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Shoreline review from San Jose Mercury News



Available on line at:
http://www.mercurycenter.com/premium/ent/docs/who23.htm

Published Wednesday, August 23, 2000, in the San Jose Mercury News


The Who takes a sentimental journey
Shoreline show filled with classics, but nothing new
BY BRAD KAVA
Mercury News

BACK in the earliest days of his career, the Who's Pete Townshend wrote that
he hoped he'd die before he got old. That teenage anthem, ``My Generation,''
performed by a 20-year-old, was a hit in 1965.

Monday night at Shoreline Amphitheatre, the 55-year-old guitarist, sang the
same line again, with a surprising lack of irony, as the encore of an almost
three-hour-long greatest hits show.

Townshend, who charged $153 a ticket for decent reserved seats, was trapped,
reliving his past for an audience that wanted little else.

It was like Mick Jagger, who promised that he'd never want to sing
``Satisfaction'' after he reached the elderly age of 30, playing it again
and again, as he creeps toward the age where he can get a senior discount at
the movies.

As nostalgia shows go, the Who's lengthy, energetic set was superb. But it
was simply that: nostalgia.

It wasn't as bad as some of the band's past ``farewell tours,'' but it
wasn't the way I want to remember them years from now.

I'd much rather pull out 1970's ``Live at Leeds,'' remastered to add
material in '95 and re-released last year, to hear a band that played its
hits, but was constantly striving to do something more.

There were inklings of that Monday, but not enough to make it worth the high
price of the tickets.

Someone who had never seen the Who, one of the first wave of English rockers
after the Beatles, couldn't help but be impressed with a show that began
with ``Can't Explain,'' and ran through FM radio classics, ``Pinball
Wizard,'' ``Won't Get Fooled Again,'' ``Behind Blue Eyes,'' ``Bargain,''
``Drown,'' ``The Kids Are Alright'' and ``Who Are You?''

The band was loud, practiced and hardly missed a hit. It was a role model
for countless younger bands who could use a lesson in how to rock a large
arena.

The Who was better Monday than it was in 1982 or several tours after.

Townshend, the band's songwriter and guitarist, proved himself to be not
only one of rock's most enduring songwriters but also a performer who
creates flash.

Once you got used to the fact that he looked more like ``wicked Uncle
Ernie'' than the beatific blue-eyed eggshell walker of the ``Pure and Easy''
days, it didn't matter. His sprightly charisma was irresistible.

And, those windmills he once rationed? His arm now flailed like a traffic
cop on the freeway.

So what was the problem?

Well, for one thing, only a few songs were more recent than 1973. While the
band stretched out and changed the middles of a few songs -- most notably,
``My Wife,'' ``5:15'' and ``My Generation'' -- there wasn't enough of a
difference to make these classics interesting for someone who has seen them
performed a dozen times over the past 20 years, in concerts that Townshend
promised to be the last for the Who.

I was more intrigued by the set the band did last October at the Bridge
School Benefit, where it played rare gems such as ``Mary Anne with the Shaky
Hand.''

Back in 1969, it was almost a jazz band, with four soloists dueling for
their say, always threatening to rip a song apart, dissect it and somehow
find a way to patch it back together.

Keith Moon, one of rock's greatest drummers, is still sorely missed. Zak
Starkey, Ringo Starr's son who has replaced him, keeps a beat. But Moon
played drums like he was on fire, like a speeding train, always at risk of
running off the tracks.

Bassist John Entwistle's volume was down a notch this time out. He soloed a
couple of times, but didn't really move the music. Townshend held the reins
tightly, as opposed to the maniac, anything goes, days of ``Live at Leeds.''

Singer Roger Daltrey covered the songs and also seemed locked down tight.
Toward the show's end, he complained about the cold and said his voice
wasn't warmed up until the last half hour.

``Don't judge this by the ticket price,'' a guy near me said as he watched
me scrawling notes during the show.

But, sorry, for that much money, I want the singer warmed up from the start
and a whole lot more.

Townshend, still one of rock's great cynics, talked about the price himself
several times.

Early in the show, he chided some people in the front row who weren't
standing up.

``If you want to go somewhere else, you can go,'' he said, petulantly. ``If
you had too much Prozac or gin or paid too much for your seats, I'll give
you your money back. You can go watch Kenny G.''

(Hey, Pete, I'll take $200 back, leave you $106 and we'll call it fair. Send
the check to the address at the bottom of this story.)

Ever the sensitive contrarian, he changed his mind a moment later.

``I'm not making you stand up. I'm just finding someone to hurt.''

He did manage to get the crowd to stay on its feet for the next two and a
half hours, presumably, not out of fear.

He had his hand out a little while later, introducing ``The Real Me,'' from
Quadrophenia by saying that a lot of people have told him that that album
got them through college.

``Some of you people, children who just graduated, should send me a little
checkie. I helped you.''

Sorry, Pete, we paid for the album already and for this concert. Give us a
break.

But that's something you grow to love and hate about this eccentric English
artist, who shares a love/hate relationship with his band, his audience and
himself.

The guy who socked Abbie Hoffman in the face at Woodstock and demanded that
his band be paid at what became a free concert, has always been honest about
his desires and passions of the moment, even if he changes them later.

Remember when he was too deaf to play electric and had to stand behind a
plastic shield? No sign of that this time out. Or his days with his guru? Of
the times he promised not to play with the Who again?

Remember when he told us ``We Won't Get Fooled Again,'' and then did his
best to fool us, again and again?

Contact Brad Kava at bkava@sjmercury.com or (408) 920-5040. Fax (408)
271-3786.

        -Brian in Atlanta
         The Who This Month!
        http://members.home.net/cadyb/who.htm