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The Who "Endless Wire" (2006)
Fragments/A Man In A Purple Dress/The Mike Post Theme/In The
Ether/Black Widow's Eyes/Two Thousand Years/God Speaks Of Marty Robbins/It's
Not Enough/You Stand By Me
Wire and Glass (A Mini-Opera): Sound Round/Pick Up The
Pieces/Unholy Trinity/Trilby's Piano/Endless Wire/Fragments Of Fragments/We Got
A Hit!/They Made My Dream Come True/Mirror Door/Tea and Theatre
"Music
makes me strong"
The Who took an eternity to finally get round to
releasing their eleventh album, following a massive twenty-four year gap which
is amongst the longest of the entire AAA canon (only Cat Stevens' return as
Yusuf represents a bigger one). The differences between the 'first' farewell
tour in 1982 and the new-look Who were many, for band and fans, as the group
who hoped they'd die before they got old sang about old age for the first time
on an album that's dominated by themes of love and loss. It's a slower, more
reflective Who than the last time around, with the band's firepower reduced by
the loss of Keith Moon, the absence of Kenney Jones (not invited back past
1982, mainly on Roger's insistence) and the unexpected death of John Entwistle
in 2002 just as the first ideas for the Who's big return were being discussed.
Some bands would have ignored the line-up changes and just carried on, but
instead of trying to re-create the impossible The Who embrace the changes with
a (largely) slower, quieter and humbler type of an album (at least until Keith
Moon's Godson Zak Starkey arrives on the mini-opera - they never did quite find
a replacement for The Ox, though Pino Palladino does as good a job as anyone
could in the circumstances). Usually bands grow more cynical and
despondent with age, but The Who seem to
have spent their career in reverse: 'Sings My Generation' was the band's
sarcastic riposte to life in 1965 - 'Endless Wire' by contrast enjoys old age
and is a generally happy back-slapping album with the angst reserved for
attacks on the Christian Church. At times that works: The Who were always more
mature than their years beneath all that surface noise and this album's most
affecting songs deal directly with the loss of half the band and friends lost
along the way, while being thankful for being around at all on 'Tea and
Theatre' 'Mirror Door' and 'The Mike Post Theme'. At other times though The Who
just try to roar on like they always did with less than half the horsepower of
the original band - with 'Endless Wire' sounding at different times like a
natural end of the 'wire' that had been threading across their work for
forty-odd years and at other times simply 'endless' (and not in a good way). One
of those reunion albums that's a bit hit and miss ('Good news...we scored a
hit! Bad news...we scored a few misses too!'), 'Endless Wire' was hailed as the
band's best album since 'Quadrophenia' when it came out and is now talked about
as the best since 'Who Are You'. In truth it's not quite as strong as the
under-rated 'Face Dances' or 'It's Hard', though it's equally far from
worthless.
At first 'Endless Wire' was purely financial: fans
who know the attack on miser 'Silas Stingy' from 'The Who Sell Out' will know
already that John Entwistle's relationship with money was a complex one, with
the bassist spreading his money the way The Spice Girls spread zig-a-zig-ahs.
The original plan was for John to get a decent set of songwriting credits on an
album that was an almost-sure seller alongside Pete and a new album of new
material made a nice change for fans tired of forking out for repeated live
tours and souvenier concert CDs and DVDs (which was how The Ox had managed to
just-about keep afloat in the past, alongside occasional albums and wird
children's TV soundtracks - here's looking at you 'Van-Pires and
Motor-Vaters'). That plan sadly changed when John died of a heart attack in a
most Who-like manner (he died from a heart attack at a hotel at the Rock and
Roll Hall of Fame after a night snorting cocaine and sleeping with a groupie,
which is probably the way Keith wanted to go) but by then Roger and Pete's
interest had been piqued and their enthusiasm for the album was too strong to
slow down. However a band with three-quarters of the original line-up remaining
is quite a different prospect to one with half and the question has to be
raised: should this album still have gone ahead? There's nothing here that
wouldn't have worked better as a Townshend solo album with Roger cameo-ing or a
Daltrey record with Pete as a 'special guest': putting 'The Who' name when it
barely sounds anything like them is heaping a whole load of pressure and
attention on an album that struggles to bear the load. With so much working
against The Who (the loss of half the band, the age gap and the change in band
dynamics) they sound caught between sounding like The Who of old and the band
they might have transformed into had they never taken that break and trapped
between the ambition of old and just making do. The Who are slower and older
across this album in a bigger way than just age and Pete 'n' Roger sound less
like The Who than they do on their respective solo records (where just a short
time ago Pete was re-living his youth on 'White City Fighting' and Roger had
'Rocks In His Head' and was acting like a teenager whose just discovered heavy
metal). John's tragic death notwithstanding, there doesn't seem much reason for
this: even 'Real Good Looking Boy' and 'Old Red Wine' (the songs recorded for
this album's trial run in 2004 and included on the 'Then and Now' compilation
that year) still sound recognisably like The Who, with tales of identity and
reflection that sit well with the rest of The Who canon stretching back to 'I
Can't Explain' and the choice of bandname; by contrast 'Endless Wire' doesn't
'feel' like a Who album.
Which is odd because there's actually a lot of
snippets here that are recycled from the past and I'm not the first reviewer to
point out that there's something for fans of all eras of Who-dom here. 'We've
Got A Hit!', the reminder of the giddy days of 1964 when 'I Can't Explain' was
shooting up the charts after the missed opportunity that was the first single
(under the mod-ish name 'The High Numbers'), does a pretty good facsimile at
the windmilling early Who. 'Mirror Door' is practically 'Tommy' in miniature,
dealing as it does with trying to get in touch with people who can't
communicate while the two snarky songs about religion ('2000 Years' and 'The
Man In A Purple Dress', whose Pope John Paul II if you hadn't already guessed)
are also taken straight from the ending of 'Tommy' where pinball does not a
religion make. The very opening of the album's 'Fragments' is pure 'Baba
O'Riley', albeit played on the slightly later vintage synthesisers that
provided the soundtrack to the 'Tommy' film. 'You Stand By Me' is an update of
'I'm One' from 'Quadrophenia' with the same fast-flowing acoustic guitar chords
and realisation that the 'one' Pete's narrator once conjoined to is still there
for him after all this time (all this despite perhaps the biggest life-changing
event in tall of those missing years: Pete is no longer with teenage sweetheart
Karen Astley, with whom he lived for twenty-six years after their 1968
marriage, but musician Rachel Fuller his steady partner since the mid-1990s).
