It's time for a confession of sorts; when I started home recording in music, there was one artist who had done it all before me, with great success; Pete Townshend of the Who. It is well known that he created detailed demos of all the songs presented to the band that he recorded at home. Engineers as skilled at the great Glyn Johns have raved about them, about how difficult it was to match their qualities at times. He did it in the bad old analog days, before computers made it easy for even a chump like me to manage it.
It is also a well known fact that Pete likes to talk - a lot. Much of the information over the years is colored by the immediate situation, most of it goes to one or another emotional extreme. On the whole, Townshend is an unreliable narrator of both his own musical output and his story with the Who, in particular relationships with the managers Chris Stamp and Kit Lambert. The history of the Who is too well know for me to dwell on, but the internal politics are somewhat glossed over. The relationship with Lambert and Stamp, in all its gory details, has only recently emerged.
Some bands worked on a 'majority wins' system. The Who were set up so that if any one band member vetoed something, it was blackballed. That explains why there were so many unreleased songs by the Who, especially before 1972. Starting with 'Odds & Sods', later on with special editions of their early classic albums, most of this material saw the light of day. At the time, it was difficult for Pete to sell his new composition to the other members. After all, they were a pretty salty bunch, especially Keith Moon.
There was always a fear among the other band members that Townshend would take over the band. That was why he never produced them (except for one brief experiment in 1970); it would give him too much power and control. Townshend's earliest demos are very rough, simple guitar/vocal affairs, perhaps adding an overdubbed harmony. It was with the encouragement and assistance of Kit Lambert that Pete set up his first home studio, adding more instruments into the mix. By presenting a more finished composition, including rudimentary bass and drums, the other members could see how they could improve the song with their performances. Throughout the 1960s, they did consistently make the demos into full-fledged Who songs.
Lambert and Stamp made every management mistake in the books; the Who succeeded as much despite them as they did because of them. One big mistake was favoring members of the band. Lambert in particular bestowed more money and attention to Moon and especially Townshend. No matter how broke the band was, Pete got better home studio equipment. The Who went beyond insolvency into deep depth, so deep that when they tried to break up in early 1968, they would have had to pay off over a quarter million pounds, a huge sum at the time. It cost less to keep together, so they did.
The Who also defaulted on projects frequently, their discography being noticeably short on new albums over a career lasting more than fifty years. There was supposed to be a Rock Opera called 'Quads' in 1966, announced to the press. They missed studio albums in 1968 and 1970 when it was common for rock bands to do up to two albums a year. It wasn't because they weren't recording; the sheer volume of unreleased material shows that they were constantly working on new material.
Kit Lambert - again - kept encouraging Townshend to think big, to go beyond a mere three minute single. Kit's father had been a bigwig in the classical music world in England. Kit most certainly had a chip on his shoulder, constantly conspiring with Pete to do something more grandiose than the rock world had ever seen. It eventually struck gold with 'Tommy', yet none of the other members of the group had any real interest in such a complicated project. It was the presentation of a nearly complete set of demos that convinced them to go ahead with the project.
Even the success of 'Tommy' failed to make the band any real money. Lambert and Stamp had a history of bad deals, especially breaking a production contract with Shel Tamby in early 1966, that was ruinous to their finances. Tamby, with Glyn Johns producing, had done an excellent job in capturing the young Who in the studio on their first couple of singles and first album. When the managers walked out of that, Shel sued successfully, with Glyn Johns as the star witness. As a result, 15% off the top of all record sales worldwide when to Tamby's production company until the end of 1970. Ouch!
Townshend's life was changing, too. He married in 1968; the couple had children. After a horrible acid trip on the way back from Monterey Pop in 1967, he gave up drugs, finding a spiritual mentor, Meher Baba. Increasing, he found his home studio a place of solitude, a quiet zone away from the boisterous noise of the Who. It wouldn't take long for the studio and his new-found religious beliefs to cross paths.
As early as 'Tommy', there is a spiritual feeling to the music. many of the songs are about being deaf, which is the ultimate form of quiet. Even the way it was recorded in the studio emphasizes noise sneaking up on you, as in 'Sparks/Amazing Journey'. The follow-up single, 'The Seeker', is a flatfooted song nakedly about a spiritual quest. Too dogmatic, it flopped deservedly.
Around the same time, Pete bought a real home and set up a decent studio, complete with all the toys he could ever want. He set about making a charity album for his guru, recording songs with friends like Ronnie Lane. It was privately pressed and discrete. When the lawyers found demos of Who songs and new Townshend composition with no copyright, they were not happy.
