go straight home.  Instead I drove around for an hour
looking for an all night record store.  Finding one on Rush Street,
I picked up the Tommy album and took it home.  I listened
to it until the wee hours of the morning.  Again.  And Again.  
And Again....

So it was with some trepidation that I brought my 15 year old to
see the boys at the Shark Tank in SJ.  I knew that the live 
Who had been a turning point in my adolesence.  But Roger, Pete
& John aren't a bunch of 20 year olds any more.  We are talking
about 50 year old men.  I was afraid that when Roger sang 
the line "I'm wet and I'm cold, But thank god I ain't old" that
he'd just look silly.  

I'm not a kid any more.  I'm an old guy in my 40s.  I took my kid to
see the Who because I wanted to share a little bit of what was 
important to me 30 years ago with my son.  But I kept worrying 
that it wasn't going to work out that way.  I imagined him
looking at me at the end of the concert and saying something like,
"Oh yeah, they were OK.  But Eddy Vedder and Pearl Jam were playing
at the Bridge Benefit tonight Dad; why didn't you get tickets to 
see them?"  

I got even more worried when the warmup act (The Hypocrites) took
the stage.  For me, they embodied everything that's different about
rock today and the rock of 30 years ago.  The singer began by announcing,
"We were sent out here to warm you guys up" with all the enthusiasm
of somebody who'd been sent out to sweep up a pool of vomit from a 
bathroom floor.  

The Hypocrites' music was - for me anyway - predictable.  I couldn't understand the
lyrics - that's not their fault - but the tone was whiny and pissed
off - like so much of today's music.  

I really hate the fact that
as I write this, I can hear *my* father's voice complaining about
the records that I listened to as a kid.  "How can you 
listen to that crap?!"   But I guess that's one of
the really odd things about having kids.  Like the first time
I had to yell at them about something, I swear I heard my father's voice
coming out of my mouth, screaming, "If you kids don't stop that right now....")
Very weird.

When the Hypocrites' set was over, the crew took over to set up for 
the Who.  (I remember watching the guitar player for the Hypocrites
tearing down and packing up his own gear, and thinking that things
must be tough for new bands theses days.  But I guess they always 
have been.)  

When the lights went down for the beginning of Quad, I began to feel better.
Maybe this hadn't been such a bad idea.  The band was tight, rehearsed, and 
played like a well-oiled machine.  As they worked their way through
the first half of Quad, I remember looking over at my son.  He seemed
to be enjoying the spectacle - the multimedia stuff particularly impressed him - but
I could see he was caught up in the precision of it all - the technology of
the multiple video screens and the coordination of the videotaped parts of
the show with the band's live performance.  I remember thinking to
myself that it was a shame that all he's going to get to see of the
Who is this aspect of the band - the perfectly controlled, precision concert 
act.  He would miss the band I had seen in Chicago - the rawness that 
was so exciting it seemed like they were all just about to fly right
off the stage.  What a shame.

Then they played 5:15.

I can't tell you how many times I've heard people say that a band "rocked",
or that they "rocked the hall".  It's an expression that's been used so many times
that it's not even a cliche anymore.  But I've never heard any band do 
what the Who did in San Jose Sunday night.  At the end of John's bass solo,
my son turned to me with his jaw hanging open.  The music was very loud, so
it was nigh unto impossible to hear exactly what he said.  But judging by the 
expression on his face, it was probably something like "Jeezus H Fucking Christ!"

We don't usually talk to our parents the way we talk to each other.  But
for that one moment, I guess he wasn't thinking of me as his father.  

When the show was over, as we were making our way out into the parking lot, I 
was struck by the little knots of people making their way home.  In 1969, the
audience was made up mostly of young men.  In 1996 the audience was still mostly
male, but there were also lots of other kinds of people there - parents and kids - 
older couples - younger couples, and old men.  

As we were driving home, my 15 year old turned to me and said, "So Dad,
I didn't get what Quadrophenia was all about."  

So we set off in search of an all night record store.  Thanks Pete.  Thanks 
Roger.  Thanks John.   

- -geo