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Twin Town High (vol. 8) |
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Round the Dial
Thursday 11 September @ 14:12:20 |
 by Tom Hallett
QUOTE OF THE WEEK: “Rock and roll? It’s not music. It’s a disease.”
—Columbia Records exec Mitch Miller
SONG OF THE WEEK: “Born With a Tail”
—The Supersuckers
Hey, ho! Welcome to this week’s edition of RTD, where we’ll continue reviewing the once-again massive stack o’ discs occupying that dusty little space next to my desk ...
The Who
Live At The Royal Albert Hall
Steamhammer (2003)
Released not long after bassist John Entwistle’s death, this live show is important for a couple of reasons. Recorded live at the RAH on November 27, 2000, the gig proves that these geezers can still kick the living shit out of ANY modern band who’d dare face them on a stage. Running through the set list, it’s nice to find ’60s proto-punk classics like “I Can’t Explain” and “The Kids Are Alright” nestled comfortably against later rock opera breakthroughs (of which Pete says, between songs, “ ... back in the ’70s, we did these prog rock shows, where there were very serious audiences who would only clap at the ends of the songs ... fuck off!”) like “Pinball Wizard” and “Drowned.”
Both Townshend’s and Daltrey’s voices (though the latter has received some pretty ugly reviews of his vocals in the past few years—not to mention that thing with swingin’ the mic around and around until it hits some poor bastard in the audience on the head, a rock ’n’ roll faux pas so socially relevant that even “The Simpsons” took a potshot at it—I hear nothing but the sweet sonic savagery I’ve always loved here) are in fine form, and Pete’s pickin’ is some of the sweetest (a lot of acoustic, but then when you’ve got the ol’ tinnitus, you tend to choose style over volume) I’ve heard in ages, and guests drummer Zak Starkey and keyboardist John Rabbit Bundrick manage to ALMOST make you forget that original skinman/wildman Keith Moon has long turned to space-dust.
The (double) album is important as a historic event, as well. For this show, which was dedicated to raising money for the Teenage Cancer Society (“Teenage Wards, Not Teenage Wasteland!” screams the motto inside the album jacket), Townshend, Daltrey, Entwistle, Starkey and Bundrick share the stage with a gaggle of “modern” and “classic” rockers, all of whom manage to NOT SUCK here, even though some of them are less than popular, and a few are totally reviled in today’s music scene.
Falling into the former category are Pearl Jam front man Eddie Vedder, whose voice perfectly fits Who classics like “I’m One,” “Getting In Tune,” and “Let’s See Action,” and ex-Jam headman Paul Weller, who brings a bit of Merry Aulde to the proceedings with his contribution to “So Sad About Us,” one of the album’s highlights. Oasis axeman Noel Gallagher sheds his faux-Beatles fixation long enough to put some extra zing into the commercial radio warhorse “Won’t Get Fooled Again,” and in the latter category, even roundly panned Canadian popster Bryan Adams isn’t able to fuck up this grand, glorious rock-a-thon by adding his Kim Carnes/Rod Stewart-esque pipes to chestnuts like “Behind Blue Eyes” and “See Me, Feel Me.”
All in all, not just a collection for die-hard fans, but a great showcase for folks who may not be overly familiar with the British rock gods’ back catalog or for anyone who just wants to feel the kick-you-in-the-groin, balls-to-the-walls electricity of a Who concert now that Entwistle is gone and the likelihood of a show this good from this band ever happening again is almost nil. Although the initial presentation might look a little silly (do we really need the “Summer Of ’69 guy singin’ Who classics?) the guest spots are actually gravy, in an age when “Featuring ... ” has become the buzz word of every rubber-necked MTV/VH-1 suit from L.A. to Jersey. And just hearing John slap that bass silly like he’s got rum in his bum an’ tea in his tiller, well, I gotta say, I got a little choked up listening to this collection an’ thinkin’ that I’ll never see him just BEING a part of The Who onstage again. It’d be great if we could do a prisoner exchange kinda thing with dead rock stars—I’d be happy to send David Cassidy, Kid Rock, and that Iglesias punk who just got a wart removed from his face into outer space in Entwistle’s place, I tell you whut.
And speaking of “The Ox,” this package comes with a bonus disc featuring some of John’s final performances with the band shortly before his untimely passing in a cheesy Hard Rock Hotel in Las Vegas. Don’t even get me started on that shit, man. Hey, where the fuck is that bellboy who scored him the cola, anyway? I mean, was it that the shit was too GOOD or too BAD? And why did nobody ever really track that story down? I mean, does anybody remember JOHN BELUSHI? The ho who scored J.B.’s dope ended up doin’ jailtime and the whole story was laid out in the daily papers. Is it that nobody gives a shit about John Entwistle, or is it that Pete and Rog are members of a secret society that includes current U.S. President G.W. Bush, and therefore the whole thing was covered up and swept under the rug by sunglass-wearing secret agents who double as bellboys for the Hard Rock Hotel? Hmmm .... I smell a USA Made For TV Movie Of The Week Here, how ’boutchoo? Or do I have to shop it to E!? Christ!
All ranting aside, this batch of Limey pie is definitely worth the dinero for anybody who still digs a bit of skewed humor and the sort of rock ’n’ roll wisdom and savvy that only comes from forty-plus years of kicking musical ass amongst towering amps and mind-melding solos. I can’t explain it either, Roger, but when this band was ON, they were, hands-down, the best live rock ’n’ roll band in the universe. The new boss may be the same as the old boss, but there just ain’t no band can take the place of these Happy Jacks, Jack. That’s it for me this week, kids. Until next time—make yer own damn news.
If you have local music gigs/news/events, or you’d just like to share your story about Mary Anne With The Shaky Hand, send replies to: TMygunn777@aol.com.
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