PETE TOWNSHEND
General Rating: 1
ALBUM REVIEWS:
Pete Townshend's solo career was a major disappointment - to me, at
least. While the guy still remains one of my most revered songwriters and
an almost absolute and total idol as a personality, I must confess that
this feeling is strictly limited to his position as leader of the Who.
None of the Townshend solo albums I've heard so far would rank even close
to the best of the Who material, and it's more or less understandable.
Pete didn't start a true solo career until the early Eighties - his first
two solo albums, none of which I had heard so far, are respectively a collection
of demos and outtakes and a collaboration with Ronnie Lane. And by the
early Eighties Pete was nearly spent, due to constant drug and alcohol
abuses, endless rows of personality crises and an overall disillusionment
in the Who, life in general, himself and the whole wide world.
His limitations without the Who are obvious. While he always had, and still
has, a good singing voice, it's nowhere near as rich or immediately impressive
as Roger Daltrey's. His backing bands, while they are professional,
have never held a candle to the old warhorse. And what's more important,
Pete entered the Eighties with a firm decision to quit his image as that
of a guitar hero: synths and various cheesy (or not cheesy) keyboards have
been his main instrument ever since. But few of his Eighties' and Nineties'
synthwork comes close to the brilliant pioneering use of these gadgets
he practiced on Who's Next or Quadrophenia; on the contrary,
over time it began to resemble prime pablum, more and more and more. Another
bad side is that Pete's endless tendency to 'progressivize' and 'develop'
his sound had finally backfired with a vengeance, dragging him through
one pretentious, half-baked concept album or 'musical' to another: starting
from White City, he began to get worse and worse with every new
release, culminating in the infamous Broadway version of Tommy and
the murky Psychoderelict. And I'm not just jumping onto the 'conceptual
album bash-a-thron' wagon, mind you. Whereas Pete's classic conceptual
albums with the Who were indeed 'classic' in every sense of the word, the
lame subject of such releases as, say, Iron Man can only be described
with the word 'banal'.
Nevertheless, you might still enjoy some of Pete's albums - if you set
your expectations low enough. Empty Glass is still considered a
classic, and it is, although it sounds nothing like the Who; and if you
get past that obstacle - that is, associating Pete Townshend with the Who
on every listen - and just concentrate on the actual records, you might
find out that Townshend has still got it. Even on his weakest albums there
are traces of genius now and then; it's just that they are buried deep,
deep, deep under the modernistic production values, pointless actors' dialogues,
and ridiculous, needless concepts. But at least, there are some melodies.
Sometimes. Just follow me and you'll see.
Note that my Townshend record collection is quite far from complete - and
I haven't yet gotten some of the albums that are considered his best, like
the Ronnie Lane collaboration Rough Mix or 1982's All The Best
Cowboys Have Chinese Eyes. When I get around to these, I may yet change
my mind about the overall rating (maybe); it's just that there's hardly
any artist whose discs are more hard to get in Russia than Pete - I did
my best to get what is reviewed below, so don't you treat me harshly!
What do YOU think about Pete Townshend?
Mail your ideas
ALBUM REVIEWS
Year Of Release: 1980
Record rating = 10
Overall rating = 11
Sounds not a bit like the Who, but sounds better than Face Dances...
Best song: ROUGH BOYS
Since Who Came First was in reality a half-finished project,
and Rough Mix was a collaboration with Ronnie Lane, it's safe to
regard this album as the true start of Pete's solo career. Critics and
fans alike usually call it a masterpiece, and while that seems a minor
exaggeration to my ears, it is not bigger than, say, the overratedness
of John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band. A lot of the hype comes from Pete's
brilliant timing: Empty Glass was released a year earlier than the
Who's far inferior Face Dances, so both albums share the fate of
always being compared. This results in Face Dances being underappreciated
('don't you dare buying that post-Keith Moon Who stuff! It's total
crap, even Townshend's solo albums were better!') and Empty Glass
being overhyped ('wow, Pete was really on a high note at the time! His
solo stuff was so much better than that post-Keith Moon garbage!')
Nevertheless, even with all my problems, this is a marvelous record, and
a worthy successor to Who Are You.
