Growing up, I always thought The Who were the greatest band of all time, mostly because of the sheer amount of energy put into their music. As a young drummer, Keith Moon’s acrobatic style of playing was as much of an aerobic workout as it was a form of musical catharsis. I paid little attention to the actual content of the lyrics – sure, there was that song about pinball and the one about teenage wastelands, but what did I care? I liked it because it was loud. I liked it because Pete Townshend regularly smashed his guitar onstage. I liked it because songs like “My Generation” and “Won’t Get Fooled Again” had a punk sensibility to it.
But once I finally listened closely, I
was surprised when I picked up on all of the spiritual undertones (and
overtones) in Townshend’s lyrics. Perhaps surprised isn’t the right word –
shocked, maybe? My relationship with The Who will always be one rooted in
nostalgia, occasionally paying a visit to fourteen-year-old me, pounding away
behind my drum kit. It is my relationship with Pete Townshend’s songwriting
that has come out on top. Once I finally subjected his work to the same level
of scrutiny I had done with other musicians, I loved what I found.
After a near-death experience on an
airplane while tripping on acid in 1967, Townshend became a staunch opponent of
drug use, devoting himself to the teachings of Persian mystic Meher Baba. Baba
himself is an interesting guy, a self-proclaimed messenger of God, but he never
expressed an interest in starting a new religion. Throughout his public career,
which began in the 1920’s, he sought to present a uniting philosophy for people
of all backgrounds: Christian, Buddhist, Jew, Muslim, Sikh, Hindu, agnostic, or
atheist. His message of universal peace, love, and understanding found a new
audience with the burgeoning hippie movement in the late 1960’s. There was one
caveat – Baba was very anti-drug. In his essay “God In A Pill,” he wrote,
“If God can be found through the medium of any drug, God is not worthy of being God.”
“If God can be found through the medium of any drug, God is not worthy of being God.”
Baba’s spirituality was a major
inspiration for Townshend, who credited Baba as a spiritual avatar in the liner
notes for the original Tommy album.
He also served as a partial namesake for The Who’s song “Baba O’Riley.”
Townshend thought of music as potential medium that could evoke mass harmony
and unity among people of all backgrounds. This theme dominated his aborted
rock opera Lifehouse, which was cut
down and turned into The Who’s 1971 smash, Who’s
Next. While The Who got to keep the heavier songs from the Lifehouse project, Townshend kept some
of the more philosophical numbers for his solo debut, Who Came First.
Playing every instrument on the album,
Townshend presents an alternate universe of what his band (and yes, I’m saying
The Who were and are Pete Townshend’s band – feel free to comment below) could
have sounded like in any other form. Gone are the bombastic drums of Keith
Moon, replaced instead by a steady, laid-back style of playing that is much
better suited for the subject matter. Gone, but similarly not necessarily
missing, is Roger Daltrey’s vocals. Roger is great at belting out the heavier
tunes, but on the more delicate numbers his singing can be a bit overpowering.
Instead, we have Pete’s gentle, welcoming tenor.
“Pure And Easy,” which opens the album,
was meant to be the thematic showcase for Lifehouse,
a plea for humanity to end its destructive ways. He urges us to “realize the
simple secret / of the note / in us all,” pointing to our underlying common
“note” as a means to bring about peace. If this all sounds too preachy, the
song itself is one of Townshend’s most comforting and majestic melodies.
Though credited as a Townshend solo
effort, Side A actually features two songs by two of Townshend’s close friends.
The first of these is “Evolution,” a Dylanesque folk tune about reincarnation
by Ronnie Lane, who played bass with The Faces, and an occasional Townshend
collaborator. The second is “Forever’s No Time At All,” written and performed
by Townshend’s friend Billy Nicholls. It’s a joyous celebration of love, one
completely in step with the attitude of the time. Nicholls later had some
success with the song “I Can’t Stop Loving You,” which was a hit for Leo Sayer,
Phil Collins, and Keith Urban.
