PT @ HOB

[amck@eden.com (Alan McKendree)]

Here are some notes from the Pete HOB show last weekend in Chicago.  Enjoy...

As you may know, Pete used a looseleaf notebook of lyrics which sat on a
stand in front of his mike.  No more forgotten lyrics!

At 6:21 6/17/97, mail@mail.thewho.net wrote:
>Date:  Tue, 17 Jun 1997 00:15:57 -0400 (EDT)
>From: JabbaHutt5@aol.com
>Subject: Local Review #1
>
>Here is what the CHICAGO TRIB had to say about Pete's solo appearance, in
>case anyone would like to know:
>
>Townshend's lofty aspirations, though, were precisely why he's poorly suited
>for stripped-down performances. Having long ago abandoned simple pop songs
>for complex narratives and near-orchestral grandeur, Townshend needs The
>Who's dramatic embellishments to match philosophical inquiry with visceral
>might.

This sounds like the reviewer wanted a Who show, meaning essentially he was
downgrading Pete for not having Roger & John present.  Once you approach
the show on its own terms, it stands very well.  Pete was clearly enjoying
himself, which made all the difference.

>His elaborate compositions proved even too much for
>Townshend, who fumbled ``The Sea Refuses No River'' despite the pages of
>sheet music spread before him on his electric piano.

It wasn't "despite", it was "because of" having the music nearly fall off
the stand.  The song was typed (I assume) on five sheets of typewriter
paper, which were taped together at the sides making a _long_ sheet 11"
high which Pete tried to spread out and put on the music holder on his
keyboard.  It took him a while to even get the music put on the stand,
during which he irritatedly removed the music lamp on top of the piano
because it was in the way.  So now he's got a long sheet of paper barely
stable on the stand with no light, and starts playing this long and complex
song.  The vibration of the piano made the paper slowly walk off to Pete's
left, toward the audience.  Eventually the lyric book which he had put on
the top left of the piano took a dive off onto the stage, and the paper was
slowly following.  The question became whether he could finish the song
before his music followed the book.  Finally in the middle of the piece
with the leftmost (from Pete's POV) sheet-and-a-half already hanging off
the stand he said "FUCK", stopped and readjusted the paper, and resumed
from where he left off.  The whole thing should/could have been avoided
with a "page turner" assistant, but oh well.  Jon was off the stage.  FWIW,
he accidentally sang the first line of "Slit Skirts" at the beginning of
this and started over.

Pete isn't as comfortable on piano as guitar, and was hitting some wrong
chords; multiple times through the show he stopped briefly and looked
carefully at the music, hit the right chord and continue.  I don't think
his papers contain traditional sheet music which makes me wonder if he's
got something like chord notations like a guitar chart written down, and
plays the chords by their shapes on the keyboard while reading their names
off the paper.

Yes, the audience was pretty annoying at times, talking while Pete's was
trying to explain songs and talk to the audience, and the softer songs.
Wankers.  One guy kept yelling "Move the music stand", and yelled
"Seattle!!" (due to Eddie's presence) in the middle of "Heart to Hang
Onto", a song designed for raucous audience yelling -- NOT; one girl felt
inspired to bring a pair of maracas and "help out" on many songs :-P.  Of
course, the mandatory semi-drunk butthead helped out yelling song
suggestions and ended in boozy inspiration with the ever-witty "Play
whatever you want, Pete!" when it became clear Pete was paying no
attention.

Concerning Germany, he went on at some length about how good a time they
had had playing Quad there and ended with the observation that while BBE
was sung by the villain of _Lifehouse_, he had come to think that it was
about Germany, with reference to WW II, and how it of how moving it was to
play BBE in Germany; and that it was time to move on and put that behind
us, ans the German people were doing.  He ended with the admonition, "Think
of them [the Germans], as I play it.", with a twinkle that mocked the
pretension of his statement, and elicited laughs from those sober enough to
be listening.

After AAA, he mocked it by saying it's good that he wrote it when he was
young because "it's just such a crock, isn't it? <LOL>.  He then proceeded
to do a "poetic reading" of the _entire song_, making fun of it and making
faces and mincing around:  "I can do ANYthing.  NOTHing gets in my way, not
EVEN LOCKED DOORS..."

On Christine's Song Jon Carin's pedal-steel imitation from his keyboard was
haunting and ethereal.  Before the song Pete told a story of riding with
its author, Gram Parsons into the hills of Hollywood and telling Gram that
he thought their upcoming record was going to be a big hit.  Gram responded
"I hope so, Pete, 'cos we're starving."

He said he hadn't rehearsed You Better You Bet, but that it would be great
if it worked, and if it didn't work it would still be pretty good :-D.  He
was cracking jokes all night...

Of course, the whole house bellows along with "I'm One", which I never fail
to find amusing.  "I'm One! (along with these other thousand geezers...)"

Pete apologized for doing the Chicago Psychoderelict show drunk, and said
he was going to make amends, just before launching into a heartfelt
rendition of "Now & Then".  I am reminded anew how much the intro and
underlying synth of this reminds me of the beautiful Jefferson Starship
song, "Have You Seen the Stars Tonight?"

"Embraceable You" seemed a bit _less_ polished than its performances last
year, but it's such an intimate song that it doesn't matter.  Again, Pete
introduced it by mentioning that his mother recorded it.  It was quietly
done, and a bit halting; we could have been in his living room.  Then on
the very last note instead of hitting the last home note he hit big
dissonant chords, and said, "I love my mother"...make of that what you
will.

He would have done another on the piano (Slit Skirts?) after that, but his
headmike suddenly developed an insurmountable feedback problem so he
abandoned the piano and went to a rocking, swinging Bargain with plenty of
downbeat and a few machine-guns.  As previously mentioned, this became "The
Seeker" without missing a beat (I was radiating, it's one of my favorites),
then worked back to Bargain after a verse or so.

A couple of times Pete toyed with us? himself? by noodling around with an
introduction that sounded like it would be one song, but then turned that
into another song.  What might have been Substitute became _The Kids Are
Alright_; what _was_ WGFA for a few bars became My Generation.

_The Kids Are Alright_ (on electric) had an extended ending with a bit of
honest-to-god whammy bar and smacking the high harmonics.  For once, the
audience redeemed itself with a wo-OH-oh, on key and everything, that
sounded great and kept things going while Pete jammed on the lyrics... the
kids are alright... how could anything be wrong with kids?  with us? there
is no evil, only degrees of good... we're alright...we're all alright...
ending with "Even the Irish are alright!"

_My Generation_ had all the snarl and the attitude and heart, both vocally
and electrically <g>, including stage moves with the jams that set the
audience screaming in some cases.  He meant it.

>After A Legal Matter, Pete said that it wasn't about Karen,
>but another, buxom woman whose name he could no longer
>remember.

The phrase he used was that she had "enormous tits".  (I remember the
oddest bits...).  Then he jokingly wailed "Why did I have to marry a thin
girl?"

Alan

"When I'm on stage, it's not like bein' possessed...it's just...*I* *do*
*my* *job*."                 - Pete Townshend