Tag Archives: Roger Daltrey

August 11th 1975

“Work. In evening went to see Tommy with Debbie, Nig and Kim. Film was absolutely incredible”

I loved, loved, LOVED this movie!

Truth be told I STILL love this movie.

It’s an exercise in excess, Director Ken Russell assulting the senses from start to finish with his adaptation of The Who’s classic rock opera about that deaf, dumb and blind kind (who played a mean pinball).

The casting of the various roles are as bizarre as they are perfect. A manic Tina Turner as The Acid Queen, Jack Nicholson as the Doctor, Eric Clapton as the Preacher, Robert Powell as Tommy’s Dad and Elton John as the wannabe pinball wizard. The lead roles are saved for Roger Daltrey, Oliver Reed – whose singing is, let’s just say, an ‘acquired taste’ – and the rather scrumptious Ann-Margret as Tommy’s unhinged mother.

I have never been able to look a baked bean squarely in the eye since first seeing this in 1975…

Rumour has it the the above scene was Russell’s not so discreet method of ‘revenge’ against the various detergent and bean commercials he was forced to direct at the start of his (eventually long and illustrious) career.

When I got my first VCR, “Tommy” was one of the first films I recorded and then later bought. I likewise snapped it up on DVDs when they hit the scene. Even now, and despite owning the disc and being able to watch it whenever, I will still watch “Tommy” whenever it appears on our TV listings.

Despite all this I still haven’t watched it as many times as The Who’s other movie ‘opus’, the magnficient “Quadrophenia”, but it was easier for me to relate to a scooter-riding mod than it was a would-be religious cult leader!

Some of the magnificent scenes from “Tommy”…

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(1974 Albums) Various Taped Recordings

I have reported in some detail all the records I bought during 1974.

The back pages of the diary also shows a selection of taped recordings I owned – many of which have already been discussed in my 1972 and 1973 entries.

However, there is a tiny handful of other albums I apparently recorded to C-90’s in 1974 that certainly seem worthy of a mention or two….

Clouds – Scrapbooking
Clouds were a Scottish Prog Rock band, unique in not having a lead guitarist amongst its line-up. They signed to Chrysalis Management around the same time as Jethro Tull but never enjoyed the support or public acclaim that Ian Anderson’s one-legged flute antics nurtured.

“The Clouds Scrapbook” was a concept album marketed as being some kind of a companion piece to The Beatles’ “Sgt Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band”. I think we all know how that marketing idea went?

I’m pretty certain I borrowed this album from Tim B who I worked with at Lancaster & Crook. Years later I believe I also bought the LP for 69p from Woolworth’s clearance racks. I never hung onto it and would/could not recognise one single track from it these days.

Leo Sayer – Silverbird
Leo Sayer’s first claim to pop fame was as co-writer of Roger Daltrey’s debut solo single, “Giving It All Away“.

His own career was launched by 60’s pop idol turned actor, Adam Faith. Sayer’s second single “The Show Must Go On” – which Leo performed (strangely) in a Pierrot clown costume – reached Number 2 on the UK chart, a feat which then kickstarted a run of no less than seven consecutive Top 10 singles, including the worldwide #1 smash “You Make Me Feel Like Dancing

“Silverbird” was his debut album and it reached Number 2 on the UK Album Chart. It remains a fixture in my collection and a track or two occasionally pops up on shuffle. The songs are a little bit dated but still well composed and performed. “Oh Wot a Life” is a favourite of mine.

Two bits of Leo Sayer trivia… The first is that Leo now lives in Australia and became a fully fledged Australian citizen in 2009. The second is that “Leo Sayer” is cockney rhyming slang for “all dayer”… an all day drinking session. No wonder he feels like dancing!

Alan Hull – Pipedream
Straight off the bat I will state that “Pipedream” remains one of my favourite albums of all time.

Alan Hull was a member of Newcastle-based folk rock band Lindisfarne who, in the early seventies, enjoyed a run of singalong hits including “Lady Eleanor“, “Meet Me on the Corner” and “Fog on the Tyne

Ructions amongst the band around 1973 resulted in the band breaking up. Three members went off to form Jack the Lad, whilst Alan Hull recorded and released “Pipedream” before eventually agreeing to be part of an “all-new” Lindisfarne. (It didn’t last long, he disbanded the group again in 1975)

“Pipedream” is an album chock-full of lovely gentle little songs all featuring Hull’s pretty unique and pleasing vocal style. Personally, I don’t think there is a bad tune on it and I recommend it wholeheartedly to anyone who likes singer/songwriters. I think my favourites are “I Hate to See you Cry“, “Justanothersadsong”, “Country Gentleman’s Wife” and the opener, “Breakfast”

Hull died suddenly at the age of just 50 – of a heart thrombosis – in 1995. A real loss to the musical firmament.

Funnily enough, as much I like this album I have never even been vaguely tempted to investigate his other solo work. Perhaps it’s about time I did?

