Welcome to part 1 of a new regular feature, called Under The Influence. Once a month, Shawn will reflect on his musical influences, and explore the myriad ways that music impacts our lives.
My first Who album was Quadrophenia.
It was a Christmas present from my parents in 1983 (along with Led Zeppelin II).
It changed my life.
No kidding. As a kid growing up on the north side of Fredericton, living in a modest bungalow on Hawkins Street, that LP was like a call to action. You may think you know what music is, what it can do, and then boom! Ladies and gentlemen, Keith Moon! Drummers are mad hatters, and Moon was the maddest of them all. The explosion of noise produced by simply lowering the needle on the record was so thrilling to me that I could hardly bear it.
As I fell deeper and deeper in love with the album, I started to note other artistic assets in The Who. The writer’s point of view was tough, but sensitive, even empathetic. The record told a story, and even had a fictional backgrounder included in the gatefold. The bass player dominated the sound of the band. Thunderous, manic baselines drove the songs. The music sounded like it was on the edge of collapse, yet it never fell apart. The Who were smart, loud, and just competent enough to be dangerous. I could relate.
To this day, aside from The Beatles, Wings, et al, The Who are my “other” favourite band.
After chatting with my friend Alan the other day, I remembered one of my life regrets. I never saw The Who live. Alan did. Twice. Bastard (just kidding, Alan). And he doesn’t even remember what year(s) he saw them. Unmitigated gall.
I may not have seen them live, but I can justifiably blame Peter Townshend for at least some of my musician-related hearing loss (and Gordie Johnson, but more on that in future substacks). My guitar could simply never be loud enough. If The Who were the loudest band in history according to the Guinness Book of World Records, I could do my best to be as loud as possible. Represent.
Turns out, that can negatively impact your hearing in your advancing years. Who knew.
I still love them anyway. If you have not explored the catalog of “the ‘orrible Who”, as Roger Daltrey once called them, you might want to dig in. You could start with the big albums - Who’s Next, Tommy, Live at Leeds. The Who By Numbers and Who Are You are worthy late-career albums. Face Dances for the Kenney Jones Years. And for the early years, try Meaty, Beaty, Big and Bouncy, a stellar collection of early Who singles - Can’t Explain, My Generation, Pictures of Lily. There’s a lot to love.
Let’s also give a shout out to The Kids Are Alright, one of the greatest rock documentaries ever made.
And never fear, there are Beatle connections. Pete Townshend played with the last iteration of Wings on Back To The Egg (Rockestra, So Glad To See You Here), and on McCartney’s 1986 album Press To Play, joining Phil Collins on Angry. John Entwistle (The Ox, as he was affectionately known by his band mates) was a member of Ringo Starr’s All-Star Band.
After hearing The Who, I knew, KNEW, I had to be a musician, and I had to form a band. My life has unfolded, accordingly.
Thank you Pete, Roger, John and Keith. Luminaries and lunatics.
Sometimes a record is so formative it can feel like destiny, but as Townshend wrote, “Nothing is planned by the sea and the sand”.