For one thing, I greatly enjoy the album cover. Pete sitting at a bar with
his bottle and his glass with two young ladies of uncertain purposes, with
a gloriole around his head... hmm, might be considered sacrilegious, but
what a funny allusion at the 'sinner-saint' motive! And probably very reflective
of Pete's inner self at the time. Still, the album is not so introspective
as one might suspect. While there's practically no reason to doubt Pete's
utter sincerity and true artistic impulses, one can clearly see how much
Pete wanted this album not to miss the record stores as well. So all these
songs can be divided in four groups: (a) personal confessions, oriented
at Pete fans; (b) loud, dumb rockers, oriented at Who fans; (c) witty social
commentary, oriented at post-punk fans; (d) sappy pop love songs, oriented
at sappy pop love song fans. In other words, Mr Townshend tries to make
the album acceptable for everybody - maybe that's why everybody loves it
so much.
My gripes mainly have to do with the first two categories. Actually, these
confessionals bear a strong reminiscence to Pete's confessional songs on
Who By Numbers: clever, heartfelt lyrics, set to rudimentary melodies
that were probably just deemed unnecessary. Such is the title track: except
for the self-deprecating, mockery lyrics ('Next time you switch on/You
might see me... what a thrill for you') and that beautiful, tear-inducing
falsetto bridge where he compares his life to an empty glass, there's little
truly memorable about it. 'I Am An Animal' (what's that, a nod to Eric
Burdon?) also plods along like a dull dinosaur, an uninspired ballad with
superb lyrical imagery - again, a clear case of melody sacrificed in favour
of text. Much better is the obvious Meher Baba tribute 'And I Moved'
- but if not for the stupendous rolling, tinkling piano lines of 'Rabbit'
Bundrick, it would be no better than your average disco anthem.
The rockers suffer likewise - the downside of recording solo is that you
have no Roger Daltrey nearby to sing your 'powerful' stuff when you really
need 'im. Thus, the album closer 'Gonna Get Ya' might sound fun on a Who's
Next-type record; here, Pete just doesn't seem to have that deep a
throat to deal with the macho, bloodthirsty refrain. His guitarwork on
the song is impressive, though - on here and on the slightly inferior 'Cat's
In The Cupboard' Pete seems to fall in love with his trademark riffage
style again, so you might even get over the lack of Daltrey.
Note that it was no accident that I made a point of Pete's guitarplaying
on a song that happens not to be one of the melodical highlights
of the album (whoah, that was a really intricate phrase construction).
The problem is, there's just not that much guitar otherwise: most of the
record is propelled by synths, and Pete also starts employing disco rhythms
and all that 'modernistic crap' that, for instance, ruined Roxy Music's
Manifesto only a few months before that. Luckily, Pete is a much
more inventive and self-conscious guy than Bryan Ferry could ever hope
to be, and there are no true embarrassments on the album - but it's not
always utterly pleasant to listen to...
But come on, really! I gave this album an 11 and all I do is scolding
it? At that rate, I'll have to go and change the rating! Forget it! This
record features at least three absolute Townshend masterpieces, so what
the hell? 'Rough Boys', a fast, pulsating, synth-rhythm-based anthem to
gay life, might be Pete's best song never included on a Who album - it's
catchy, speedy, tasty, and slightly dangerous: 'I wanna bite and kiss you',
eh? Then there's the sleazy pop ballad 'A Little Is Enough', with a groovy
'space-synth' line serving as the basis for the whole song. Yay, it's been
a long time since Pete wrote his last love song, isn't it? Well, he's still
got it! 'Your love's so incredible, your body's so edible, you give me
an overdose of love - just a little is enough!' Cooky. Finally, I'm a big
fan of 'Keep On Working', with its weird multi-tracked backing vocals that
keep repeating the refrain to create a paranoid atmosphere of a 'gray busy
day' - this is Pete Townshend in his Ray Davies emploi, and he shows he
could have easily beaten 'im if he only would.
And the other songs are okay, too. 'Let My Love Open The Door' is a bit
cheesy, but not offensive; 'Jools And Jim' rocks and cusses, with venomous
anti-press attacks, and... wait, that's about it. Come to think of it,
there's not a single bad song on the whole album, just a couple yawnfests.
If this is indeed the best that Pete could offer, it's not a big disappointment.
