Tag Archives: the who

#1383: The Who – Time Is Passing

So I got to know The Who’s ‘Time Is Passing’ via the band’s Odds & Sods compilation. I think I listened to that before I got round to hearing Who’s Next and other studio albums by the band. I know it was definitely before Tommy. But I can’t remember why. A possible reason I can think of, is that I saw it once got a perfect 10/10 score on Pitchfork – in a review you won’t see on the site now – and was convinced enough just by that to check it out. When Odds & Sods was originally released in 1974, it contained 11 tracks and ran for a solid vinyl-record length of 40 minutes and 23 seconds. But when it was reissued in 1998, with CDs being the norm and allowing more available storage, a fine decision was made to double the amount of songs on the compilation, ramping the running time up to a grand 77 minutes. This was the version that was digitally available back in 2011, which was when I first went through the album, though on a now-defunct website called we7.com that was sort of a precursor to all the streaming services that exist now.

‘Time Is Passing’ was one of the tracks added to that ’98 reissue. It was originally written for the Lifehouse rock opera Pete Townshend had envisioned to be The Who’s big follow-up to Tommy. But because no one could understand what the story was after countless explanations, Townshend had a breakdown. It was decided the opera be trimmed down to its highlights, resulting in Who’s Next. But man, with the amount of good music Townshend was writing and The Who were making at the time, Lifehouse could have been the greatest rock album ever. ‘Time Is Passing’ would have been on it, in the opera’s first act, establishing the country lifestyle the protagonist follows and introducing the “music has the potential save us all” theme that anchors the entire plot. Roger Daltrey sings about playing [his] guitar while [his] sister bangs a jar and walking by the sea and other natural/homely things, all the while he yearns to hear a piece of music he feels will set him free (which ties into ‘Pure and Easy’, but that’s opening a whole other can of worms that needn’t be). And for a Who song, it’s performed pretty straight. Just Daltrey singing over the musicianship of Townshend, Entwistle and Moon with that growl of his. It’s strong, strong stuff.

I liked ‘Time Is Passing’ almost immediately. Thought it was very full-sounding to the ears, So much so that I didn’t realise that what I was listening to was a mono mix, made from the right channel of the original stereo which was then forced into the centre. When the track was found for the 1998 reissue, the left channel of the stereo mix was apparently in such a bad condition that it was discarded. I’m sure I read this somewhere, think it was on thewho.net before that site went through changes that made it worse. A person on YouTube used a bootleg and the official release to make an approximation of how the entire soundscape initially was. It turned out there was a keyboard and steel guitar adding a whole other dimension that everyone was missing out on. An official Who-certified stereo mix wasn’t available for the public to hear until 2023 when the Super Deluxe Who’s Next:Life House Super Deluxe edition release was released. Now that’s around, it’s pretty much replaced the Odds & Sods version in my eyes, as much as I do appreciate it for being the initial one I heard. Nothing beats a good stereo mix, though.

#1355: The Who – They Are All in Love

This marks another instance that an album will be represented for the last time on here too. I’ve covered three tracks from The Who by Numbers before, and the presence of ‘They Are All in Love’ today makes it the fourth and final one. Only a third of the album, if my calculations are correct. But even though I may only find that fraction of the record enjoyable to a degree that I’d want to hear it over and over, I’d listen to the thing the whole way through if someone, anyone, out there were to put it on. The lyrical themes are a bit of a downer. It wasn’t labelled ‘Pete Townshend’s suicide note’ by a critic just for show. But if you just want a good rock album with no constructed concept and strong performances, …by Numbers isn’t a bad shout. Out of all those old ’70s rock bands to exist, you may as well go to The Who if that’s the particular type of record you’re looking for. They don’t do too bad on the concept side either.

I remember really not rating ‘They Are All in Love’ when I went through …by Numbers the first time in about 2012 or so. The waltz timing and the dainty piano among everything else on the album made it stick out like a sore thumb. Made it difficult for me to take it seriously, so I never gave it that much attention. But as the years have gone on and I’ve relistened here and there, I’m at the point now where I’ve realised that the tune is essential to the themes of frustration and irrelevancy that thread through the album. When John Entwistle’s half-joking take on getting into the music business with ‘Success Story’ is finished, we zip back to Pete Townshend’s problems with ‘…in Love’. He finds himself being the outsider to pretty much everything that surrounds him and succumbs to his feelings of irrelevancy as he becomes the old man – at the age of 30 – in the young man’s game of rock and roll. When he writes (and Roger Daltrey sings) “Where do you walk on sunny times” or “Where do you fit in (blows raspberry) magazine”, he’s really asking himself “Where do I etc etc.” As a writer, you’ve got to address the audience in some way, and with the second-person narrative, he does easily. But it makes it the more hard-hitting when he switches to first-person in the final verse with the lines, “Goodbye all you punks, stay young and stay high / Hand me my chequebook and I’ll crawl off to die.” It’s a sucker punch.

