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There once was a note
Pure and easy
Playing so free
Like a breath / rippling by
"Pure and Easy"; Pete Townshend, Lifehouse
It's an essential aspect of the legend of The Who that their greatest album, Who's Next, was born out of the group's greatest failure.
As the follow up to Tommy, Pete Townshend conceived of an even grander project: Lifehouse, a science fiction epic that featured an early form of virtual reality, incorporation of synthesizers (at a level unheard of at that point in pop music), and even fourth-wall-breaking audience participation. The underlying philosophical concept was the Eternal Note: a vibration beyond physical forms that could unite human consciousness on a higher level--literally, the music of the spheres.
The rest of the band... didn't understand it. The preliminary concerts with audience participation? Utter disasters. So, discouraged and defeated, Townshend and his mates went into the studio to salvage the best songs from the project. And from those sessions we got:
Baba O' Riley. Behind Blue Eyes. Won't Get Fooled Again. Masterpieces.
I could ramble on about Lifehouse for a good long time (could I ever) but I just wanted to point out how it represents a pattern in almost all of The Who's music: in each of the band's greatest recordings, the protagonist is destroyed or defeated on the physical plane, but within that defeat is the hope of spiritual rebirth. Tommy loses his acolytes; Jimmy crashes his motorcycle on the rocks at Brighton (Quadrophenia); "meet the new boss, same as the old boss" (Won't Get Fooled Again); Pete Townshend hits bottom, wakes up in a Soho doorway after a drinking binge (Who Are You). Things may not work out, but the quest for spiritual fulfillment is what makes life worthwhile.
And maybe, maybe you need to be destroyed on some level to be open to growth. From perfect despair, there is hope. (Sound familiar, Buffy fans?)
I won't find what I'm after
Till the day I die
"The Seeker," Pete Townshend
They played "The Seeker" at MSG last night, that one and all the other songs of alienation and spiritual restlessness--songs that inspired The Clash, Pearl Jam, Green Day and everyone in between. Townshend didn't do any leaps or knee slides, but his guitar playing was as precise and ferocious as ever (he even treated us to a couple of vintage Townshend windmills).
[Pete was also chatty and funny: "I know you all work very hard at your jobs," he told the audience, "but this job? It's fucking easy!" Daltrey suppressed a laugh. "I don't know how we get paid for this!"]
The rest of the band? Ok, they're not Keith Moon and John Entwistle. But they played those parts with proficiency and passion. The big x factor that juiced up the ensemble was the second guitarist, none other than Pete Townshend's baby brother, Simon. Simon tore off the opening riff of "Pinball Wizard" and even took lead vocal on "Going Mobile"--a "Who's Next" gem never performed live before this tour (that's 54 years on the shelf).
As for Daltrey... he doesn't have the range he once did. His voice is rougher, and he can't sustain notes for long. ("We're fucking old!" said Pete, after Roger needed a re-take at the end of "Love Reign O'er Me.") But it didn't matter. He brought it when he had to and when he didn't, the audience was singing the song with him anyway.
Yes, me too. Every word.
We were just happy to see them, this last time. We wanted to show our appreciation for their music, for the stories they told that enriched our lives. That they were fallible, human, fighting the frailties of age, only brought them closer to us. They were rock gods, but they were also Pete and Roger, two mates who started out in 1961 hoping to make a living in music. In a sense, it was the communal experience that Townshend always wanted for Lifehouse.
[At the end of the show, Daltrey and Townshend stayed on stage to talk to the crowd, and Pete tried to explain the strange, wonderful chemistry he had with Roger. They're not friends. They don't socialize. But the combination, on some higher level, simply works.]
The final song from the full band was "The Song Is Over." It's mostly about the end of a love affair, but it's also about learning from that experience and moving on with your life in new directions. At the end of the song, the band repeated the refrain from "Pure and Easy" above, the Eternal Note showing us the way forward...
So is this really the end? (After all, The Who have retired before.) Whether or not they ever hit the Garden again, last night was special. It was more than enough.