And a must for every Who fan, even if, like I said, this doesn't at all
sound like your average Who album. Then again - it certainly sounds a lot
more fresh than that post-Keith Moon crap.
A little is enough. Just mail it.
Your worthy comments:
Richard C. Dickison <[email protected]> (07.09.99)
I'm sure you can tell by now that I am not the worlds greatest Pete
Townsend fan, if I don't have anything nice to say I will generally spew
forth a single retching paragraph and leave it. I like this album though,
yes I do.
Even that irritating 'A little is Enough' is just too damn catchy. 'Rough
Boys' was just all out there like a drive by shooting, I really liked this
album, damn decent. I sort of liked the next one too, Chinese Eyes
I believe it was called or something like that, not as good as this though.
But then Pete started irritating me again with that snobby behaviour that
just rubs me the wrong way and I stopped listening. The Who was a great
buffer for this guy and without them he was just far too superior for me.
If I want musical intellectuals I'll go listen to Peter Gabriel thank you
very much, he does not try to slap me with mental superiority.
Jeff Blehar <[email protected]> (24.02.2000)
And you accuse ME of having bizarre biases! Well we're all entitled
to some (and I can certainly understand where I might have quite a few),
but I simply adore Empty Glass and my favorite songs are probably
the two which you pointedly knocked. Strange...first of all, let me tell
you why I don't think this album is overrated. It's very, very special
in terms of its mood, melodies, and lyricism. I can't really think of anything
else in my collection that sounds quite like it - I mean, I've got lots
of albums that get one aspect down, be it the confessional part, or the
melodic part, but nothing that combines them all. And what Empty Glass
has that can never really be adequately expressed in a review is an indescribable
air, a sheen of beauty...I dunno, some sort of brilliant class. I can try
to describe it (and I will), but I don't think I can do justice to it;
it's something like a drunk's one shining burst of lucidity. A man at the
psychological bottoming-out of his life (as Townshend was at this point
in time) granted a moment of peaceful serenity and clarity to analyze,
criticize, and (most poignantly, and most observantly as well) celebrate.
It's really a beautiful album through and through, from the rockers to
the ballads, and while in some completely cold sense I can understand the
differentiations you made in song types, I don't really notice that. I
just hear one of the finest lyricists in rock and roll history taking the
knife to every aspect of his life and revealing both the good and the bad.
And that he does both is SO important; just as a purely celebratory album
would feel phony and insincere, a purely self-flagellating album would
also simply be too monochromatic and (what's more) would fail to do justice
to Townshend himself. In fact, that's what did The Who By Numbers
in at the final consideration (and I too see obvious parallels): it was
unrelievedly dreary, with no mention of the spirituality which always buoyed
Townshend.
So anyway, Empty Glass has this indescribable class, this spirit
of simultaneous recrimination and celebration coupled with a sleek instrumental
sound that renders it really indelible in my mind. The rockers don't sound
like "rockers," the ballads don't sound like "ballads,"
it all just sounds like "Pete Townshend," if that makes any sense
to anyone. It's one of those albums that, despite its mass market, hits
you square in the heart in a way little else does. I remember when I first
bought this CD putting it on in the car and getting this strange feeling
of intimacy and fulfillment, as if I was slightly richer for hearing this
disc and that it was something special that could be mine and mine alone:
a public statement that can lend private meanings to its listeners. But
that's all just personal reminiscence and general discussion; I mention
it only because I know others who have felt exactly the same way. As far
as the songs go, I won't even try to say that EVERY song is absolutely
smashing, "Cat's In The Cupboard" being one that does particularly
little for me. But there's really so much that's brilliant and uplifting,
even when it's ostensibly dragging you down in the mud of Townshend's misery.
"I Am An Animal" is absolutely the farthest thing from an "uninspired
ballad," rather it's an exquisitely melodic and lyrical triumph. Built
around beautifully delicate piano and a naked confession, it alternates
between "hot" verses and "cold" choruses, until about
halfway through, whereupon those categories revise themselves further.