So who’s the ‘They’ that are in love as the harmonies so delicately lay out in the choruses? To me, I don’t think it matters. ‘They’ could be anyone. The main implication from the lyric is that while everyone else is in love, Townshend on the other hand, isn’t, with anyone or anything. And no one’s loving him either. A downer, to say the least. And this carries on until the album’s end where he tries to force himself into liking the simple things in life while feeling like rubbish (‘Blue, Red and Grey’) and contemplates who he can really trust in his personal life (‘How Many Friends’) to the point where he flat out states he’s lacking direction (‘In a Hand or a Face’). Might be one of the most overlooked streaks on a Who album, those last four tracks on …by Numbers. So it goes to show the 17-year-old I was in 2012, underneath the unserious-sounding music lay a strong song that was actually very serious in its lyrics. The sprightly piano on here is easily the highlight, brought to you everyone’s go-to session musician Nicky Hopkins. He carries everything with those fingers.

#1339: The Who – Tattoo

It’s really come to this. The last song to represent The Who Sell Out in this series. It’s been a ride with that one, with a track from that album appearing in the ‘A’ section way back when. ‘Fun’ isn’t a word you’d use to describe a lot of albums by The Who, but if there was one that could be, Sell Out would probably be it. You’ve got the light radio concept throughout, a toe dip into that style of album before Pete Townshend fully went into the deep end for Tommy. Lighthearted songs with topics ranging from the importance of deodorant to baked beans to Scrooge-type characters. And it’s a showcase of the harmonies vocalists Roger Daltrey, Townshend and John Entwistle could execute, which kind of went away as the albums came along. And listening to the studio banter in alternate takes in that Super Deluxe Edition seem to show the bandmembers having a few laughs or so during the sessions. It sounds like a good time. Sell Out‘s still a bit of a overlooked album in the Who discography, but those who know really know.

‘Tattoo’ is the fifth song on The Who Sell Out and a very plainly told story about a boy and his brother who go to the parlor to get some tattoos to prove their manhood. The dad beats one brother, the mum beats the other. There’s no deeper meaning that what’s sung to you in the lyrics. I kind of remember hearing this one for the first time, on this old website called we7.com, back in the summer of 2010. The way Daltrey was singing, the subject matter, the nothing-left-to-interpretation-ness of it all. This was a very unusual song by The Who, very unlike anything you’d expect by them. It all sounded a bit silly to the 15-year-old I was then. Especially that “rooty-toot-toot” ending. Seemed like they were sort of making fun of what they were singing about. I can’t remember when the change happened that I suddenly saw the light, but I must have done because I can firmly say ‘Tattoo’ is one of my favourites on the entire album. The way Daltrey sings it is really a plus because of how un-Daltrey it is. Those descending harmonies by Townshend and Entwistle at the end of the choruses… just beautiful. Glorious stuff. And I feel like a mention to drummer Keith Moon occurs in a lot of Who posts I do on here, but he takes a backseat on ‘Tattoo’, which lets all the melodies really sink in.

So everyone, if there’s a lesson to be learned today, it’s to listen to The Who Sell Out. Myself, I’ve never been into the 2009 reissue / 2021 Super Deluxe Edition which I think use the original mix as it was from 1967. The 1995 Remix/Reissue, which is listed as being released in 1967 on Spotify and the like, was the edition that I listened to first and that I think contains the best mix out of all the re-releases that have been around. I’m sure that’s the version I’ve hyperlinked above, with the 23 tracks on there. It’s a damn shame that whoever split the songs for the remix of on streaming did a bad job, with the radio adverts playing at the beginning of songs rather than the end, because I feel each song would probably have a lot more plays if the alternate was the case. I did go through a period wondering whether I liked ‘Relax’ or not. By the time I was writing the R’s, I didn’t. But now I do again. So I’ll give that a mention. And the alternative version of ‘Mary Anne with the Shaky Hand’ with Al Kooper on organ. Much prefer that to the actual album version, actually. So, yeah. Wave bye to Sell Out, everybody.