"Forever's No Time At All" (Billy Nicholls)
"Forever's No Time At All" (Billy Nicholls)
After these two (welcome) detours, we’re
back to Pete, doing “Let’s See Action,” which The Who had released as a single
the previous year. This version is more relaxed, credited as “Nothing Is
Everything (Let’s See Action),” and with Townshend singing it is much more
fitting, documenting his own search for truth in one’s lifetime: past, present,
and future.
Side B opens with “Time Is Passing,”
which relates to Townshend’s oft-stated that certain notes and tones were
capable of having a profound effect on him, even in his childhood. He sings,
“It’s only by the music I’ll be free,” hinting at a religious connection
between the man and the music. The following track is an interesting choice,
recorded because it was one of Baba’s favorites, a cover of Jim Reeves’ country
ballad “There’s A Heartache Following Me.” As odd as it may seem that the same
guy who declared “I hope I die before I get old” would cover a song like this,
it is a wonderful end result, one clearly done in earnest. Townshend’s
“Sheraton Gibson” is somewhat out of place, being a bittersweet nod to life on
the road, but it amplifies the themes of isolation from the previous two cuts.
The final two songs are the ones most
immersed in spirituality. “Content” is adapted from a poem written by Maud
Kennedy; unfortunately, an Internet search of that name is clouded by the fact
that there is a French adult actress with the same name. The poem is written in
the first person, presented by Townshend as being like a morning prayer,
accompanied only by piano. The closing track is by far the most overtly
religious, Meher Baba’s universal prayer “Parvardigar.” Townshend goes through
the densely-worded devotional like it’s his own words, gaining momentum over
the course of six minutes. It makes for a powerful – if slightly sanctimonious
– ending to a beautiful record.
I always turn to this album, regardless
of my mood. At times, it’s a much needed source of calm and relaxation, like
meditating. Other times, it’s happy background music for an already perfect
day. From a historical perspective, I think it’s a much more valid statement
towards how humanity can continue to better itself without getting too lofty.
Regardless, it is a versatile collection of songs from a songwriter whose
spiritual side is often overlooked in favor of the sight of seeing the man
smash his guitar to splinters onstage.
Just a quick refresher, I rate the songs on a 1-10 scale, granting an 11 trump score to the best song on the album. From there, I add up the ratings and divide by the number of tracks, which gives me the subtotal. I also include other factors, which frequently help (but can sometimes hurt) the final score.
The Replay Factor is simple: how often do I listen to it? Do I ever skip tracks on subsequent listens? Is it only good for certain moods or seasons?
The Consistency Factor takes the artist's output into account. Is it a prime example of their work?
External Factors is my "spoiler" category, a way to justify adding or subtracting an extra point or two.
TRACK LISTING:
01. Pure And Easy [10]
02. Evolution - Ronnie Lane [9]
03. Forever's No Time At All - Billy Nicholls [10]
04. Let's See Action [9.5]
05. Time Is Passing [9.5]
06. There's A Heartache Following Me [9.5]
07. Sheraton Gibson [8]
08. Content [9.5]
09. Parvardigar [11]
Subtotal: 95.5% A
Replay Factor: 3
I bought this album about a year ago, and it has been in steady rotation since, putting it right into the upper echelon with my personal favorites.
Consistency Factor: 1
I haven't heard much from Townshend's solo output besides his Who demos (collected officially and unofficially on several volumes called the Scoop series) and Rough Mix (1977), his collaboration with Ronnie Lane. The demos are fantastic, boasting the same homespun charm that marks Who Came First, but Rough Mix and the other scattered tunes from the 80's that I've heard seem to be in a very different musical vein. This is Townshend at his spiritual peak, without any of the sexual and social angst that can be found elsewhere...
External Factors: 2
...but it is this album's uniqueness that makes it so damn good!
TOTAL: 101.5% A+
"Parvardigar"