And "Empty Glass" is really, really powerful. And EXTREMELY memorable,
be it in either the completely unnecessary reference to the Book of Ecclesiastes
and the furiously driven single-note opening which drips self-loathing
to those fragile choruses, it just reeks highlights. And although this
is much more apparent on the demo version included as a bonus track on
Who Are You (get that album, it's underrated!), it caps itself in one last
(very memorable) sickening twist: Townshend takes the uplifting handclap
syncopated rhythm from the coda of "Pure And Easy" (remember
that one?) and grafts it onto the bleakly drained exhortation to "don't
worry, smile and dance/you just can't work life out/don't let the mood
entrance you/take the wine and shout!" It's a surprisingly nihilistic
statement of resignation dressed up as a cheer, and the fact that he saw
fit to include the song three years after it was originally written (1977)
should say something. I won't bother commenting on the rest of songs (among
which the pisstake on rock criticism "Jools And Jim," is probably
my favorite - the FIRST anti-Rolling Stone song! Yeah!), if only because
I think it'd just be superfluous. Suffice it to say that I'd run across
a desert to give this a 10/10, despite any weaknesses in its component
songs, because the whole is so indescribably essential. Oh, and here's
a wacky tidbit of info to deflate some of seriousness of this comment:
did you know that this album was written and recorded during a phase in
Townshend's career when he was convinced he was a woman trapped in a man's
body? No shit. NOW look at the song titles and lyrics again, and see if
you can't find some shocking subtexts! You know what part of the body an
"empty glass" is a metaphor for, yes? (This is from HIS mouth,
not mine, no joke!) And the lyrics to "And I Moved" and "Rough
Boys" can be seen in a whole new light. Why do you think in "I
Am A Animal" he deems himself to be "queen of the fucking universe?"
Strange perhaps, but strangely brilliant nevertheless.
Bob Josef <[email protected]> (30.07.2000)
I agree, not quite a masterwork. But really solid. Pete does provide a good balance between humor and spirituality. But I do like his synth work -- I don't find it cheesy at all, but well suited to the songs. And the listener can easily identify with the feeling he's trying to express, unlike the annoying detachment and lack of assertiveness of Face Dances. Now if they had gotten Chris Thomas (who was the perfect support for Pete here) to produce Face Dances, that album could have been as good as this one.
Year Of Release: 1985
Record rating = 9
Overall rating = 10
Pete goes totally technophilic on here, and not enough strong songs.
Oh well, at least he's still earnest...
Best song: BRILLIANT BLUES
See, if I were Mark Prindle, I'd probably begin this review with the
immortal phrase, 'Starts off nice and cool, but loses me real quickly'.
Come to think of it, if I were Mark Prindle, I'd probably end that review
right after the phrase. No, no, what am I saying? If I were Mark Prindle,
I'd never even bother listening to a Pete Townshend Eighties' solo record,
let alone reviewing one! As fate has it, I'm not Mark Prindle (though I
lamely tried to be like him in the past, as every beginning reviewer probably
did), so let me just bore you a little instead with my dry and uninvigorating
style. Take life as it is.
This is the album where everybody starts bashing the very life out of Pete,
although everybody admits his next efforts were even worse. They have a
point, of course. Parts of this record are downright annoying, and the
way Townshend embraces dance music, synths (which he once pioneered but
which now pioneer him) and other modern production values, such as an obligatory
Dave Gilmour in the studio, can certainly turn down an average fan. Truth
is, there's still much to laud on this record - three or four songs here
are brilliant, and few of the others are offensive. Perhaps the worst rub
is that this is a concept album - and Townshend never ever made a non-concept
album since - and the concept is even more obscure than Lifehouse.
'A novel', it says on the cover, but I'm somewhat hard pressed to find
traces of a 'novel' here, if you don't count the pessimistic paragraph
of text on the back. Apparently, the songs here are supposed to represent
a soundtrack to some little-known film about a 'White City' where Pete
played one of the parts himself, but I've never seen the film (has anybody?),
and I suppose it wasn't very successful. And from the songs themselves,
you can't really find out much - which may be just as well, for who knows
how embarrassing the lyrics might have turned out if Townshend tried to
make them more 'grounded' in the movie realities?