#1233: The Who – So Sad About Us

Another track from The Who’s A Quick One. ‘So Sad About Us’ is a number that I don’t think I paid much attention to when I first heard that album way back in the early 2010s. Other cuts like ‘Boris the Spider’ and ‘See My Way’ were much more to my liking. The latter’s considered to be one of the weaker songs on there, but I’ve always dug it. But at that time, ‘So Sad About Us’ had its own Wikipedia page, so I gathered it must be quite important in some way. According to it, the song’s one of the Who’s most covered songs, with people like The Breeders and The Jam having their own takes on it. It wasn’t until I saw a live performance of the track the Who did (below) maybe only a few years ago that I thought I should maybe give the album version another listen.

Before The Who started getting into making albums with concepts in mind, the music becoming sort of artsy and extravagant as a result, their first two records showcased Pete Townshend’s abilities to write “simple” catchy 3-minute power pop wonders. You think of ‘My Generation’, ‘Substitute’, ‘The Kids Are Alright’. Things of that nature. ‘So Sad…’ falls into that category. It’s a strong performance by the four respective band members, and is more of their straighter numbers by Who standards. The rhythm section is usually the highlight in many a Who song, but I’d say ‘So Sad…’ relies more on the clanging guitar chords and the vocals/harmonies carried out by Roger Daltrey and John Entwistle.

It’s a break-up song, a topic that you rarely ever find in The Who’s catalogue, from the point of view of a narrator who’s upset by the whole situation. No malice is felt toward the other person. There’s no sense of bitterness. Just an honest account of acceptance that time has run out and the relationship is over. The track is two verses, a bridge and a repeat of the first verse surrounded by a memorable refrain of la-la-la’s, but to spice things up a little there’s a key change that occurs nearing the end. Just a general fan of how the song’s executed, to be honest, there’s not much else I can say. Although it’s one of their most covered tracks, I still feel like it’s underappreciated in the grand scheme of things. I’m sure there are a lot of people who don’t know about the song’s existence. But it does, and it’s great.

#1219: The Who – Slip Kid

Sometime in 2012 when I should have really been focusing on studying for my A-Levels but also going through what I think was a sort of depression at the time, I got round to listening to The Who by Numbers. Wikipedia showed that this was the album that the band came back with after Quadrophenia two years before, and through listening it became clear why the record was named the way it was. It was no rock opera like Tommy or Quadrophenia. There was no overarching theme tying the songs like on …Sell Out. No, this time round was a standard, simple ten-track album brought to you by the four bandmembers, just under 40 minutes, doing what they did best. No sign of pretension to be found.

During the album’s sessions, guitarist and songwriter Pete Townshend turned 30. Feeling the pressures of feeling like an old man in the young man’s game of rock and roll and becoming heavily disillusioned with it all, he laid out his feelings in the tracks that would go on to make up …by Numbers. The album begins with ‘Slip Kid’, a warning to the kids who were looking to get into the music business disguised as a track about a young man who has to go to war alongside these older people who have led a long life and are providing this unwanted advice. I’m sure that the whole track is one big metaphor, to be honest. I think the crucial line that really tells what Townshend’s message is in the final lines when Roger Daltrey sings, “You’re sliding down the hill like me” a nod to being “over the hill” which the whole album goes on to delve into for the next half-hour.

The song begins with a loop of handclaps and percussion (cowbell on the left, tom-toms on the right) which persists throughout, with the rest of the band joining in together after a swift count-in by Townshend. Two simultaneous riffs provided by premier session player Nick Hopkins on the piano and Townshend on guitar get things going, before Daltrey gets his gritty vocals. Just in the introduction alone, there’s enough memorable melodies to go around. Daltrey’s tougher vocals contrast with the softer tones of Townshend and John Entwistle’s backing harmonies with fine effect. The latter’s bass line is one to recognise as per usual, particularly how it mirrors the backing vocals during outro. And unusually Keith Moon takes a bit of a backseat on the drums, staying mainly on the hi-hat and snare. Slip Kid’s a very steady number. Doesn’t announce itself with a bang like ‘The Real Me’ or possess the wait of anticipation like ‘Baba O’Riley’, but does the job in its own firm, secure way.