To the Cockpit Theatre in Marylebone for the Who
Literary Event where six authors, myself included, have been invited to talk
about the group and their books.
Unbeknowst to me until I got there
the event had been brought forward by an hour so I missed Ben Marshall whose Official History I felt obliged to
censure here on Just Backdated a few weeks ago. Had I known that Ben had only
two months in which to write it I would have been more understanding towards the book and, also, laid the blame at the publishers for allowing him so little
time to complete a project that they obviously wanted to publish in the optimum
time slot leading up to Christmas. In my view Ben ought to have been given
at least a year to write a book such as this.
Two
months! Hold that thought while I
digress a little. Tony Fletcher approached me in 1994 with his proposal for Dear Boy: The Life of Keith Moon, which
Omnibus Press published in 1998 to coincide with the 20th
anniversary of the great drummer’s death, and delivered the draft manuscript 12
months before we published the book. Irish Jack and Joe McMichael had spent a
decade compiling The Who Concert File
before they brought the fruits of their research to me to publish. I took Dave
Marsh to the Oldfield, the now demolished pub in Greenford where Keith first stepped up to the
Who drum stool, a good 18 months before I first opened the pages of Before I Get Old. I have no doubt that
Matt Kent and Andy Neill spent half a lifetime compiling material for Anyway Anyhow Anywhere, and we all know
that Pete was posting extracts from Who I
Am on his website several years before the book’s eventual publication in
2012. All of which puts things into perspective and perhaps explains why the Official
History suffered in the way it did, and having now met Ben I am sympathetic towards the predicament in which he found himself. I blame the publishers, the same publishers who incidentally have behaved less than honourably with regards to Matt and Andy’s book.
When I arrived at the Cockpit Mark
Blake was talking about his book Pretend
You’re In A War, which I enjoyed immensely while on holiday in Spain a few
years ago and wrote about here. Mark’s diligence included tracing school
friends of the three eldest members of The Who – Roger, Pete and John – who of
course all went to Acton County Grammar. At least one he traced refused to
speak to him, an altercation with Roger evidently still festering almost 60
years later. “I think Rog bopped him one,” said Mark, prompting a bloke in the
audience to observe that Roger couldn’t smash the skin off a rice pudding.
Well, he felled Pete during those rehearsals for the Quadrophenia tour didn’t he?
Mark was followed by Dougal Butler
and Tony Fletcher but if I’d been organising the event I’d have put them on
separately. Time restraints probably meant they had to be interviewed together
and, inevitably, Dougal got the lion’s share of the time, and he spoke both
amusingly and movingly of the years he spent with Keith. As ever I was left in
no doubt that Moon was a troubled soul, enormously gifted yet somehow unable to
believe that the world wouldn’t love him unless he was constantly performing.
His lack of faith in his own talents was as sad as the manner of his accidental
death, as Tony pointed out. On a lighter note Dougal had us all in stitches
with stories of encounters with Steve McQueen at Trancas, the house where in
1976 Keith lived amongst millionaires by the beach north of Santa Monica.
Keeping those two apart required all Dougal’s diplomatic skills.
I bemoaned the fate of the UK’s
weekly music press and told a few Who stories, some of which can be found here
on Just Backdated, and the afternoon concluded with Richard Barnes and anecdotes
of college life with art student Townshend and their time together in the
Ealing flat where their American pal Tom Wright had left behind the fabulous
collection of blues records that became the basis of The Detours’ stage set.
Barney’s lifelong friendship with Pete has no doubt endured because to him Pete
is still that same ex-flatmate and not a great rock star to whom he might otherwise
genuflect. I can’t help but think that all rock stars need a friend like Barney,
a friend who knew them before the crowds began to cheer and the gold records
piled up in the attic, a friend who’d still be their friend even if no one else
knew their name. Dougal did his best, of course, but perhaps if Keith had somehow maintained a friendship from before fame beckoned the story that Who biographers like us have told might have turned out differently.
Tony F, Dougal & CC
Finally, my thanks to Stuart Deabill for organising this event and inviting me to attend and speak, and to Simon Wells for interviewing me about my adventures with The Who, not really an onerous task as I do tend to bang on a bit...
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