How does one describe the feeling of watching someone you believe to be a myth? For many like me, who has grown up in Calcutta on a very generous diet of ’60s and ’70s rock bands, actually getting to watch them perform live is beyond the radar of our thoughts and conversations. We religiously listen to their music, categorised neatly on our hard disks, have them up on our bedroom walls and on our T-shirts, obsess about Woodstock, take vicarious pleasure of a real concert when a band covers Floyd or Deep Purple at a college fest or at Someplace Else. Musicians and bands of that era are unreal, mythical entities whose only connection with distant Calcutta is the music. That’s about it.
Hence, when I moved to the US in August 2015 for my Master’s, one of my priorities was to try and make it to at least one concert of my idols from that generation. When a friend in Washington DC told me in December that The Who were scheduled to tour the city in March, I had my tickets booked within the next five minutes. They were not cheap and claimed a large portion of my meagre savings from my part-time job in the university but it seemed like a small price to pay for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity ride on the “Magic Bus”.
Goosebumps for one and all
I love LIVE performances and have been a regular in Calcutta’s gig circuit but the radius of my experiences had so far been the familiar (and dare I say limited) environs of Park Street, Jamsteady and NH7 Weekender. So, I wasn’t quite sure about what to expect or even how to relate to a concert in a packed arena graced by a band that defined the music of perhaps the most compelling generation of rock musicians.
When Roger Daltrey and Pete Townshend actually took stage with their touring band at 8.30pm, a number of nearly overwhelming emotions and thoughts raced through my mind. Primary among them was the realisation that these were no cover versions but the real deal. When Daltrey kicked off the concert with Who Are You?, accompanied by Townshend on the guitar and the entire arena of about 25,000 erupted, it struck me that this was no tribute band covering a Who song at a fest or in Someplace Else... this was The Who. Wait what?!
The giants of rock music, the very people who stood before 300,000 people in Woodstock in 1969, were standing before me in 2016. They may not be in unbuttoned shirts and with their flowing manes anymore, and Townshend may no longer be destroying his guitar after an electrifying performance but I think everyone in the arena, from septuagenarians to teenagers had goosebumps as the opening tunes of Baba O’Riley echoed through the hall.
Vocal whip and windmill strumming
The Who were known for their energy and abandon during concerts and 50 years later it was every bit there. While one half of the band — drummer Keith Moon and bass guitarist John Entwistle — is dead, lead singer Roger Daltrey and lead guitarist Pete Townshend led the band in “The Who Hits 50” tour across Europe and the US — a victory lap for an astonishing career. Their touring drummer now is Zak Starkey, son of Ringo Starr, and their bassist is Townshend’s younger brother Simon along with four other musicians on guitars and keyboards.
What followed was a two-hour-long “Amazing Journey” of their greatest hits and band favourites. From sing-along classics like My Generation, The Kids Are Alright, I Can See For Miles to the instrumental The Rock, Daltrey and Townshend ripped through the hits. What surprised me most was the sheer command Daltrey had over his voice at 72, especially after he nailed Love, Reign O’er Me. While his voice got stronger as the night wore on, Townshend whipped over a dozen of his patented windmill strumming technique and they together killed it during their set-closing one-two punch of Baba O’Riley and Won’t Get Fooled Again.
As they were greeted by a thunderous applause at the end, Daltrey reminded the audience what they stood for. “We’re a rock band. Not a rock ’n’ roll band, but a rock band,” he said.
As for me, the opening lines of I Can’t Explain sum up my feelings — Got a feeling inside (Can’t explain)/It’s a certain kind (Can’t explain)/ I feel hot and cold (Can’t explain)/Yeah, down in my soul, yeah (Can’t explain). As the hall cleared out and I walked home feeling overwhelmed I was reminded of a scene from the classic rock movie Almost Famous where the protagonist holds a scrap of paper which reads “Listen to Tommy with a candle burning and you will see your entire future”. That evening I did.
A ‘spiritual experience’
I discovered The Who soon after I began to acquaint myself with the counter-culture movement of the 1960s and ’70s when albums like Who’s Next? and Quadrophenia rapidly changed the way I perceived the rock genre. I remember sitting in the JU English department AV room during Professor Ananda Lal’s class on the ‘Poetics and Politics of Rock Music’ — eyes closed, almost entirely engulfed by the grand musical motifs weaved intricately into I Am The Sea. As I stood in the midst of a packed Verizon Center arena facing two of the greatest rock legends of all time, I was momentarily transported to that dimly-lit AV room; eyes closed, as I gradually sank back into my seat and let The Who reign over me. It was clear that they had been touring for a while: the set list was tight and very well-practised, Daltrey’s vocals were outstanding, and listening to Pete Townshend play his guitar was perhaps the closest thing to a spiritual experience for me. I could hardly believe that the same set of eyes that had once faced the audience at Woodstock were now — some 47 years later — looking upon yet another audience of which I was a part.
— Rukmini Banerjee, 27, works in a Washington D.C.-based international development organisation