'In The Ether' is hopeless and suicidal 'Who By Numbers' territory. 'Unholy Trinity'
recalls the slightly awkward
fun-with-synths-and-push-Roger-to-the-limit-with-impenetrable-lyrics-ism of
'Face Dances' and 'It's Hard'. There's something here for every Who fan to love
and it's true parts of this album (specifically It's Not Enough' and 'Pick Up
The Peace') do such a good job of re-creating the archetypal Who sound that
it's hard to believe that so much time has passed. However there's an empty
hole running beneath this record which was never there before, even on the two
records they made after Moony died, which basically comes down to the fact that
Pete is no longer brimming with ideas and Roger no longer knows how to read his
partner like a book. There are some great individual moments on 'Endless Wire'
but nothing that feels like The Who of old, with all the details and gimmicks
rather shoe-horned on top rather than being part of a living breathing entity that
arrived fully formed into Townshend's consciousness. Sorry to say all those Who
references sound like they're here more out of desperation than inspiration as
Pete struggles to find his writing voice again after a whole thirteen years
between projects. 'Wire' is an album that doesn't hang together well, awkwardly
divided between noisy rockers and snail's pace ballads that sounds like two
completely different bands and with the first and largely downbeat half thrown
off track considerably by the second and largely upbeat concept work of the
second half.
As for that suite, sweetly named a 'mini-opera' in
deference to 'A Quick One While He's Away' released almost forty years to the
day earlier, it speaks volumes to me that I've never quite been able to work
out what 'Wire and Glass' is all about, even though I felt I understood the
much-maligned and overly complex 'Lifehouse' plot straight away. Reportedly
it's based on a short story Pete wrote in the 1990s when he was working for
publishers Faber and Faber and tinkering with his autobiography (delayed until
after even this album). 'The Boy Who Heard Music' is a Tommy-sequel of sorts that
also re-uses the characters from 1993's odd solo odyssey 'Psychoderelict'.
Trapped as an old man in 2035 and wondering how he ever got to this point in
his life, 'Ray High' (as close enough to Townshend himself as you're going to
get) wakes up in a mental institution with a shaky memory that slowly comes
back to him. Three childhood friends, who are all born of different religions,
befriend Ray and keep him company and are inspired to form a band named 'The
Glass Household' after hearing of his tales of derring-do in the 20th century.
The three friends turn into stars but each has their own separate problems (the
story turning into a little like an AA meeting version of 'Quadrophenia' where
their mental state and different phobias and addictions resemble those of
Jimmy's four personalities). It was reportedly while researching Gabriel's
'story' (an addiction to child-porn and the discovery that he himself was
abused as a child) that Pete was working on when the police called round to
arrest him for an ill-judged attempt to access internet porn a couple of years
before this album was released (for the record it makes sense that Pete would
immerse himself in work in this way and he'd long talked about his own theory
that he's been abused at an aunt's house but that he'd been too young to
remember and had 'blocked' the idea for years - that's why Tommy ends up being
abused at the hands of his Uncle and Cousin if you're wondering, though when
Pete found himself too emotionally involved to write those songs he handed the
idea over to John Entwistle instead). History repeats itself and Ray leaves his
house to Gabriel in his will, watching from above as his old friend ends up
repeating all the same mistakes and living as a recluse himself. A planned
reunion gig in New York is interrupted by the events of 9/11, but the band
soldier on and find that, like Lifehouse and Tommy, music is greater than any
personal problem and it can heal an audience even when the performers are
suffering inwardly themselves. A typically rambling and
downbeat-with-a-hopeful-ending Townshend work, it's an obvious starting point
for The Who's own slow journey to reuniting and 'Endless Wire' may well have
worked better had Pete written a whole story around the work.
As it is 'Wire and Glass' feels unfinished and the
story is impossible to follow even for those who've read Pete's novella
(published on his Eel Pie website and since sadly removed - a shame as it was
the first truly 'interactive' Lifehouse-style Townshend work, with Pete adding
ideas and dropping bits after advice from fans). The 'Glass' band are clearly
The Who and yet they rarely sound like The Who except for the beginning and
ending and the songs are all bitty ninety second fragments that don't blend in
well with one another. Only the finale where Ray dies and goes through the
'Mirror Door' to a long list of names and the whole theatre drinks to the
memory of dead rock legends much missed does the concept make some sort of
sense: it's a memorial to the power of music that was made to make us all feel
better, even when those who made it were ill or stoned or struggling to make
sense of life themselves. Before then we get more Meher Baba imagery, as 'God'
(ie Ray) lives life backwards and predicts the rise and fall of a teenage band
of apposite ragamuffins who sound suspiciously like The Who. In a way it's the
summation of why 'Endless Wire' exists at all, because in Pete's imagination
it's better to go on creating and trying to make the world a better place even
when he's lost inspiration for what he writes and his own life is in turmoil
and he's in danger of becoming the 'recluse' who wants to deal with no one. A
reminder of how good and valuable humanity can be, even when individual humans
are weak and easily manipulated (hence perhaps the earlier songs on this album
discussing the church's silent stance after accusations of child abuse and the
hypocrisy of the way Pete was treated as an 'innocent' victim), it's at the end
of the album where 'Endless Wire' finally makes sense and finds some salvation
and healing (long overdue if you've come here straight from the 'original'
ending to The Who's career, where 'Cry If You Want' effectively admits that
even after seventeen years of screaming their phobias and rages The Who still
aren't 'healed'). 'Tea and Theatre' especially has a poignancy that all the
best Who recordings have and by paying tribute to John and Keith at the end of
the record ('One of us gone, one of us mad, one of us me, all of us sad') it
really does feel as if all The Who are represented and in the room by the end
of the CD.