The Lifehouse sessions are now famous, producing one of the greatest rock albums ever. It was a nightmare for Pete, despite presenting the band with immaculate demos of every song. His concept was rejected by everybody; band, managers, even co-producer Glyn Johns, now back in the fold. Worse, Lambert and Stamp had slid into drug addiction, becoming more of a problem than any assistance. Reducing his material to one fantastic album seemed like a betrayal. To this day, Townshend continually threatens to resurrect the project.
What is not well known is that Pete suffered a serious nervous breakdown at the end of 1971. At the moment of the Who's biggest triumph, he was falling apart. Without Townshend, the Who could not exist. Bad management, a nutso drummer, and the pressures of producing new material while being on the road still leaves him to this day with a sour taste in his mouth about the album. To rebuild his ego while getting a legal monkey off his back, he released his first solo album, consisting mostly of demos from Meher Baba projects, 'Who Came First'.
'Let's See Action' above shows the problem that was starting to emerge, growing larger over the next few years. It was released simultaneously as another Who flop single of the same song. Their version isn't quite as good as Pete's. In particular, the straight 4/4 drumming did not play to Keith Moon's strengths. This song has only shown up on the occasional box set, demonstrating its low reputation within the group.
Keith Moon was a great drummer, but his style was completely unorthodox, to say the least. He never practiced, instead leading a life of total debauchery. He rarely played drums outside the context of the Who; John Entwistle, the master bass player in the band, covered for the lack of a solid beat with his playing, just as he provided lead parts while Pete leapt about. Keith rarely used a high hat, which drummers use to keep the beat internally, even if the audience can't hear it. Moon didn't bother with one live.
The biggest issue concerns how a demo is recorded; you need a click track to sync all the instruments. Moon was not a click track drummer. He gave one great performance to one on 'Baba O'Reilly'. After that, it was all downhill. By the American Quadrophenia tour, it was no surprise that, expected to play for an hour to a click track, Moon overdosed on animal tranquilizers instead. He knew that it was beyond his unique skill set.
Townshend was only marginally better; he drove himself to his second nervous breakdown during the recording of the 'Tommy' movie soundtrack. It is an amazing piece of work, taking a full year. Whatever your opinion of the movie 'Tommy' - personally, I love every excessive frame - the soundtrack is a marvel, despite questionable vocals from Oliver Reed and Jack Nicholson. Pete finally got to record in true quadrophonic sound, abandoned as too expensive on the previous album. Every sound effect was done by Townshend on a synth, perfectly timed to the action. It was a grueling, booze drenched marathon.
No wonder the next Who album sounds more like a suicide note than a rock celebration. 'Who By Number' effectively signaled the end of their glory days, although the Who always excel as a live band. Townshend's increasingly sophisticated songs were either rejected by the band or too difficult for Moon to play. It is rumored that Keith didn't play on one 'By Numbers' song. It is acknowledged that he didn't sit behind the kit on 'Music Must Change' from 'Who Are You'.
Moon did nothing to help the situation. By 1977, needing some live footage for their group biography, 'The Kids Are Alright', the Who did their only live performance in 1977. Moon can barely keep up on the old standards. None of the footage was used except Pete screaming at the audience in frustration between songs. The concert was unreleased for decades. It is embarrassing to watch.
Townshend knew it over with Keith as the drummer, as did the rest of the band; they just didn't want to admit it. Kenny Jones was used on all but one song for the 'Tommy' soundtrack. Charlie Watts was hired for the Pete Townshend/Ronnie Lane album 'Rough Mix'. Those guys kept steady beat. Moon exploded a song, tearing it apart from the insides. Pete needed a time keeper for his material, made even worse by using drum machines on his demos.
Moon died; it should have been the end of the Who, but it wasn't. There had just been a huge investment in the Shepperton Studios facilities. Once again, it was cheaper to keep going, even though it was the wrong thing to do. By 1982, it was over, supposedly for good. Keith died just in time to ensure his legacy. The Who needed countless reunion tours to maintain theirs.
Pete had a solo career going by the time the group folded in 1982, although it would fall apart shortly. The very next year, he released the first of three 'Scoop' collections, generous portions of his demos, mixing Who material with songs written but considered not suitable for the band. Later, complete sets of 'Tommy' and 'Quadrophenia' demos were released, showing how good an architect of the Who sound Townshend had been.
Pete demonstrated over decades a remarkable work ethic. While the rest of the band and even the management were out enjoying the fruits of rock stardom, he was squirreled away at home alone, creating the Next Big Thing. The pressure became too much frequently; he seemed to punish himself on a regular basis. The demos are a shining light for anyone looking to learn how to record a complete band by yourself. He did it, often magnificently.
No comments:
Post a Comment