Yes – The Yes Album
Although “Fragile” will always remain my favourite Yes album, I’ll admit that (and despite the whole ELP vs Yes rivalry that existed back then) I have also frequently dabbled in their others… “The Yes Album” being a case in point.

For a start it kicks off with “Yours Is No Disgrace“, perhaps one of the best prog-rock album openings of all time. I love the way the Hammond slips in round the back of the drum and guitar intro… it almost gives me goosebumps.

Then there’s the almost hillbilly-esque Steve Howe guitar solo “Clap“, and I suppose “Starship Trooper” can’t be considered too shabby can it?.. even if I personally feel it’s a little too rambling for its own good.

Side Two offers the earworm of “I’ve Seen All Good People” and… well, precious little else as far as I am concerned.  (I’m sure there will be die-hard Yes fans who will disagree with me.)

I’ve never actually owned “The Yes Album” on any format (other than the recording I made in 1974… that counts, right?) although when my wife and I merged our transatlantic CD collections I was happy to see it amongst hers and duly ripped the songs mentioned above across to my i-tunes

Bryan Ferry – These Foolish Things
If we ever wanted to know what kind of singing route Bryan Ferry – and thus Roxy Music – would eventually take, we only have to listen to this 1973 solo album of ‘classic standards’ crooned by the man himself.

It’s as eclectic a choice as it is good. There are certain songs that I heard for the very first time when Ferry sang them (“It’s my Party“, “Don’t Ever Change”, “Loving You is Sweeter than Ever” & “River of Salt”) whilst there are others (“Sympathy for the Devil“, “Don’t Worry Baby” & “Piece of my Heart“) which I actually prefer over the originals!

His cover of Dylan’s “A Hard Rain’s a-Gonna Fall” was and remains peculiar, whilst the magnificently crooned title track, “These Foolish Things“, cemented Ferry’s by-then reputation as a “lounge lizard”

What’s amazing about this album is that the concept – covering old standards – is as succesful today as it was in 1974. Hell, Rod Stewart’s entire post 1999 career has been founded on doing just that with, and I hope Rod won’t mind saying this, pretty lacklustre results.

Do I still like this album? Yes I do. My caveat is that I think Ferry honed the idea to perfection with the second set of solo covers, “Another Time, Another Place” a year later… an album which I am sure will turn up amongst these diary pages in due course.

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(1974 Album) The Who – Quadrophenia

As I think I have stated before, I was far from a huge fan of The Who. Sure, I liked their singles – “Won’t Get Fooled Again” was, is, and always will be, magnificent – but unlike many of my contemporaries the band themselves never grabbed me as an album act.

Then – and sadly I can’t remember where  – I heard “Quadrophenia” for the first time. For whatever reason it really struck a chord with me and is now – if had just one choice – the album I would want with me for musical comfort on that fabled ‘desert island’.

By itself, the album kindled in interest in finding out more about the band – crazy and flamboyant drummer Keith Moon in particular – and researching the mid-60’s “mod” music the story revolved around. It’s fact that, as I have grown older, it has been sixties music I have found myself listening to more than anything else, all – I think – as a result of the influence this album’s backdrop conjured up. So much so that I often joke that I was born 10 years too late, and would have LOVED to have been a Vespa-riding teenage Mod.

I’m being honest with you when I state that I have tried writing this particular post/retrospective review a half-dozen times before. Each time I have somehow stalled, finding myself unable not to go off on long-winded tangents that bear no relevance to the album, or that could ever be of interest to you, the reader.

I think that’s because this album is just so ingrained in my psyche and so very loved by me that I find it hard to be fully objective. With that in mind, I shall keep any overtly ‘gushing’ comments somewhat brief.

If you discount the “A Quick One” project, “Quadrophenia” was guitarist Pete Townshend’s second rock opera opus. Where “Tommy” was about a disadvantaged deaf, dumb & blind kid (who sure played a mean pinball) “Quadrophenia” followed the fortunes (or lack thereof) of a disaffected teenager growing up in a 1964/65 South of England.

Jimmy Cooper, for that is his name, is supposed to be a Quadrophenic, an enhanced (and made up) interpretation of schizophrenia, wherein he is apparently burdened with four personalities.

He lives at home with his perpetually arguing parents and holds down a menial job which pays him just enough to run his scooter and buy the music and fashionable clothes his ‘mod’ lifestyle demands. Track by track the tale unfolds…

I am the Sea/The Real Me“, the segued opening cuts, try to set the scene, with Jimmy going to the doctor, hearing his mother tell him that mental illness runs in the family, letting us know about his job and his lost girlfriend and hinting at drug use.

Quadrophenia”/”Cut My Hair“. This pair of cuts, with all their lush orchestral flourishes, then pad out the story a little, informing us of his leanings towards ‘mod’ and his participation in the mods vs rockers fights that occurred almost every Bank Holiday weekend down on Brighton’s seafront. It culminates with him arguing with his parents over drugs and leaving home.

