TALL TALES: THE WHO – QUADROPHENIA & MORE

13 Feb TALL TALES: THE WHO – QUADROPHENIA & MORE

Editor’s note: Telluride Inside… and Out’s monthly (more or less) column, Tall Tales, is so named because contributor Mark Stevens is one long drink of water. He is also long on talent. Mark is the author of “Antler Dust” and “Buried by the Roan,” both on the shelves of Telluride’s own Between the Covers Bookstore, 224 West Colorado Ave, Box 2129. He is also a former reporter (Denver Post, Christian Science Monitor, Rocky Mountain News) and television producer (MacNeil/Lehrer NewsHour), now working in public relations. The following is Mark’s review of a concert that took place at Denver’s Pepsi Center on February 12.

The Who, the view from on high

The Who were in town. They’ve been at this rock and roll thing for about 50 years. Wikipedia says the group started in 1964 and have sold 100 million records. They’re starting to get their act together.

The opening act was a knock out. It began promptly at 7:30 p.m. as if synced to Greenwich Mean Time. The group is from Los Angeles and calls itself Vintage Trouble. The prompt factor doesn’t add to the illusion of “trouble,” but what the heck.

The lead singer is Ty Taylor and on the band’s website he lists influences from Otis Redding to Albert King. Easy to see. The band is funky, soulful and very likable. When they finish, the members of Vintage Trouble take to the aisles of the half-filled Pepsi Center, high-fiving fans. It’s one cool move.

In the $72 nosebleed seats, just a few rows from the top of the Pepsi Center, a young couple sits down next to me. The guy is 24 and works in the automobile parts business, but not for long. He’s due to join the U.S. Army in a few weeks. His girlfriend is 22 and works as an assistant in the office of a physical therapist. The tickets were a Christmas present from her father, a giant fan of The Who. The gift was a big deal. The dad lives in Philadelphia and, as she waits for the show to begin, the young woman uses Facetime (video telephony) to chat with her father and to show him the location of their seats.

The young couple next to us is not typical. The crowd skews older. A sleeve of tattoos pops out of the crowd, a head of pink hair too. There’s a band of teenage females and a few younger kids with their parents. The merchandise tables are numerous—and busy. One of the t-Shirts on the board sells for $80.

After a short break, The Who walk in to the opening sounds of “Quadrophenia,” one of their epic rock operas.

Roger Daltrey was born March 1, 1944. Pete Townshend was born May 19, 1945 (11 days after V-E Day). They are, generally speaking, three times older than the couple sitting next to me. Townshend uses a music stand. Can you blame him?

Their age doesn’t matter. The Who crank through “Quadrophenia,” start to finish. It’s seamless, beautiful. “Quadrophenia” is a moody piece. Moments of hard rock are smack up against introspective numbers.

“Quadrophenia” is about the four personalities of The Who and how they all work together. It’s about different sides of one personality. It’s about a group. It’s about drugs and dreams and The Mods and the streets. Or something like that. It’s fragments and pieces, shards of images and moments—jagged in spots, smooth in others.

But, of course, the group isn’t quite the same. John Entwistle died in 2002 and Keith Moon checked out way back in 1978 so replacements (respectively Pino Palladino and Scott Davis, substituting this evening for the injured Zak Starkey, son of Ringo Starr) fill out the band. There are also three keyboard players and a two-piece horn section. Pete’s brother Simon plays a big role most of the night on guitar and vocals, too.

“Quadrophenia” is good and the audience is appreciative as the “opera” rolls out. There’s air drumming in the seats, a few fists pumped, and polite applause. But then we finally come to “5:15,” which was originally the first song on side three of the double-album, first released in 1973.

And that’s when the night takes off. The band starts stretching out “5:15,” a driving number with tons of energy. Behind the band are a series of video screens. Two screens on the flank are rectangular and carry live video of the band up-close. Three other screens behind the band are oval, one larger and two smaller, and they are draped there like large medallions. They have been carrying a series of old clips all night long, adding to the mood.

Suddenly Entwistle is up there on the oval screens with his jaw clenched and his fingers flying and he’s jamming with drummer Davis, who is of course playing “live.”

It’s an unbelievable moment, partly because it’s so well executed and partly because you can’t believe Entwistle is right there and the sound is good and, of course, the wild series of runs coming off his bass. It’s as if Entwistle and Davis have an otherworldly version of Facetime, which allows communication with spirits.

The video of his old buddy seems to fire up Townshend and a few songs later they pull the same trick during “Bellboy,” when Moon is synced for his singing parts and Daltrey puts his back to the audience and stares up at his long-gone pal. Moon is goofy at his drums, fumbling with headphones that are wrapped in duct tape, but he looks right at home and he nails his bit.

By the time the band hits the shimmering “Love, Reign O’er Me,” every member of the audience, young and old, belongs entirely to The Who.  The 22-year-old soon-to-be soldier leans over and tells me: “This is my absolute favorite all time song.”

“Quadrophenia” is greeted with enthusiastic applause and Townshend finally speaks about his few days in Denver. “This place gets better and better and better,” he says.

Of course, The Who are not done. We have spotted the “and More” on the ticket.  It says right there on the ticket, “Quadrophenia and More.”

So they run through “Who Are You,” “Behind Blue Eyes,” “Won’t Get Fooled Again” and “Baba O’Riley.” Townshend has got the windmill going full force now and Daltrey has shown us all his tricks with a microphone attached to a cable.

Finally, it’s just Townshend and Daltrey on stage doing “Tea and Theatre,” a track from their last album of original material, released seven years ago.  Daltrey is holding a mug that sports an image of the Union Jack.

It’s just the two of them, 50 percent of The Who.

“Be healthy,” says Daltrey. “Be happy, and be lucky.”

The house lights come up.  Yes, we are.