Tuesday, 31 December 2019

Album of the Month: WHO by The Who


Everything makes sense in the end. The decade has come to its end, and the final album to be reviewed will be the low-key return of The Who. It makes sense because The Who is where it all started for me. Not just a decade - everything. The world collapsed, or else it probably emerged, one August morning almost twenty years ago now, when I was lying in bed and my sister pressed play. A CD she had brought from America, one with black diamonds piercing the light blue surface of the album cover. It was Tommy by The Who. The weak sun, the reluctance to get out of bed, the blue record player crouched under a vast collection of music I did not yet possess. But I would, soon enough, because the first chords of "Overture" had me for life. 

Then came nights spent in headphones, memorising every lyric of "I Can See For Miles" and trying to sing along to "Helpless Dancer". Days of flipping through the black and white booklet of Quadrophenia until the edges became torn and frayed. Then came web forums appraising and reappraising every song written by Pete Townshend. Live albums, bootlegs, b-sides. Life-size posters, oversized T-shirts, interviews cut out from music magazines. Then came my first album reviews which were mostly me lambasting Internet critics for lambasting Face Dances. And now that I look back on those days - were they dark? Because I cannot tell. Because without them - how am I supposed to be sure that I lived?

A lifetime has passed since then. A lifetime and a mediocre comeback album called Endless Wire. These days, I no longer listen to The Who all that much. I guess I could still get all emotional and cry at some points in Tommy. I could still sense the adrenaline rush during that scream at the end of "Won't Get Fooled Again". Hell, it could still get ugly if someone told me that Face Dances was a bad album (because it was not). But somehow - it never comes to that anymore. In fact, when I heard of The Who's new album, there was barely a hint of excitement. The Who? Eponymous album in 2019? In December? It felt unnecessary. Worse, it felt wrong.

Which is why it was so awkward, and so shocking, that The Who's new album turned out to be good. It actually took me a while to realise that I was not just being delusional or nostalgic and that my ears were not fucking with me. That The Who really did have the songs this time. Songs injected with urgency and hooks unheard of since 1981. Almost a miracle, especially if you take into account that the record had Townshend and Daltrey work by post. 




I do not wish to oversell it. There isn't a "Bargain" here. Nor a "Substitute". Instead of "Music Must Change", one of those underrated Who classics from late 70s, you get the generic opener "All This Music Must Fade". But you know what - I'm actually fine with that. Because this is the sort of 'generic' I can live with. Just good old-fashioned honest-to-God Who music that rarely misses the mark. No, there is nothing for your imaginary Who compilation (though I am very fond of the irresistible Simon Townshend-penned "Break The News"), and the Pete-sung "I'll Be Back" steps too close to bland adult-contemporary, and "She Rocked My World" is hardly a satisfactory closer, but I am never bored listening to the album. In fact, if this it to be The Who's final statement (and I think it will be), then I accept it. 

After "Overture" on that August morning, and after screaming along with "Love Reign O'er Me" all through my childhood years, I accept it. And so please, no more of those hackneyed jokes abusing a certain lyric from an old song. Because too many people are busy doing just that - instead of taking this album for what it is. A collection of songs that should be drenched in mediocrity but are - somehow, against all odds - quite a few notches above that. So in the end, my message is quite similar to what Pete Townshend says at the very end of "All This Music Must Fade" - fuck it all. No one cares. Fuck the age.