However to get to the end you have to sit through an
awful lot of half-baked ideas that don't really work - and that's something
that's unusual for The Who (even 'Face Dances', the weakest album till this,
has a half-decent half-album going on). Big concepts are raised and then
forgotten about again straight away, musical hooks are played and then ignored
for the rest of the song and sudden nuggets of inspiration (such as 'In The
Ether', which should be the most moving Townshend song in years) are ruined by
bad judgement in arrangement or production (in this case it's Pete choosing to
sing the track using his best Tom Waits impression, which works rather less
well than his usual, purer and fragile voice would have done). Roger sounds
great - better than he did on either his last album or The Who's recent concert
tours in fact - and by all accounts was thrilled to be back working with his old
colleague again now that he was old enough to appreciate him (this album, which
Roger had been asking to make for years, may also have been a 'thankyou'
present for Roger's impressive solidarity in the face of Pete's porn scandal
when - encouraged not to speak himself with a pending court case - Roger went
on the attack and stuck up for his old pal through thick and thin; if our
original hypothesis of The Who on this website is correct and The Who really is
the sound of the school bully speaking the words of the class 'victim' then
this is a neat full circle for two men who had nothing in common but a love for
music when they started and who ended as equals, both coming to realise the
true worth in each other). However Roger still can't relate to the words Pete
is giving him (at least until 'Tea and Theatre' which is a sentiment he shares)
and the result is like 'Face Dances' all over again - a great vocalist is singing songs that
haven't been explained to him and which he doesn't understand and so can't live
and breathe the way he used to. For his part Pete doesn't always sound as if he
knows why he's here, singing more lead vocals than usual on a Who CD but rarely
in his 'own voice' (Pete's 'acting' being Pete Townshend here, either because
being himself was too painful in the public glare of the period or because it's
been so long he's forgotten how to do this - or perhaps because, even forty
years on, Pete still isn't sure who he is anymore). As for the backing band
gathered to play like The Who even though most of them had never met the band
before, they understandably struggle to re-create such a distinctive sound and
only old friend and 'fifth Who' 'Rabbit' Brundrick digs deep into the songs to
find the raw soul within (his playing on 'In The Ether' is exquisitely solemn,
even while Townshend is going for laughs). The result could have sounded like a
'tribute' band, but in the end they don't sound remotely like The Who at all
(at least until Zak Starkey comes along - and by rights he should have been on
the whole record, but then he was on loan from fellow AAA-ers Oasis at the
time).
The end result is a bit of a mess to be honest,
unworthy of The Who name in all but a few places and suffering from the lack of
John and Keith more than it lets on, whilst also hampered by Roger's aging
voice and Pete's writer's block. Fans who praised it as the best Who work since
the big guns either found something in this sorry set I didn't or were deluding
themselves that the highs were a bit higher and the lows not as low as they
feared they might be. There is, granted, a number of moments when the years
fall away, the pieces fall into place and this reunion project makes perfect
sense: The Who-style drive and fight of 'It's Not Enough' (an angrier 'You
Better You Bet') and 'Pick Up The Peace' (a calmer 'Dr Jimmy'), the
prisoner-falling-in-love-with-prison-guard storytelling of 'Black Widow's
Eyes', the opening to 'In The Ether' and the bittersweet finale of 'Tea and
Theatre'. However 'Endless Wire' is an album that spends so much time lurching
from one extreme to another (especially in the 90-second-snippet-filled 'Wire
and Glass' opera) that it doesn't spend enough time celebrating what it gets
right and is all too quick to move on to some disastrous idea, like reducing
The Pope to a 'man in a purple dress' speaking nonsense (an unusually cruel
target: you can't blame one man for the sins of many, just as we don't blame
The Who for rock and roll delivering us The Spice Girls), rhyming 'Sound' and
'Round' for no other reason than they sound like they should go together or
writing a tribute song to a TV theme writer that basically says 'life is a bit
rubbish and then I hear a quiz show theme and I'm cured!' The Who never made
another album after 'Endless Wire' and they are now on - or so they've promised
- their 'final' final farewell tour (we've been here before folks). That means
that The Who catalogue will almost certainly end at this point and that's a
shame because there is a great final mother of all concept albums inside Pete
and Roger waiting to get out - you can hear it in the better moments of this
album. 'Tea and Theatre' though a worthy last encore and if you treat the rest
of this album as the same (the chance to wave goodbye and consolidate old
themes, rather than explore new ones and re-launch The Who as a powerful force
in modern music) then it does make more sense. Sometimes, though, with reunion
albums it's a case of hearing what you want to hear from yesteryear and I fear
that's a complaint from which we have no cure: we will get fooled again...
'Fragments' sounds naggingly familiar, as if the
ghost of 'Baba O'Riley' is dancing a quickstep but on some noisy modern
synthesiser that's apparently meant to sound retro - instead it sounds far more
dated than the cutting edge ones used on 'Who's Next' (which were amongst the
first synthesisers used on record, assuming for the moment than their precursor
the mellotron was an 'analogue' bit of kit). However the song itself isn't too
bad once the drums, Roger and Pete kick in, in that order and this is one of
the few songs on the album that really does sound like The Who. The lyrics are
as fragmented as the title suggests but at their best sound very traditionally
Who too, taking the old favourite theme of identity and imaging mankind as a
once-whole creation that's been 'burst into a billion little fragments' that
have to track each other down to stay 'whole'. Oddly this isn't a Meher Baba
principle but 'fits' with the philosophy of 'Tommy' and 'Quadropehnia' et al,
that you can't cut yourself 'off' from other people however tempting that might
be sometimes. Unfortunately, like many a song on 'Endless Wire', an interesting
concept isn't taken much further and in practice most of the lyric comes across
as a meditation tapes urging us to 'breath out' and 'breath in' to the rhythm
of the life-force. Still, a positive start.
