Inertia never
suited The Who. They thrived on fast paced energy and produced their best work when
their backs were against the wall. Three years between the release of The Who
By Numbers and Who Are You was the longest gap ever between Who
releases and in the meantime much had occurred, none of it beneficial to the
group’s cohesion and impetus. Never the closest of colleagues outside of the
recording studio and the stage, during these three years the four members of
The Who had grown apart in so many ways that they no longer resembled anything
remotely like the gang they’d once been. Pete’s spiritual and intellectual
quests were ongoing but frustrating, and his musings were quite alien to Roger,
the practical, workmanlike grafter who just wanted to get on with the job and
not philosophise about it; John was simply a supremely skilled professional
musician who wanted and needed to work regularly; Keith, his marriage now over,
was wasting away in California, sick with alcoholism, lonely and desperate for
something besides the disintegrating Who to fill an empty life.
Pete knew that the only way the group
could survive was to steer them in new directions. The other three resisted the
insecurity of change. Given half the chance, Pete would have broken up the
group before Who Are You was recorded, but he felt a loyalty to his
three colleagues, especially Keith, and soldiered on regardless. The result is
a transitional album based largely around synthesizer patterns that could have
pointed the way to the future were it not for Keith dying within a month of its
release. In a stylistic shift that would become more apparent later, the
arrangements of the songs – and the songs themselves – are more complex than
ever before, and they tend to meander where once they would have been blunt and
to the point. As would also become the pattern in future, John’s songs take
greater prominence, and Roger sings an Entwistle song for the first time on
record.
Moon’s accidental, but tragically
predictable, death on September
7, 1978 completely overshadowed the album’s release. Ironically, he
is photographed on the cover sitting on a chair with the words ‘Not To Be Taken
Away’ on its back; the other irony is that on one song, ‘Music Must Change’,
Keith didn’t play drums because he couldn’t handle its unusual tempo. “But I’m
the best Keith Moon style drummer in the world,” he is reported to have told Pete
when he couldn’t play it. Moon wasn’t firing on all cylinders throughout the
recording and it shows, but perhaps this is what Pete might have wanted. Moon,
more than any of his three colleagues, represented the thundering recklessness
of the old – and younger – style Who.
The album provided the post-Keith group
with three new stage numbers, the title track, ‘Sister Disco’ and ‘Music Must
Change’, but only ‘Who Are You’, one of the last great songs The Who recorded, has
endured. It’s about the day in January 1977 when Pete attended a meeting to
sort out The Who’s tangled financial affairs, and came away with a cheque for
seven figures. Many would have been delighted at this outcome, but Pete was
disgusted with himself. He was a musician, not a businessman. That night he got
paralytic at The Speakeasy, the London rockbiz club, where he encountered two
of The Sex Pistols who pronounced themselves Who fans. This only aggrieved Pete
more, so he tore up the cheque and left the club pie-eyed, slumping into a
doorway where he spent the night. At dawn, he was awoken by a policeman, who
recognised Townshend and sent him on his way. Reaching home in Twickenham, his
wife Karen was waiting for him. “Where have you been?!” she asked. “I’ve been
to hell and back,” Pete groaned through his hangover. While this tale forms the
lyrical basis for ‘Who Are You’, the musical core is the lengthy prologue,
mid-section and close, in which the title is repeated in a looping
synthesizer-propelled chant similar to the sound of middle-eastern Sufi dancers
in a trancelike state. Although it ebbs and flows, and at one point Pete plays
an acoustic refrain, it embodies all the energy of past Who classics and at
over six minutes is far and away the most arresting track on the album. Even
Keith manages to keep up the tempo on this one. Roger ad-libs “Who the fuck are you”
and, when performed in concert, demonstrated his physical fitness by running on
the spot during the instrumental break.
‘Who Are You’ aside, the album failed
to open up new possibilities for a group that was stumbling after 14 remarkable
years together. Although Keith’s death freed The Who from the grip of the past,
the future, as the final two albums would demonstrate, turned out to be a
barren land all the same, creatively at least. Who Are You reached
number six in UK and two in US. A remixed and remastered version of Who Are You was released in 1996 and
included five additional tracks, including two of Pete’s demos and alternative
versions.
1 comment:
Great piece Chris - you sum the album up well. Knowing that it was Moon's last always makes it quite poignant to listen to. For me, the Who were over when Moonie died because as with Entwistle, he was part of the engine room which drove the band. No drummer could have replaced Moon so I quite felt sorry for Kenny Jones because he was on a hiding to nothing and that was great shame because he was a solid drummer with roots closely aligned to their own. Keep up the blogs though - I really enjoy reading them!
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