Intéressante, instructive et parfois amusante... comme d'habitude !
Last Sunday's Observer newspaper listed Endless Wire as one of it's '10 Albums You Must Hear This Autumn'.
This coming Sunday's Observer (17/10/06) contains the OMM magazine, which has Pete and Roger adorning the cover and features an exclusive interview with them inside. The Observer have kindly let us print an extract - the full interview will be available online after the weekend HERE
Hamish
OMM cover
Generation Terrorists
It seemed like it was all over for the Who, one of rock’s defining acts. But with their first studio album for 25 years, and a series of blistering live shows, Pete Towshend and Roger Daltrey are back and as vital as ever. From Live8, the internet and Pete Doherty to the dramas and tragedies that they’ve survived and their own explosive relationship – the Sixties icons talk candidly to Simon Garfield about what drives them forward.
About three years ago, Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey had a conversation that went -something like this.
Daltrey: ‘Whatever you do, Pete, I’ll support you!’
Townshend: ‘Great, because I’ve got this idea that I want to do this musical in Las Vegas called The Boy Who Heard Music.’
Daltrey: ‘Where?’
Townshend: ‘Las Vegas.’
Daltrey: ‘I’m not going there.’
Townshend: ‘But you said you would support me in whatever I want to do.’
Daltrey: ‘Except Las Vegas.’
Townshend: ‘But it’s only in Las Vegas that we’d get the 200 million dollars that I’d need to make my exploding Mirror Door moment.’
Daltrey: ‘Yes, but whatever else you want to do, I will completely support you.’
A short while later, Townshend gave him some early chapters of his novella about three kids in a band.
Townshend: ‘Well, could you read the story, because I want to write some songs about it?’
Daltrey (after reading it): ‘It’s the same old shit, isn’t it? Come up with something new!’
Townshend: ‘But this is it. This is me. I only have one story, one thesis. I’m a cracked record, and it’s going to go round and round and round until I die.’
Such, at least, is Townshend’s recollection of the conversation. He had endured these sorts of dispiriting exchanges with Daltrey before, and decided to press on regardless. One of the first songs he wrote was called ‘In the Ether’, which, like many of his compositions, appears to be about spiritual awakening and the expiation of pain. Townshend considers it, without question, one of the best things he has ever done, proclaiming, ‘I am writing better Stephen Sondheim songs than even Stephen Sondheim is writing!’ Initially, Daltrey was less convinced. ‘I played it to Roger,’ Townshend recalls, ‘and about a month passed. In the end, I got on the phone and said, “So, what did you think?”’
Daltrey: ‘It’s a bit music-theatre. Maybe if you didn’t have piano but just had guitar…’
Townshend: ‘Yeah, and maybe if it was three guitars and was rock’n’roll and sounded like “Young Man Blues” it would be OK.’ And then Townshend put the phone down. ‘I was really, really hurt,’ he says.
But three years later, and 25 years since the last one, we have a new studio album by the Who. Endless Wire contains 19 tracks, 10 of them comprising what Townshend calls a ‘full-length mini-opera’ entitled Wire & Glass. Its creator is 61. He looks his age as he walks into his recording studio in Richmond at the end of August with the latest mix of the CD in a bag over his shoulder, but he looks good with it, not excessively ravaged, grey in a dignified way. He puts the CD into the mixing desk, and Daltrey’s voice fills the air: ‘Are we breathing out/ Or breathing in/ Are we leaving life/ Or moving in/ Exploding out/ Imploding in/ Ingrained in good/ Or stained in sin.’ It sounds like they’ve never been away.
‘In the Ether’ soon follows, as do several love songs, several songs of yearning, and several very angry songs.
The angriest is called ‘A Man in a Purple Dress’, an attack on the trappings of organised religion written after watching Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ. ‘It is the idea that men need to dress up in order to represent God that appals me,’ Townshend explains. ‘If I wanted to be as insane as to attempt to represent God, I’d just go ahead and do it; I wouldn’t dress up like a drag queen.’
The song ‘Mirror Door’ imagines a place where legendary musicians gather after their death to drink and discuss the value of their work. Elvis and Buddy Holly are mentioned, alongside Howling Wolf and Doris Day. It was only after the recording was finished that someone mentioned to Townshend that Doris Day was still alive. ‘I was absolutely convinced she was dead,’ he admits. ‘But I went to the internet and there she was – a fucking -happening website!’
When the album is over, Townshend offers me tea in an upstairs room overlooking pleasure boats and rowers on the Thames. It is time for something he does better than almost any rock star of any age – the analysis of his craft, the opening of a vein in the process of confession. It is hard to imagine that anyone has thought deeper about their role in popular music, or produced such honest appraisals of triumphs and failures.