Roger is in good voice for 'A Man In A Purple
Dress', but Pete's take on organised religion is less inspired. On the surface
this is a song about the then-Pope John Paul II's hypocrisy by staying silent
over the child sex abuse inquiries that were then rocketing the British and
especially Irish press. Pete blames the Pope as the highest rung in the ladder
for covering up the discussions and tries to make him out a foolish figure, a
man in a dress who stands for nothing. Under the surface it's clearly more
about wondering how human beings can be so wicked and evil and yet pretend
they're doing good, with the Pope just standing for every cleric who ever used
their position of power to abuse those who would never be listened to if they
spoke out. Even under that Pete is singing from the point of view as an
innocent whose been dragged through the mud while the 'real' villains are out
there getting away with more crimes that nobody seems to be stopping. Usually
Pete's songs of outrage and injustice are his best - especially when using the
powerful voice of Roger to sing them ('Won't Get Fooled Again' being the
obvious example, to which this song is a more specific sequel). But this is an
unusual song - and a brave one to put second on your first album of new work in
nearly a quarter of a century - and Pete trips over himself working out exactly
who he blames while Roger sings with precision and quiet brooding rather than
murderous intent. A few screams and a
few names might have made this attack more worthy of space on the album, but in
context of Pete's troubles of the time it feels more like him defensively going
'don't point the finger at me - point it at them!' while realising that his
very real anger has to be turned down for a world audience. The Who don't often
dilute their feelings, but it feels like that's what's going on here - maybe
they should have kept this for the sequel and for the feelings of anger to die
down? On the plus side, Roger has rarely had as much fun as he has here singing
'You men are pratts in your high hats!'
'Mike Post Theme' should work better than anything
on the album. After all, it's a hymn to the power of music with Pete/Roger in
the audience this time and experiencing how the 'listening to you' boomerang of
feeling from the audience works firsthand. There are some witty songs about
playing after all these years too and all the obstacles, defensively reasoning
what no-good reviewers (like me!) are probably going to say and referencing 'My
generation' while they do it: 'We're not bold enough, we're not cold enough,
emotionally we're not even old enough!' However somewhere along the line the
song unravels into a Who parody full of wildly thrashing guitars and Roger's
screams with no reason for either - especially as the subject of this song
isn't a fellow 60s refugee (you can imagine The Who being inspired by their old
rivals The Kinks or the Stones) or some new kid on the block with the same rock
and roll spirit (umm has any younger band ever had the same spirit? I guess
Oasis if you're feeling generous but even they were long in the tooth by
2006...) but, umm, Mike Post, the composer of such US TV theme tunes as 'L.A.
Law' 'Quantam Leap' 'Hill Street Blues' and the never-ending 'Law and Order'.
Which goes to show that musical inspiration can come from anywhere I suppose, but
somehow this revelation feels like a let down rather than a mischievous joke:
The Who have now grown so apart from their younger selves that they're learning
about the musical world from daytime TV, not the world of music bursting into
action outside their door. 'We have to face the truth some time' runs the
chorus, but the truth is that there's a little bit too much recycling and not
enough inspiration going on here (Pete partly recycles the main
bah-da-da-da-dah-dah riff from his solo song 'Stardom In Acton' from 'Chinese
Cowboys' in 1982). There is, at least, a 'You Better You Bet' style saving
grace near the end when Pete-Roger wonders how his wife ever puts up with him -
he's too slow to propose and he's even slower to grow up but knows that every rockstar
of every generation will go through the switch from taking down the world to
'writing a song for his common-law wife' in the end, just as The Who did. It's
a nice bit of comedy on a song that doesn't know quite how seriously it wants
to take itself.
'In The Ether' ought to be the best song here by a
country mile. Pete is writing to be The Who or to sound like people want him to
sound but instead pours out his heart and soul on an exquisite ballad about
struggling to get up the courage to leave his wife of multiple decades for a
new life with his new and patient girlfriend. Imagining himself caught in
nothingness, unsure who he is anymore, it's a very Who expression of pain that
uses the old references ('I can't explain where I am or how I'm in pain!') far
more naturally than elsewhere on this CD. Pete is confused and frightened, but
the 'rhythm' of the vibrations from the new person in his life (very
Lifehouse!) both rocks him off to a comforting sleep and rocks him into action.
By the end of the song, the pain has grown into becoming 'heavenly hell' as
Pete realises that for him, now, nothing else exists but the prospect of new
love dangling before him as the only practical way out of the 'ether'. An
alternate reading has this as Pete's latest Meher Baba song, trying to reach
out to his creator as his only hope for understanding life (even so the lines
sound more romantically inspired than spiritual, but hey a song can have two
interpretations and this wouldn't be the first Who song to be about both). So
far so brilliant, but perhaps unsure of just how much of himself he wanted to
reveal on this song Pete chickens out and goes for laughs, singing in a growl
that's somewhere between a grizzly bear and a tone-deaf jazz troupe. This
recording is painful to hear, which is perhaps apt given the painful place it
comes from, but ultimately this song is about beauty and hope and a cleaner,
sweeter Townshend vocal (or even one from Roger in falsetto if Pete really
couldn't bring himself to be this naked and vulnerable) would have made the
point so much clearer. Frankly it also comes far too early in this album -
'Ether' should be an emotional climax that we build too, not thrown away so
early (plus it's subject matter makes it a better fit for the 'Wire and Glass'
opera than most of the tracks that made it there). Rabbit Brundrick, perhaps
Pete's most sympathetic musical partner post 'Quadrophenia', instantly 'gets'
the song though and refuses to go for laughs, instead playing very haunting
piano chords that help Townshend slowly find his way out of the maze of his own
making. Even with all the things working against it, the beauty of this track
still shines through and it's arguably the second-best here behind 'Tea and
Theatre'.
'Black Widow's Eyes' is an interesting song to think
about, if not always to listen to. Pete recounts the first-hand telling of a
kidnapping (human trafficking was the other big scandal in the UK news of the
time - and still is) through the eyes and voice of Roger, who acts out the
scenario as if it was the most romantic moment of his life. This take on
'Stockhausen Syndrome' (captors falling in love with their jailors) is told
like a Mills and Boon story with a touch of innuendo as the robber 'takes our
your gun and shatters me'. What's 'really' going on arrives in verse three,
where in an 'Athena' style reveal the narrator admits they were 'infatuated' by
an intense situation and mistook it for 'real love' before later realising his
mistake. There's a nice simile where Pete compares the growing feeling as being
in a station when an 'express train thunders nearby' - there's nowhere to
escape, the arrival is inevitable and you can feel it rumbling for an eternity
beforehand. Otherwise, however, this song feels a little bland by Who standards,
with a simple switch between chorus and verse that doesn't leave much room for
expression or windmilling and the ending (where she is abandoned at the station
pining for her lover-robber) is terribly cliched by Who standards: he should
have been hit by a train at the very least. Still, this song wins a few merits
for trying something nobody had really done in song before (at least to my
knowledge - apparently the internet's too one quick search later).