The 'soundtrackish' character of the album suggests that Pete doesn't use
this as a polygon for laying bare his emotions: a couple of songs are emotional
indeed, but most of the time, you just don't really get what the hell he
is singing about. But I don't give a damn anyway - like I said, some of
the melodies are purely thrilling. The album opens with a strong dance-rocker,
'Give Blood', the only letdown of which is an awful, 'pacifistic' chorus
('give love and keep blood between brothers'); the verses, however, flow
freely with a vengeance, supported by some masterful guitar lines (Gilmour,
supposedly?) and that strong, powerful rhythm. And in general, when Pete
gets angry, it leads to good results: 'Secondhand Love' might as well be
him at his most desperate, pissed-off ever, with some raving, almost Daltrey-like
singing, as he shouts about his jealous feelings towards some chick or
other. I mean, these are probably the most banal lyrics on the whole album,
but they fit the mood perfectly! More Peter Gabriel than Pete Townshend,
in fact.
And, well, at least two other songs here should be definitely classified
as Townshend classics - the rap-disco rave-up 'Face The Face' and the gentle
ballad 'Brilliant Blues'. The first one is extremely silly, but come on,
can you resist that ferocious drum beat and that intoxicating, absolutely
crazy bass line, plus the funny lyrics? I could personally do without the
somewhat dubious rap intermissions, but they don't spoil the picture that
much. I used to hate the song, because I first heard it while watching
the Who's reunion tour video of 1989, performed by the whole band sandwiched
in between the old Who classics, and it couldn't have sounded more out-of-place
in the context. On this album, though, it sounds exactly in place, and
all the better - I actually have quite a good time while tapping my foot
along to the rhythm. But, of course, the definite highlight is 'Brilliant
Blues' - a gorgeous, pure Tonwshend ballad with a kinda unclear, but hopefully
optimistic message. I mean, it doesn't sound like the Who at all, now does
it? (Nothing on here does, really). It's all poppy and ringing and happily
washed by generic backup vocals, but it's oh so warm and gentle and so
unlike standard Eighties pop. A near-accidental masterpiece of a song.
Oh, how I wish there were more songs like that on here! The problem is,
where the first side is all really, really good, the second side is sorta
stinky. Songs like 'Crashing By Design', the intro to 'I Am Secure' and
especially the overemphasized boredom of 'Come To Mama', don't really possess
any energy - they are more exercises in synth-riff construction. And 'I
Am Secure' itself, which turns out to be a quiet, half-acoustic ballad
after all, is painfully diluted, with no distinctive melody. Kinda strange,
isn't it, that an album can begin that strong and end up completely splattered
and spluttered all over the place? Well, that's Pete Townshend for you:
unpredictable and weird. Pity that his weirdness led him to such pathetic
results. It is still a good album, but I usually just stop it right after
the fifth track, and that leaves it kinda short, considering that the whole
record clocks in at under fourty minutes. Nevertheless, I think I still
love it more than most other people - maybe it's because I'm a Pete Townshend
freak? No, no, wait, stop that. A Who freak might do. This album sounds
nothing like the Who. Buy it for the front cover, at least - it's the last
time Pete looks decent on a photograph.
Face the face and
mail your mail
THE
IRON MAN 
Year Of Release: 1989
Overall rating = 6
Overall rating = 7
Townshend as a 'writer for little kids'. Actually, this is the kind
of stuff that would be hardly acceptable to anybody but the biggest goats...
Best song: DIG
Okay, I might understand it when a man's artistic pretensions grow and
multiply with the years. It's ridiculous when old duds like Paul McCartney
(and I do use the word 'dud' in an inoffensive, just a bit ironic sense)
record lengthy classical symhonies, or when more old duds like Elton John
make overblown soundtracks to sell-out Disney cartoons. But at least it's
understandable - they just want to grow and get all artsy and snub-nosed
and everything, and they don't give a damn if they have as much talent
for writing classical music as Ronald Reagan or if the cartoon is going
to be forgotten in two years because it will be replaced by the fashion
of Titanic. Why, however, Pete Townshend suddenly turned around
and saw his future as a second-rate Broadway popmeister, spending the rest
of his life rehashing Who rock operas and writing original material for
The Show, is way beyond me. The man who once envisaged the Show of Shows
(Lifehouse) has suddenly turned to making rock vaudevilles for little
children - so far the once mighty has fallen.