The Punk & the Godfather” is supposed to represent Jimmy going to a rock concert, then, wacked out on ‘uppers’ trying to meet the band backstage. The band blank him and he decides that music is just another element of his life that has let him down. This may just be THE finest song The Who have EVER recorded. A personal opinion, yes, but I don’t think I’m wrong.

In “I’m One” Jimmy tries to reinforce his own love for the mod lifestyle he has chosen and how it brings him out of himself and “Dirty Jobs” finds Jimmy getting into trouble at work, disagreeing with his colleagues before walking out.

Helpless Dancer” gives us Jimmy’s angry side. He seems angry at…well, the entire world in general. As if to somehow qualify his anger “Is it in my Head?” is Jimmy blaming either the drugs or all the injustices he has been exposed to all his life.

I’ve Had Enough” is something of a pivotal track where Jimmy sees his ex-girlfriend with another guy, then smashes up his beloved scooter in an act of frustration. Depressed and drugged up, he then catches the train – captured perfectly in “5:15” – down to Brighton in an attempt to recapture some of the energy and excitement had last time he was there.

Whilst “The Sea & the Sand” finds Jimmy quite optimistic, the gloom soon reappears inDrowned where he is, quite possibly, at his lowest ebb, contemplating suicide as a way out.

Bell Boy” is Kimmy’s final ignominy as he chances across a fellow mod “face”, who he once hung around with and admired, schlepping bags around for customers at a seafront hotel.

Jimmy then descends into a drug hell in “Doctor Jimmy” before stealing a boat and sailing it to a lone rock in the middle of the sea (“The Rock“/”Love, Reign O’er Me“) and finally finding spiritual redemption. Redemption which, dependent on your own interpretation of things, either finds him dying or obtaining strength to carry on.

Reading that back makes “Quadrophenia” sound like an UTTERLY depressing album doesn’t it? The weird thing is that the album sounds – musically – very joyous and vibrant by comparison to the storyline with only a handful of slow numbers interrupting the excitement.

I didn’t want to say too much about each track individually as this is one of those rare albums which demands to be listened to in its entirety. Whilst the hit single “5:15” is undoubtedly great on its own, it actually makes little sense outside of the story structure where it becomes an intrinsic element. Along with Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon”, “Quadrophenia” was one of the first albums I ‘properly’ listened to. By that I mean I sat down (usually at night with the lights out) and listened to how it was recorded, which instruments went where in the mix and how the story unfolded.

Sonically, it is an utterly immense piece of work, the entire band contributing some of their very finest recorded output, Keith Moon most certainly. I have always said that if anyone is training to be a drummer they should spend a few months listening to “Quadrophenia” and nothing else. I never fail to be shocked when Moonie is overlooked for being “the best drummer ever” in music polls when, to my ears anyway, his drumming was as natural and instinctively played as (for instance) any of Hendrix’s guitar work. Keith’s tricky little fills alone put other drummers to shame.

Then there’s John Entwistle’s bass playing. Playing it like a lead guitar, something he could have written the manual for. His death in 2002 – despite it being the ultimate rock & roll death… a cocaine-fuelled heart attack whilst romping with groupies in a Las Vegas hotel suite – hit me as hard as Keith Moon’s 24 years earlier.

For me, the band died along with Keith in 1978 and whilst I didn’t necessarily begrudge them trying to continue with three original members, now doing so with just two feels like an utter travesty for which I’d really like to punch Pete Townshend in the face. I know he might consider it “his band” and yes, OK, it’s his material and everything, but I just find it disquieting that – for some time now – he has done little more than shill The Who’s finest material to whomever turns up at his door with the fattest cheque. I can’t believe that he or Roger Daltrey can be ‘that poor’ they have to undermine the band’s body of work by allowing it to be constantly used for TV ads or theme tunes. I’m most certainly with (the late and very great) comedian Bill Hicks when he said “Do a commercial, there’s a price on your head, everything you say is suspect and every word out of your mouth is now like a turd falling into my drink

Now, see that’s one of the tangents I can’t avoid going off on when I talk about “Quadrophenia”. It’s a TERRIFIC, AWESOME & BLOODY BRILLIANT album – and I make absolutely no apologies for the ALL-CAPS screaming – but Townshend has been such a money-grabbing prick in recent years that, sadly, I now find it very difficult to listen to it with anything like the regularity which I once did.

If, as rumours suggest, “The Who” are going to play the prestigious half-time show at next years Superbowl, yet another turd will plop into my drink. I wish Townshend – for all his writing props – would realise that the LEAST talented musicians of The Who are the ones that survived and that calling themselves “The Who” is remarkably pathetic and self-delusional. It’s not even “The Who Lite”… it’s more like a karaoke/covers band turning up at your local pub while you’re trying to watch the game.

Anyway, yes… “Quadrophenia”… fantastic album, should be in everyone’s collection, by far the best rock opera ever, is perfect… etc., etc. If you’ve never heard it, may I invite you to my isolated little desert island – far away from ‘shilling pete’ and his apparent CSI fixation – for 81 minutes of sheer musical bliss.

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