Next we're back at the religious pulpit, with Pete
celebrating/denigrating 2000 years of Christianity (or at least that's what we
assume - Pete allegedly wrote it after watching the Mel Gibson film 'The
Passion Of The Christ', perhaps the most controversial and divisive movie made
since 'Tommy'). Pete-Roger have been waiting for a sign that is clearly long
overdue and for someone to take up the reigns of Christianity, wanting to know
if he got it 'right' and that 'I have loved you' or 'I have served you' well
and weren't just wasting their time. However the song doesn't seem a pure fit
there and so this track might be the one clear Meher Baba song on the album
(according to his followers he was the last 'prophet' sent by God), it sounds
as if even as big a believer as Pete is beginning to have his doubts with all
that's happened to him and the world since the last Who album. Baba's main
belief is that every human has been 'imagined' by God and we are here to as a
'test' to create the ultimate world in the future, like some giant version of
'The Sim's computer game. This track has Pete impatiently waiting for the end
of the programme, feeding back into this record's theme of loss by wondering
what John and Keith are up to on the 'other side'. Pete also ties in the new
love of his life, wondering if the chance to love was 'as you intended' and
whether 'you really lived and died for me'. Unfortunately, as with so many of
these 'Endless Wire' songs, a good idea feels trapped in a groove the song is
reluctant to leave and what could have been a nice song full of mystery and
magic ends up a song that keeps saying the same things over and over. Roger
sounds good - amazingly so given that this isn't exactly a natural fit with his
voice either - but Pete's off-hand harmony vocal doesn't.
One of the more obvious songs of loss, maybe it was
Entwistle's death or some other close friend that inspired Pete to think about
the death in 1982 of another childhood hero, singer-songwriter-guitarist-racing
driver Marty Robbins (a fascinating character, he gave up a primetime variety show
on TV to race Nascar cars - and largely be disqualified for not having the
right qualifications, taking part just because his money allowed him to). Or
maybe, given the timing, Pete is really singing about the 'loss' of The Who
here and having to put to bed a particularly huge part of his life for all
those years given that this song works better as autobiography than tribute
(Robbins is mentioned only once in the song bar the title). Pete imagines
'himself' being born into the world 'on a whim', 'opening one eye' after being
asleep for an eternity and waking from a dream 'to hear the music play'. In the
song the music that comes from the heavens is 'predicting Marty Robbins',
perhaps Pete's early sojourns with the wireless in his bedroom knowing that he'd
hear something worth listening if only he persevered. 'Music and time were the
perfect plan' he sighs, recalling his other autobiographical song 'Guitar and
Pen' as he sings the most Who-like lines on the album about music being his
companion while he 'needed to grow and know exactly Who I Am'. Another
fascinating lyric, but unfortunately for a song about music being inspiration
and muse this song doesn't sound all that inspired - the music is a few quiet
folkie acoustic lines that come and go without really forming into much of a
melody. Pete's best performance on the album can't disguise the fact that Roger
might have sung it better though or that this track would be better suited to
passion rather than muted thought. Still, Pete's revealing songs are often
amongst his best and while not amongst the best it's good to hear another
postmodernist take on songwriting from a musician who probably spent more time
thinking about his craft and why he does it than most.
'It's Not Enough' is so clearly designed as the
album's single that it's strange to report it never was released as such. Perhaps
significantly, the most Who-like song on the album, with a weight and power the
other songs lack, largely wasn't written by The Who at all but by Pete's
girlfriend Rachel Fuller who helped out when her boyfriend suffered writer's
block with an album to compose (he takes co-billing for changing a few things
around). It's intriguing as her take on her boyfriend's perfectionist
tendencies and is clearly written by someone who knows Pete well, perhaps
better than he does (the same goes for Polly Samson's lyrics for David Gilmour
in this period). Roger roars that he/Pete always needs 'that little bit more'
and can never be satisfied, no matter how much work he puts in, no matter how
much money he spends to do good, no matter how much he creates, he's always
chasing something more. Equally, as per 'You Better You Bet' and 'A Little Is
Enough', no matter how much Roger-Pete opens his heart, gives his heart and
soul and offers everything to the universe, the outside world always asks him
for more (Pete is a classic INFJ if you
know your Myers-Briggs types!) You hope that Pete wrote the middle eight,
though, given that it's effectively his promise of devotion to his co-writer
and co-partner: 'My friend once warned me of you, that you'd hasten my end,
because I have leant every ounce of my juice and my essence is spent'. However
Pete comes to a realisation: he can't ever express his love enough because it's
just too powerful. He imagines losing 'her' to another and the pain it will
cause and fits in an in-joke for vocalist Roger 'I'm the one who will scream,
but it won't be enough!' However, while this is one of the album's better
songs, with an angular chug and menace that suits The Who and emotional power
galore for Roger to get his teeth into and a proper chorus and mega production
values to boot...fittingly perhaps, somehow it's still not quite enough. The
song feels slightly hollow, slightly too angry, slightly too confused, slightly
too pedestrian by The Who's high standards while the lead guitar really doesn't
sound like Pete despite the album credit (I'm willing to bet 'acoustic
guitarist' Jolyon Dixon performed it instead).
'You Stand By Me' is an 'I'm One' style song about
solidarity in numbers and the importance of belonging to a 'group' not for
identity but for salvation. Pete is clearly singing about his recent child porn
charges on this track as he thanks either Roger or Rachel or both for getting
him through some hard times and believing in him unquestionably when it seemed
most of the rest of the world didn't. Pete knows now, unlike his younger 'Jimmy' self, that he
can survive alone - but he feels 'pride' by the people taking his side 'against
those who lied' and if they believe in him then he feels he can too. 'You are
the strongest back I've ever known' Pete sighs in awe at the partner(s?) who
helped carry him singlehandedly out of trouble. A sweet song then, but like
many on 'Endless Wire' there still doesn't sound enough of substance here - the
point could have been made in a verse, not a whole song and doesn't really lead
anywhere. The tune is also so close to 'I'm One' that Pete would be suing
himself for plagiarism if that weren't just silly, even if it is rather lovely
to hear Pete back playing the acoustic guitar again.
