A Sirius/XM deejay alerted me to the fact that The Who performed Quadrophenia last week for the first time in years – and what will probably be the last time ever.
[Sigh.]
It’s not that I regret not having seen it (and given the marketing surrounding the group there’ll likely be a DVD); it even sounds like the theatrics of the event made it slightly wince-inducing. And given how painful it was to watch the Super Bowl halftime show, I doubt that it would’ve been anything more than a nostalgia act. What makes me sigh is the fact that this is my all-time favorite rock album.
Some qualification is probably in order. I previously cited my admiration for Astral Weeks, but I don’t consider that to be “rock” even though that’s where you’ll find it categorized. (I almost said “that’s where you’ll find it shelved in stores” – what an antiquated concept!) And very early on in this blog I sang the praises of a bootleg Springsteen concert, which unquestionably is rock but as a recorded performance doesn’t really qualify for me as an “album.” And while there are albums that are great collections of songs – e.g. Bringing It All Back Home or Exile on Main Street – they aren’t discrete works like Sgt. Pepper or Dark Side of the Moon. Or Quadrophenia.
Others prefer Tommy, but I found that a bit sophomoric after a while, almost cutesy. “Thomas by the Whom,” as one college friend used to call it. Quadrophenia is admittedly somewhat lacking in universality, being a period piece having to do with the rivalry between mods and rockers in 60s England. (The movie helped make the story line a little easier to follow; only problem was it should’ve had subtitles for American viewers.) But you didn’t have to be there, because jeez, does it ever rock.
This is a compelling story by one of rock’s greatest songwriters. The first song sets the tone: “I went back to my mother, I said ‘I’m crazy, ma, help me.’ She said ‘I know how it feels son, ’cos it runs in the family’.... The girl I used to love lives in this yellow house. Yesterday she passed me by, she doesn’t want to know me now.... Can you see the real me, can you?” Two discs worth of unforgettable tracks convey teen angst like few had before or have since. Then the concluding “Love, reign o’er me” delivers the best finale in rock since “I’d love to turn you on.” Every time the record ends, I feel exhausted.
But more than opera, Quadrophenia is a performance by a top band at the peak of its powers. Pete’s blistering guitar soars above never-inappropriate synth & brass. Keith and John are playing at full throttle, making any present-day performance lacking by their absence. And Roger’s voice reminds you why Led Zeppelin never really surpassed The Who as a power-trio-cum-singer. (Imagine the whole album sung by Pete; it just wouldn’t work.)
I didn’t even buy Quadrophenia when it was first released; it was a good six years later that I spotted it in a used record bin and thought I’d give it a listen. I had already turned 30, so it’s not as if there was any identification going on, let alone nostalgia for a time and place I’d never known. It’s just great, solid rock. And the best I’ve ever heard.
[Sigh.]
It’s not that I regret not having seen it (and given the marketing surrounding the group there’ll likely be a DVD); it even sounds like the theatrics of the event made it slightly wince-inducing. And given how painful it was to watch the Super Bowl halftime show, I doubt that it would’ve been anything more than a nostalgia act. What makes me sigh is the fact that this is my all-time favorite rock album.
Some qualification is probably in order. I previously cited my admiration for Astral Weeks, but I don’t consider that to be “rock” even though that’s where you’ll find it categorized. (I almost said “that’s where you’ll find it shelved in stores” – what an antiquated concept!) And very early on in this blog I sang the praises of a bootleg Springsteen concert, which unquestionably is rock but as a recorded performance doesn’t really qualify for me as an “album.” And while there are albums that are great collections of songs – e.g. Bringing It All Back Home or Exile on Main Street – they aren’t discrete works like Sgt. Pepper or Dark Side of the Moon. Or Quadrophenia.
Others prefer Tommy, but I found that a bit sophomoric after a while, almost cutesy. “Thomas by the Whom,” as one college friend used to call it. Quadrophenia is admittedly somewhat lacking in universality, being a period piece having to do with the rivalry between mods and rockers in 60s England. (The movie helped make the story line a little easier to follow; only problem was it should’ve had subtitles for American viewers.) But you didn’t have to be there, because jeez, does it ever rock.
This is a compelling story by one of rock’s greatest songwriters. The first song sets the tone: “I went back to my mother, I said ‘I’m crazy, ma, help me.’ She said ‘I know how it feels son, ’cos it runs in the family’.... The girl I used to love lives in this yellow house. Yesterday she passed me by, she doesn’t want to know me now.... Can you see the real me, can you?” Two discs worth of unforgettable tracks convey teen angst like few had before or have since. Then the concluding “Love, reign o’er me” delivers the best finale in rock since “I’d love to turn you on.” Every time the record ends, I feel exhausted.
But more than opera, Quadrophenia is a performance by a top band at the peak of its powers. Pete’s blistering guitar soars above never-inappropriate synth & brass. Keith and John are playing at full throttle, making any present-day performance lacking by their absence. And Roger’s voice reminds you why Led Zeppelin never really surpassed The Who as a power-trio-cum-singer. (Imagine the whole album sung by Pete; it just wouldn’t work.)
I didn’t even buy Quadrophenia when it was first released; it was a good six years later that I spotted it in a used record bin and thought I’d give it a listen. I had already turned 30, so it’s not as if there was any identification going on, let alone nostalgia for a time and place I’d never known. It’s just great, solid rock. And the best I’ve ever heard.
No comments:
Post a Comment