This particular one, Pete's first excursion into the Broadway style, is
apparently based on a sci-fi children's tale by one Ted Hughes, a name
I've never heard before and wouldn't really want to, as the story is one
of the dumbest I ever read about in my life - Frank Baum and J. R. R. Tolkien
could be jumping out of their graves for all I care. In one sentence, this
is as follows: a boy named Hogarth rescues the Iron Man, befriends him
and lets him devour all the metal he can find, later on he (Hogarth) falls
in love with a girl who turns out to be a horrible dragon wanting to cover
the whole world, and it takes the skills of the Iron Man to chase the dragon
out to the dark side of the moon (so that's what Pink Floyd were all about!),
after which the Iron Man returns back to chewing his metal scrap. I've
never read the original story, except for a short extract from the first
chapter in the liner notes, so I don't know if it's really as dumb as the
'libretto' suggests, but frankly, I don't give a damn. Maybe you had your
doubts about the storyline of Tommy, but Tommy is, like,
an eternal chef-d'ouevre compared to this crap.
Pete's 'pretensions', however, don't end there. To record the album, he
has assembled a whole host of performers, from the currently active (Deborah
Conway? Who cares?), to the elderly and more or less inactive (John Lee
Hooker starring as the Iron Man! Youpee!), and, while the singing is rarely
crappy, apart from 'I Eat Heavy Metal' (where Hooker sounds like a junkie)
and 'Fast Food' (where Nina Simone sounds like a Japanese cartoon voice-over),
the overall effect is far from spectacular. Worse still, Pete hasn't really
cared about chunking out any real strong melodies: like in most so-so Broadway
shows, the effect is on lyrics and dialogue, certainly not on the instrumentation.
For two of the tracks, Pete brings in the old mates - and this is the only
case where something seems to click. Talk about old Who magic - even if
a very small dose of it. While I can't say that 'Fire' is thoroughly entertaining,
'cause it sounds so messy and rushed to me, the other one, 'Dig', is, as
of now, the last truly impressive Who song of all. If I'm not wrong, this
is the only Iron Man number they'd regularly performed on their
1989/90 reunion tour, and rightly so. It helps that the song's lyrics are
clever enough for it to work out of the album's context: while normally
it has to be considered as just a description of the farmers' digging up
a trap to catch the Iron Man, out of the album it can be interpreted as
a song of hope and optimism - and a nostalgic song at that, seeing the
nice contrast between the gentle lines 'we old ones have seen two wars'
that crop up all the time, and the general 'futuristic' appeal of the rest
of the lyrics. Plus, it's bouncy, melodic and catchy, and has definitely
the best, most driving solo on the album (oh, I forgot to say that at least
Pete handles all the guitars on the album). A couple more numbers like
that and the record would get an even higher score.
But nope, though. Not a chance. Most of the record ranges from passable
to dreadful - and, while it's mostly passable, some of the really low points
are an excellent pretext for all the Townshend-haters out there. 'Fast
Food', indeed! The ballads, dealing with Hogarth's love towards the 'dragon',
are draggy and uninspiring, and the album ends in 'New Life', a 'soaring'
climax that's as fake as can be. Simon Townshend has an appearance on the
ridiculously (and mercifully) brief 'Man Machines', and Pete himself sings
an unimpressive duet with Deborah Conway on 'I Won't Run Any More'. As
background music, this probably works, and maybe this could even work as
a show - but I don't really understand what kind of person would like to
see this show, not to mention any person that would be impressed. It's
certainly a bit too difficult and 'metaphysical' (sheez) for real children,
and much too stupid and pointless for adults. Add the very mediocre quality
of the music, and you'll see why this album can never get more than a 7
from me.
I eat heavy metal and wait for your messages
Your worthy comments:
John McFerrin <[email protected]> (01.10.99)
I knew that for some reason your description of The Iron Man
rang a bell, and I finally figured it out. The lameass story you have just
described is the storyline for the, get this, critically lauded movie,
The Iron Giant, released earlier this year.
I can now say that whatever desire I had had to see that film is, um, gone.
Year Of Release: 1993
Overall rating = 5
Overall rating = 6
Some good material on here, but it's buried deeper than the center
of the Earth...