The whole of the second half of the album is taken
up with the 'Wire and Glass' mini-opera, which is more of a suite of supposedly
interconnected songs a la 'Tommy' rather than a single track of the 'A Quick
One' variety' - The Who's first, really, since 'Quadrophenia' (even if most of
their albums share a 'theme'). The bad
news is, even with knowing the novella that inspired it, 'Wire and Glass' is a
hard piece to follow - a lot more impenetrable than 'Lifehouse' which did make
sense even if it was all cerebral rather than action-based and the songs didn't
always reflect the plot - and many of the most 'relevant' songs to the plot
have already been heard as full standalone pieces in act one! The good news is
that the fast and furious pace means these songs sound a lot more Who-like and
though largely recorded separately they do have a certain flow and ebb to them.
'Sound Round' for instance has perhaps the single
best Who-like charge of the record as a guesting Zak Starkey pushes the band so
hard that the decades slip away. Roger's narrator is 'young and in my camper
van' (going mobile?) while 'the world seems old - and new'. Returning to 'My Generation',
the narrator has kind of woken up to find his friends 'dead and gone' just as
they once promised - which is surely a reference to John and Keith. After
waking from a long slumber the Pete-Roger hybrid monster can feel the 'pulse'
once more like they used to as youngsters - the same pulse they felt 'listening
to' their audience on songs like 'Listening To You' and 'Relay'. This song is
simpler than both, being basically about a 'sound' that 'goes round', but
that's no bad thing with The Who's spot-on return to their old years (Roger
especially sounds thirty years younger!) being one of the single best things on
the record. Shame is only lasts 81 seconds though...
'Pick Up The Peace' continues the good work, with a
pretty good summary of the slightly slower Who sound circa 'Tommy' and
'Quadrophenia' (this is a calmer 'Dr Jimmy' with many of the same chords) and
one of the better lyrics of the album. Roger-Pete is back 'in the ether',
witnessing the three children he'll go on to befriend whilst feeling cocooned
and separate from time and space. In the story narrator Ray High can see how
their lives will work out already on first meeting (did we mention? INFJ!) and
regrets, 'Who Are You?' style, at 'losing the game they've won' simply by
growing older and losing touch with the public. However this isn't a sad song
but one of great hope and spirit as Roger urges us to pick ourselves up and
'get off our hands and knees' in a way that only a singer with his authoritative
bark can. The result is another fine song with a much tighter performance than
the standalone songs - but at just 88 seconds barely seems worth plugging the
guitar in for. This could have been a whole concept album by itself and feels
rather thrown away reduced like this with only one verse and chorus and a whole
lot of brilliant shouting.
'Unholy Trinity' talks about the three teenagers who
make up the 'Household Glass' band - and yes it does seem more than just a
coincidence that The Who were a trio for years before Keith joined (they just
used short-term 'filler' drummers back then) and were again when they started
this album. Three different children from three very different backgrounds and
with three different characters find things that makes them all smile and they
all 'hear the music and remember being free'. In another reference to an old
friend, Roger sings that 'We Are The Sea', the three of them finding unity by
dreaming the same dream and fighting the same fights with music replacing the
darkness in their lives - the 'sea' being a usual Who/Meher Baba metaphor for
love. Alas this folkie number isn't as memorable as the previous two songs and
is again very short - at 127 seconds it doesn't exactly outstay it's welcome -
but it's still a cut above some tracks here.
Alas 'Trilby's Piano' is one of those impenetrable
Pete-sung songs that Roger probably admitted he hadn't got a clue how to sing.
A number of quickstepping rhymes ('My angel Trilby said I will be what I should
still be...') try to make commercial a song that manages to cover the album
themes of love, loss and religion all in one. My guess - and this really is a
guess compared to most Townshend songs - is that it's nothing to do with the
musical or the plot or the ether or band of teenagers at all but another
love-song-with-a-twist for Rachel. 'No one else could ever love me blind like
this' Pete coos, perhaps the most in love we've ever heard him (and a little is
definitely not enough this time round), while he also references fate from
three different religions ('Hymie' being a slang word for a Jew - not usually a
good one, though it's worth pointing out that in period interviews for this
album Pete admitted another nagging memory brought up by writing his
autobiography was how much he identified with the Jewish Polish boys he grew up
with in his neighbourhood- this sounds more like childish teasing than anything
else). The problem in the song is that nothing is simple: every relationship
seems to be in a love triangle - the downside of the unholy trinity - and
becoming two after becoming one is difficult when you run around in threes. Or
something like that. To be honest I suspect even Pete isn't too sure what this
song is all about. The song ought to be a pretty one, but sadly the tune has
been dosed with some very artificial sounding strings, which recall 'Street In
The City' (from Pete and Ronnie Lane's 1977 spin-off album 'Rough Mix') but
without the same class.
Finally we get round to the title track as 'Endless
Wire' finds the unholy trinity breaking into Ray's house and reading the
'masterplan' of the 'ether man'. The three look on numbly as they realise that their
whole future has been mapped out for them by a man who doesn't really exist in
their 'dimensions' and they re-act with confusion and doubt. Though this song
features one classic rhyming couplet ('He'd show us to our portals...to
entertain the mortals') this song is more plot and exposition than song and
recalls the 'linking' songs from 'Tommy' like 'Extra Extra' and 'Go To The
Mirror' more than anything else. The fact that the chorus is slow and
dirge-like and features the words 'endless...endless...endless' over and over
again also make this track seem a lot longer than it's 111 seconds really are.