Pure and easy
Playing so free
Like a breath / rippling by
"Pure and Easy"; Pete Townshend, Lifehouse
It's an essential aspect of the legend of The Who that their greatest album, Who's Next, was born out of the group's greatest failure.
As the follow up to Tommy, Pete Townshend conceived of an even grander project: Lifehouse, a science fiction epic that featured an early form of virtual reality, incorporation of synthesizers (at a level unheard of at that point in pop music), and even fourth-wall-breaking audience participation. The underlying philosophical concept was the Eternal Note: a vibration beyond physical forms that could unite human consciousness on a higher level--literally, the music of the spheres.
The rest of the band... didn't understand it. The preliminary concerts with audience participation? Utter disasters. So, discouraged and defeated, Townshend and his mates went into the studio to salvage the best songs from the project. And from those sessions we got:
Baba O' Riley. Behind Blue Eyes. Won't Get Fooled Again. Masterpieces.
I could ramble on about Lifehouse for a good long time (could I ever) but I just wanted to point out how it represents a pattern in almost all of The Who's music: in each of the band's greatest recordings, the protagonist is destroyed or defeated on the physical plane, but within that defeat is the hope of spiritual rebirth. Tommy loses his acolytes; Jimmy crashes his motorcycle on the rocks at Brighton (Quadrophenia); "meet the new boss, same as the old boss" (Won't Get Fooled Again); Pete Townshend hits bottom, wakes up in a Soho doorway after a drinking binge (Who Are You). Things may not work out, but the quest for spiritual fulfillment is what makes life worthwhile.
And maybe, maybe you need to be destroyed on some level to be open to growth. From perfect despair, there is hope. (Sound familiar, Buffy fans?)
I won't find what I'm after
Till the day I die
"The Seeker," Pete Townshend
They played "The Seeker" at MSG last night, that one and all the other songs of alienation and spiritual restlessness--songs that inspired The Clash, Pearl Jam, Green Day and everyone in between. Townshend didn't do any leaps or knee slides, but his guitar playing was as precise and ferocious as ever (he even treated us to a couple of vintage Townshend windmills).
[Pete was also chatty and funny: "I know you all work very hard at your jobs," he told the audience, "but this job? It's fucking easy!" Daltrey suppressed a laugh. "I don't know how we get paid for this!"]
The rest of the band? Ok, they're not Keith Moon and John Entwistle. But they played those parts with proficiency and passion. The big x factor that juiced up the ensemble was the second guitarist, none other than Pete Townshend's baby brother, Simon. Simon tore off the opening riff of "Pinball Wizard" and even took lead vocal on "Going Mobile"--a "Who's Next" gem never performed live before this tour (that's 54 years on the shelf).
As for Daltrey... he doesn't have the range he once did. His voice is rougher, and he can't sustain notes for long. ("We're fucking old!" said Pete, after Roger needed a re-take at the end of "Love Reign O'er Me.") But it didn't matter. He brought it when he had to and when he didn't, the audience was singing the song with him anyway.
Yes, me too. Every word.
We were just happy to see them, this last time. We wanted to show our appreciation for their music, for the stories they told that enriched our lives. That they were fallible, human, fighting the frailties of age, only brought them closer to us. They were rock gods, but they were also Pete and Roger, two mates who started out in 1961 hoping to make a living in music. In a sense, it was the communal experience that Townshend always wanted for Lifehouse.
[At the end of the show, Daltrey and Townshend stayed on stage to talk to the crowd, and Pete tried to explain the strange, wonderful chemistry he had with Roger. They're not friends. They don't socialize. But the combination, on some higher level, simply works.]
The final song from the full band was "The Song Is Over." It's mostly about the end of a love affair, but it's also about learning from that experience and moving on with your life in new directions. At the end of the song, the band repeated the refrain from "Pure and Easy" above, the Eternal Note showing us the way forward...
So is this really the end? (After all, The Who have retired before.) Whether or not they ever hit the Garden again, last night was special. It was more than enough.