Best song: LET'S GET PRETENTIOUS
With this album, Pete reaches an absolute artistic nadir - that is,
if he doesn't release something even worse next year. As if the sci-fi
overtones of White City and the sick brainwashing plot of Iron
Man weren't enough, Pete reaches even further and releases, this time,
a 'play' - you know, the kind of a 'radio show' that you might expect to
get to hear on some stations. The 'play' has a real, and a rather straightforward,
plot - a plot so stupid and uninteresting that I won't even bother retelling
it; please check some other Web resources if you're really interested.
The worst about it, though, is that the 'play' is constantly carried forward
by artists' dialogues and monologues, inserted before the songs, after
the songs, in between the songs, and, what's most annoying, in between
parts of the songs. Wilson & Alroy say that there were early copies
of this stuff that came without the artists' voices, but they're probably
all gone by now, certainly not available except for used bins (and I would
doubt their very existence, too). So you'll just have to tolerate the accompanying
voices of 'Ray', 'Orestes' and their bitchy girlfriend - or turn the damn
thing off, which is a far easier thing to do by all accounts.
What really pisses me off is that some of the music here is real good.
Oops, my mistake: it could have been real good, if only Pete were
to liberate it from the dratted 'actors' and from the dratted production:
the arrangements are horrendously uniform, with the same electronic drum/synths/horns
pattern that Pete had perfected with Iron Man. It really takes you
a long time before you can appreciate some of this - and even when you
do, I doubt if it will be well worth the effort. A couple of songs could
be just great, like the funky, upbeat 'Let's Get Pretentious', with some
of Pete's most ironic and self-bashing lyrics to date, or the idealistic
'prayer' of 'Outlive The Dinosaur'. There are also some nice ballads -
'I Am Afraid' and 'Predictable' are okay (although 'Now And Then' sounds
awfully cheesy). Finally, there's a weird, somewhat out-of-place blues-rock
number ('I Want That Thing') which is perhaps the most accessible and immediately
likeable song on here - and unfortunately, that's no compliment, since
I doubt if you can name a Who or solo Pete album where a blues-rock number
would be the most accessible song of all. Creeps!
For some obscure artistic reasons, Pete also throws in some of the oldies
- namely, old demo tapes that date even back to the days of Lifehouse.
Entitled 'Meher Baba M3', 'Meher Baba M4' and 'Meher Baba M5', they turn
out to represent... well, nothing but old synth tape loops that he was
experimenting with while working on the final loops for 'Baba O'Riley'
and 'Won't Get Fooled Again'. The funniest thing is that the loop on 'Meher
Baba M4' was later used by Pete in 'Who Are You' as the main synth theme
for the song. Plus, there's a synth version of the accelerating ending
to 'Baba O'Riley' (here, quite logically, named 'Baba O'Riley (demo)').
What exactly these loops are doing here, I really don't know - let that
be another mystery of Pete's twisted mind. I just want to remind you that
if some stupid music guide told you that 'this album's great, as Pete uses
some old Lifehouse stuff' (I met something like that either in the
AMG Guide or somewhere else), keep in mind that this stuff is limited to
tape loops. Understand?
Even the booklet is kinda rote. Pete pulls all kinds of 'pretentious' faces
on the photos, making him look more ugly than he actually is in his fifty
years, and makes the lyric sheets practically unreadable by turning them
upside down on one side of the page, so you have to turn your booklet over
and over again. Perhaps this is considered 'artsy', too? The world of topsy-turvy,
all that crap?
As you have probably determined for yourself, this is a horrendous mess.
An excellent example of how a few good ideas can be reduced to a gigantic
mess of fodder (the album drags on for more than an hour, the bane of CD
production) if one takes enough care. Perhaps, though, a movie based on
this mess would turn out to be brilliant. But I kinda doubt it.
I am afraid you won't mail your ideas
Your worthy comments:
Shaun Tatarka <[email protected]> (04.03.2000)
There is a "music only" version available and it is much better.
<[email protected]> (19.03.2000)
You think the album is bad? I saw the live show at Jones Beach, N.Y.
in august '94
Bad acting, stupid multimedia presentation, the terrible acoustics of Jones
beach loaded on top of this musical mess was insufferable. Pete all but
apologized at the end of the show.