'Fragments Of Fragments' is more Baba O'Riley style
strings and synths, repeating the opening lines about 'breathing' from
'Fragments' as the characters get disassembled and sent back through time and
space to the prehistoric days before The Spice Girls came along (or something
like that). It's basically the same song with less hope and more sarcasm, with
multiple Pete's singing rather than Roger as they sing in a 'soundround'
overlapping each other. The lyrics have the distanced parts trying to reassemble
and become 'one' again, but the confusion of the song and the slightly awkward
tone of the performance suggests that they haven't quite got it there yet. In
Lifehouse there was a 'note' that united everybody, as projected through an
early version of the internet - here there's just a jumble of notes as people
breathe 'in' and 'out' at different times. What they need is a conductor. What
they need is The Who - oops sorry, The Glass Household.
Who arrive with a bang on The Who pastiche 'We Got A
Hit!' The song is far too short to do this part of the plot justice (the full
length version included on most copies of the CD as a bonus track is better and
adds a full 90 seconds to the 80 second original) but it works well as an
affectionate reminder of what The Who were and what they were all about. 'We
broke down barriers, we found a dream and we were the carriers!' roars Roger as
we get another 'Listening To You' style song about The Who reflecting the
feelings of their audience and sending it right back to them as a lightning
rod. Just as this song is getting a bit too self-congratulatory though comes a
very Who-style second verse slap: 'We talked a load of crap...but they wanted
more, we got a hit!' The verse 'cut' from the record (well, included at the end
as an afterthought) runs as follows: 'We came under pressure, we needed time to
fly, inside the case of treasure there was an evil eye!' Suddenly that 'hit'
doesn't sound such 'good news' as The Who become jaded and cynical and lose
sight of their purpose in coming together in the first place. Performed rather
aptly with the bounce of The Who's earlier days (think 'Happy Jack' and 'I'm A
Boy') you have to ask why the band hadn't sounded like this before as they were
clearly still capable of sounding like their young selves on short bursts of
magic like this. Another of the album's better songs and better heard in full.
The one link that works really well is having the
sarcastic rejoinder to all that freedom and hope turn into the even more bitter
and sarcastic 'They Made My Dream Come
True'. Pete sings a lyric of his sadder memories from The Who (sorry The
Glass...) rock and roll circus: the people who died in the audience, those who
sobbed when the band split up and the 'lies and drugs and drunks and fools' who
went alongside the rock and roll juggernaut that was meant to spread
enlightenment not all this mess. Pete knew what he was getting into though (and
in the context of the story Ray knew how it was going to end anyway) and sighs
angrily 'Is this not all just part of the showbiz rules?' Sounding not unlike
'Behind Blue Eyes' this sad lament manages to sound just 'true' enough to
overcome the bitterness in the lyrics - the way Pete sings it, he still might
just feel that this period of his life was his dreams 'coming true' because it
allowed him to communicate for good or bad. Again, a longer version of the song
would have had more impact though.
'Mirror Door' is prime Who recalling Tommy smashing
the mirror with a sudden moment of clarity and realising who he is or Jimmy the
Mod deciding that he'd actually quite like to live after all even if life is
one long list of disappointments or the performers of 'My Generation' figuring
that actually they'd rather like to get old and stay alive if it's all the same
to you on 'Who By Numbers'. In this work the 'mirror' is on the one hand death
(or at least the ether-filled version of it) as the young band grow old
disgracefully and end up in the same place Ray High has been across the
mini-opera; on the other hand, as Pete admitted in interviews, the 'mirror' was
his way of re-acting to his audience and using the act of creativity to work
out what he and his generation were really trying to say and have the music
help put it into words. The 'mirror door' is a world beyond without the need
for words or individuals, it just 'is' with everyone's feelings and
personalities intermingling (the 'true' end for 'Lifehouse' before 'Won't Get
Fooled Again' became associated with the ending). It's also a chance for
re-birth (by rights this Meher Baba-inspired song should come with water
imagery too...), with Pete-Roger-Ray wondering what he'll be once he makes it
out of the 'mirror door' and back onto Earth again, will he be rich - or poor?
At peace - or at war? 'Ray' snaps with the impatience of one from afar who
can't understand that no one on Earth can hear him and who live their lives in
ignorant bliss of what comes next. There are also references back to 'Tommy'
and 'Quadrophenia' where music is a uniting force for good and an expression
that makes the creator feel 'important' when he taps into what he sees beyond
the 'mirror door': 'I always looked for a place where I could belong - but you
can find me in this song' (how INFJ?!?). Sadly after such a promising
multi-layered beginning the song settles down into rock and roll tribute song,
with a long list of names of those dearly missed that are both expected ('Buddy,
Elvis, Eddie C' - 'Summertime Blues' performer Cochran, naturally) and
unexpected ('Amadeus and Ludwig Van, Henry Johann and the Doo Dah Band' - more
commonly known as Pete's classical 'heroes' Mozart, Beethoven, Purcell, Bach
and The Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band). While it makes sense The Who would want to pay
tribute to their heroes it's a shame it had to come at the expense of what
sounded like a more interesting and entirely different song. Still, balancing
concepts with a catchy tune is what The Who do best and it's good to find them
remembering that at least once before the record ends.
The final encore is even more moving. 'Tea and
Theatre' is a more personal look at loss, with John and Keith very much in the
imagery. Realising that there are just two people left who shared all those
times together, Roger's voice and Pete's words invite the other for a quick
onstage hug as they celebrate all those times shared and milestones achieved
they were too busy to enjoy the first time round. 'We did it all - didn't we?'
asks Roger, his voice now an awed whisper compared to the know-it-all rough and
ready teen of The Who's earliest years. But doing what The Who did was always
going to come with a price and so it is here, laid bare in the simplest terms
possible: 'One of us gone, one of us mad, one of us me, all of us sad'. I'm not
sure whether it's Keith or John who 'failed' (Keith died youngest but most
people around him were amazed he made it to age 32 as his life was a runaway
train; John died perhaps more needlessly): both men's deaths certainly changed
The Who sound and lead to a 'great dream derailed'. It seems so odd and yet so
right after all those years of open warfare to hear what may well be the final
song on the final Who album actively cultivate a peace, as Roger-Pete urges the
other to 'lean on my shoulder - it's over now'. However while band members die
and bands split and reunite their music lives on forever and this isn't a sad
song so much as a celebratory one. The songs 'still smoulder' after all those
years and that's good enough for one lifetime so Pete and Roger leave the
stage, arm in arm, for a farewell tribute drink: not the boze this time but a
simple, humble cup of tea, their work done. *Sniff*No of course I'm not crying,
I just have something in my eye that's all - honest! Who'd have though the
journey that started with being unable to explain or an unwillingness to grow
old should end with The Who eruditely saying what they'd been trying to say
from the first and embrace old age, frailty and death. It's a remarkable
farewell song and about as fitting an ending as The Who could ever have,
finally putting an end to the admittance at the end of the 'first' career (on
'Cry If You Want' from 1982's 'It's Hard') that nothing had really changed and
Pete's narrator was still as scared as when he started for here, at last, he's
found peace.
