To coincide with the 50th anniversary of Tommy,
Bass Guitar magazine has commissioned me to write an appreciation of John for
their May issue. In the fullness of time I’ll post it here but in the meantime here's some extracts. I nicked the sub-title from a phrase that Pete
used in his Who I Am book.
… John [Entwistle]
was a bass guitarist, not a bassist, perhaps even a guitarist who played bass,
and this distinction – which he made himself – is important. “I found bass very
boring,” he once said. “I wanted to turn it into a solo instrument and the only
way to do that was turn up the treble.” In another interview he even went as
far as to say that The Who didn’t have a bass player.
So
it was that audiences never really appreciated what John was playing because
the sounds that came from his speaker stacks appeared as if they were coming
from [Pete] Townshend’s guitar, or even a pre-recorded low register synthesiser.
Coupled with the guitarist’s attention-grabbing style – the leaping around and
windmilling – not to mention the antics of [Roger] Daltrey and [Keith] Moon, no
one paid much attention to the chap on the left in the brightly coloured
jackets who simply stood there and played. What they missed was a display of
extraordinary but largely inconspicuous fluency, a player whose technique
involved not just plucking his strings with his thumb and every finger of his
right hand, but tapping them and switching periodically to a plectrum, bending
and hammering on and off notes, vibrating trills and unexpected bell-like
harmonics, glissandos that occasionally slid up and down his entire fretboard,
parts that echoed or reinforced lead riffs and vocal lines, and even chords
strummed across two or more strings that created an all-enveloping wash of
low-frequency resonance. What’s more, he made it look easy.
“John
got attention simply because he stood so still, his fingers flying like a
stenographer’s, the notes a machine-gun chatter,” wrote Townshend in Who I Am, his 2012 autobiography. “And
through it all, as if to anchor the experience, John stood like an oak tree in
the middle of a tornado.”
When after a break of seven years Townshend
agreed to tour again with The Who in 1989, he stipulated
that because loud noise had damaged his hearing he would do so only if John significantly
reduced his on-stage volume, a condition that required The Who’s stage personnel
to be substantially reinforced. With Simon Phillips now on drums, they were augmented by a further twelve
musicians, all to compensate for John turning down. “The
only way we could add [John’s] harmonic richness,” said Townshend, “was to add
brass, second guitar, acoustic guitar, two keyboards, backing vocals and people
banging gongs, because that’s what John used to replicate.”
“He had a technique that was light
years ahead of everybody else at the time,” said keyboard player Rick Wakeman,
who studied at the Royal College of Music. “Nobody played like John.”
“Best bassist in rock’n’roll,” added
Lemmy. “No contest.”
… In the third
week of December, 1972, I visited John at his semi-detached house in the west
London suburb of Ealing, ostensibly to interview him for Melody Maker about his second solo album Whistle Rhymes. By this time I had edged myself into the role of Melody Maker’s unofficial ‘Who
correspondent’ and charmed my way backstage at several concerts, so I knew him
reasonably well. He was a friendly, down-to-earth man, quite softly-spoken and
reserved when he wasn’t performing, and he took compliments like a pinch of
salt, wryly amused by his reputation as a disciple of the macabre; “big bad black Johnny Twinkle,” as
Moon once yelled on stage, to which Townshend added, “with the flying fingers”.
John and his wife Alison welcomed me
into their home. It was the kind of house you might expect a moderately
successful and well-travelled businessman to occupy with his family,
comfortable but not ostentatious, perfect for the character in The Kinks’ song
‘Well Respected Man’. Some wags within the Who camp were suggesting John should
run for Mayor of Ealing.
… About 90 of John’s bass guitars, among them several
instruments that he had played onstage with The Who, were sold in 2003 at
Sotheby’s Auction Room in South Kensington, along with a similar number of
guitars and many brass instruments. The sale, which also included Who
memorabilia, stage clothes, antique chandlery and casts
of game fish, raised about a million quid.
Watching
the auctioneer’s hammer come down alongside me were grieving fans eager to bid
for a little piece of John Entwistle. In the last
decade of his life they had seen him performing not only with The Who but also
with bands of his own, and the lack of renown he’d suffered in the early part
of his career was now a thing on the past. These loyal fans deeply appreciated not
just John’s immense skills as a musician but the touching allegiance he had
always shown towards them. Within
the Who fan community it had become well known that after both his own and Who shows,
John would remain behind to socialise, happy to answer questions about his
equipment, his playing style and The Who, and sign autographs for one and all.
I cannot think of any other rock star of his stature who was more gracious to
fans, the lifeblood of the music industry after all, than John, nor fans who
appreciated this princely attitude so much.
The
last time I spoke to John was backstage at Wembley Arena after a Who show on
November 15, 2000. The hospitality area was crowded with men and women far
younger than me or the group and there was no sign of Townshend or Daltrey but,
as ever, John was in the midst of the throng. Grey-haired and looking older
than his 56 years, he was slightly tipsy I think, and when he saw me he offered
a warm smile of recognition.
“I
don’t know a soul here apart from you,” I said to him.
“Neither
do I,” he replied, laughing.
You can order this issue of Bass Guitar in print at https://bit.ly/2VyqhdJ and digital at https://bit.ly/2WOyvvl.
You can order this issue of Bass Guitar in print at https://bit.ly/2VyqhdJ and digital at https://bit.ly/2WOyvvl.
I had the pleasure of meeting John October 19, 2001 after he played the Wolf’s Den at Mohegan Sun Casino for a few hundred fans. Although he was playing with The Who in the Concert for New York he stayed and met fans. Class guy!
ReplyDeleteEverything written so eloquently and so true. My brother and I can both attest to the man's generosity and attention to fans; he truly was a regal presence.
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