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FD & IH article transcribed
Here's something you don't read every day - an article devoted entirely to
the merits of Face Dances & It's Hard. Source: rockstar. magazine, January
2000.
Cynthia
-------------------------------
Being: The Who after Keith Moon
by Jeff Miers
The (rockstar.) office echoed with laughter quite often this month. It seems
my esteemed colleagues got quite a kick out of the fact that I was working on
a piece dedicated to The Who's recorded legacy following the death of
original drummer Keith Moon. The mockery directed at your humble editor
became rather intense as the weeks progressed. It was not unusual for
someone to break into a chorus of "Athena" or "You Better You Bet," which
would inevitably collapse into a fit of shared mirth. Shared, that is, by
all but me.
Not surprising, really. Anyone who has read these pages even casually over
the past eight months knows that I have a rather large chip on my shoulder.
You would too, if you were commonly hailed by the moniker "Dad-rocker". But,
as Bob Dylan once said, (here I go again) "When you ain't got nothin', you
got nothing' to lose". So here goes.
Yes, The Who were one of the greatest bands in the history of rock music. In
fact, they may well be the single best live act to have pounded the boards
over the past 35 years or so. For while the Beatles and Beach Boys shunned
live work (or should have, as the case may be) and ruled the recording
studio, and Led Zeppelin and The Stones were fairly inconsistent in the live
setting, the 'orrible Who were a well-oiled Sherman Tank of an outfit. No
one could touch them when they were on. And they were on most of the time.
Here's why; take a disturbingly brilliant songwriter capable of both sonic
muscle and tender subtlety, add a macho prick of a singer with an undeniably
muscular and beautiful voice, a stoic, stationary bass player with fingers
like tree trunks, and a drummer who soloed constantly, irregardless of band
arrangements, and you've got the recipe for an incredibly exciting
rock-n-roll band. Listen to Live at Leeds, and you'll realize that the
subject needs no further debate. The Who in their prime were simply
monstrous; elegant and ugly at the same time.
Rock fans are a notoriously unforgiving lot, though, and many Who lovers
never forgave the band for continuing after the death of Keith Moon.
Understandable, sure. But unfair as well. When Moon finally bit it, as his
bandmates undoubtedly knew he would, The Who were left in a quandry. In
actual fact, Pete Townshend had quit the band following the recording of Who
Are You, Moon's swan song. He thought the album sucked. (It doesn't).
Townshend had been in a funk of drug addiction and alcoholism for the better
part of a decade at the time of Moon's death. The fact that he decided to
carry on at all is rather surprising. But he'd written a batch of new
material, and he was excited once again. The band hired ex-Small Faces
drummer Kenny Jones, not so much to fill Moon's shoes, as to provide the
foundation for what was essentially a new band.
"When Keith died, I did a weird turnaround," Townshend recently told Q
Magazine. "I felt the drive to carry on. I summoned Roger to my studio and
said, Listen, we've got to go on. He was shocked - he said, Look, you're not
physically very well - but he agreed and we decided to bring in Kenny Jones
to replace Keith. And of course, a couple of albums later, I found myself
back in the place that I was at before Keith died."
It's the "couple of albums" Townshend so casually mentioned in the above that
we are concerned with here. For while those two studio albums that the band
recorded with Kenny Jones at the drum throne - Face Dances and It's Hard -
probably rank at the bottom of Who fans' list of great Who output, it seems
fair to say, given the benefit of hindsight, that they've been given a bit of
a bad rap.
A serious examination of these two albums must center around Townshend the
songwriter, to be sure. In fact, Face Dances and It's Hard shouldn't be
judged by the same criteria as, say, The Who Sell Out, Quadrophenia, or even
By Numbers. It would probably make more sense to compare them to Who Came
First and Empty Glass, or any of Townshend's solo work, for that matter. If
the listener is able to remove the Jones-era releases from beneath the
unbearable heaviness of being The Who, two remarkably strong pop albums
emerge.
In retrospect, it seems fairly obvious that the songs on Face Dances and It's
Hard are among the most direct, least convoluted Townshend ever wrote. That
is certainly no slight on the man's more ambitious work. The Who with Moon
is obviously the only *real* Who. But to insist that The Who shouldn't
record unless they smack of the same significance that they did in their
heyday, is simply ludicrous.
"Can The Who still be relevant to young people?" Townshend asks in the same Q
interview, rather rhetorically. Of course not. One of the great things
about being 54 years old is that I don't have to apologise to anybody -
whether they're rock journalists or rock fans or fans of The Who - who might
feel that I've had pretentious moments, or that maybe I'm a bit too big for
my boots, or who think that if you delve deeply into my work that it's all a
con. The fact of the matter is, I'm fucking brilliant. Not was brilliant.
*Am* brilliant."
Townshend may have been speculating on the possibility of recording another
Who album in the present day, but he may as well have been offering defense
of The Who's 80's output. It is pretty fucking brilliant, after all.
Face Dances was The Who's last big hit. It's also the band's least bombastic
recording; essentially, it's a great pop album, as unforgettable gems like
"Don't Let Go The Coat", "Daily Records", "How Can You Do It Alone", and
"Another Tricky Day" attest. Townshend's intricate array of what we now call
vintage guitar sounds are left plenty of room to breathe by the comparatively
staid presence of Jones, who is as close as we are likely to hear to the
diametric opposite of Moon the loon. John "Rabbit" Bundrick's eclectic array
of organic-sounding keyboards are a nice addition to the Who stew as well.
Add the presence of a pair of Entwistle rockers in the mode of "My Wife" -
the rollicking, bitter "You" and the equally pissy "The Quiet One" - and
you've got a classic album by any standards, except possibly The Who's.
Similarly, It's Hard capitalizes on Townshend's penchant for shorter pop
tunes, while adding enough bombast to keep things interesting. In many ways,
this is the superior album of the two, God strike me down for saying so. The
aforementioned "Athena" - the tune that kept my colleagues in stitches all
month - is a wry, brilliantly worded love song with what sounds like an
extremely bastardized Bossa Nova basis. The bridge, wherein Townshend adds
one of his brilliant key changes to the mix and, in a voice that could never
be confused with any one else's, offers the query, "How long could children
remain?" as Entwistle layers his inimitable horn parts, is simply awesome.
No kidding! And who can deny the power of the irreverent "Eminence Front"?
Well, I'm sure many people can. But they shouldn't. Once again, Entwistle
delivers the goods in perfect counterpoint to Townshend's more introspective
eccentricities, with the tracks "It's Your Turn", "Dangerous", and "One At A
Time". A healthy serving of piss and vinegar, thank you very much.
A handful of these tunes - the title track, "One Life's Enough", "Cry If You
Want" - rank among Pete's finest post-60's fare. That's saying alot.
Hopefully, time will serve Face Dances and It's Hard well. Recent re-issues
include live bonus tracks, proving that the band still delivered the goods
without Moon.
No Who collection is truly complete without these two albums.