'Tea and Theatre' then is a proud and dignified end
to a long and worthy career and 'Endless Wire' is worth existing just to offer
us that definitive goodbye. Other bits of the album really comes together too
though these are, perhaps, more qualified successes: 'In The Ether' 'It's Not
Enough' 'Pick Up The Peace' 'We Got A Hit' and 'Mirror Door' all have something
worth saying or say nothing particularly well. The problem comes with treating
this album as one that's worthy enough to stand alongside the 'big boys' of the
1960s and 1970s and as an actual living, breathing (out and in) work in its own
right. Though the ideas are there they're largely too complex and ambitious to
work in the way they've been presented here (though, like 99.9% of Who fans, I
never got to see it before it closed I sense the 'musical' version of the
internet novella 'The Boy Who Heard Music' works a lot better with more space
for the songs to breathe) or feature lightweight vague memories of what The Who
used to be until well into the album's second half, at times coming across more
like a Rutles-version of the band than a band featuring two core founder
members. Though every Who album is wildly different and they vary in quality
occasionally too the other ten all had something in common (yes, even 'Face
Dances') - they were all memorable and provided something no other band could possibly
have given the world. 'Endless Wire' feels a bit more ordinary and less
memorable until things finally come together right near the end, less special
somehow - even though this album should have been even more special after fans
had grown up across a generation assuming there would never be another Who
album. The weight of expectation is ultimately just too much to bear, even if
fans and critics alike were jumping over themselves to congratulate the band
just for coming back. In truth what we needed as a full finale was a whole
album up to the complexity and emotions
of the last two tracks without so much filler material, but then the odds were
stacked against them with Pete suffering from writer's block since 1993 and
Roger's last few solo albums not a patch on his first. In that context it's
impressive 'Endless Wire' is as good as it is and I guess any Who after so long
away is welcome in any form. Thanks goodness they didn't die before they got
old, eh? Just, please, don't call this album 'the best since 'Who's Next' ever
again - it's an interesting coda to The Who canon, not a major chapter.
Other News, Whos, Reviews and Music from this site includes:
A complete collection of Who reviews:
'The Who Sing My Generation' (1965) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/the-who-sing-my-generation-1965.html
'The Who Sing My Generation' (1965) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/the-who-sing-my-generation-1965.html
'A Quick One While He's
Away' (1966) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2010/07/news-views-and-music-issue-67-who-quick.html
'Sell Out' (1967) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/19-who-sell-out-1967.html
‘Tommy’ (1969) http://www.alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2013/03/the-who-tommy-1969.html
'Live At Leeds' (1970) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-33-who-live-at-leeds-1970.html
'Lifehouse' (As It Might Have Been) (1971) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2010/11/news-views-and-music-issue-81-who.html
'Who's Next' ('Lifehouse' As It Became) (1971) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/12/news-views-and-music-issue-14-who-whos.html
'Quadrophenia' (1973) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-60-who-quadrophenia-1973.html
'The Who By Numbers' (1975) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-69-who-by-numbers-1975.html
'Who Are You' (1978) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-72-who-who-are-you-1978.html
'Face Dances' (1979) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2012/05/news-views-and-music-issue-137-who-face.html
'Empty Glass' (Townshend solo 1980) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/pete-townshend-empty-glass-1980.html
'It's Hard' (1982) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2013/11/the-who-its-hard-1982-album-review.html
'Endless Wire' (2006) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2016/11/the-who-endless-wire-2006.html
‘WHO’ (2019) https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2019/12/the-who-who-2019.html
'Quadrophenia' (Director's Cut Box Set) (2012) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2012/05/abeach-is-place-where-man-can-feel-hes.html
'Quadrophenia' (Director's Cut Box Set) (2012) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2012/05/abeach-is-place-where-man-can-feel-hes.html
Surviving Who TV Clips
1965-2015 https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2017/09/the-who-surviving-tv-and-film-clips.html
Non-Album Recordings Part
One 1964-1967 https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2017/09/the-who-non-album-recordings-part-one.html
Non-Album Recordings Part
Two 1968-2014 https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2017/09/the-who-non-album-recordings-part-two.html
Pete Townshend “Scoop” 1-3
https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2017/08/the-who-pete-townshends-scoop-demo.html
The Best Unreleased Who Recordings https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2017/09/the-who-best-unreleased-recordings.html
Live/Solo/Rarities/Competition
Albums Part One 1965-1972
https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2017/10/the-who-livesolocompilationrarities.html
Live/Solo/Rarities/Competition
Albums Part Two 1972-1975 https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2017/10/the-who-livesolocompilationrarities_9.html
Live/Solo/Rarities/Compilation
Albums Part Three 1976-1982
https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2017/10/the-who-livesolocompilationrarities_16.html
Live/Solo/Rarities/Compilation
Albums Part Four 1983-1990 https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2017/10/the-who-livesolocompilationrarities_23.html
Live/Solo/Rarities/Compilation
Albums Part Five 1991-2000 https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2017/10/the-who-livesolocompilationrarities_30.html
Live/Solo/Rarities/Compilation
Albums Part Six 2001-2014
https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2017/11/the-who-livesolocompilationrarities.html
https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2017/11/the-who-livesolocompilationrarities.html
Landmark Concerts and Key
Cover Versions http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2018/07/the-who-five-landmark-concerts-and.html
Essay: Who Are You And Who Am I?: http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2018/07/the-who-essay-who-are-you-and-who-am-i.html
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