In his essay that accompanies the 1994 career retrospective CD box set, ‘The Who Thirty Years of Maximum R&B‘ Pete Townshend writes in the typically dismissive tone he had begun to adopt in relation to the group, ‘So many times‘ he states, making it sound a chore, ‘have I sat down to write about the good old Who.’
At the time The Who, by now a trio of Townshend, Roger Daltrey and John Entwistle after the death of drummer Keith Moon in 1978, had not played together since a reunion tour of 1989, performances that had been their first sustained live work for seven years.
When writing his largely disdainful introduction to the four CD overview of their (at that stage) thirty-year career, the possibility of The Who playing anymore shows or making new music looked remote – Townshend never hesitant in asserting The Who were finished business and for the most part the whole thing had been an affront to his dignity as an artist anyway.
Two years later Townshend, in a move as predictable as it was contrary, realigned with Daltrey and Entwistle to tour their 1973 double album opus ‘Quadrophenia,’ The Who more or less continuing thereafter – Townshend and Daltrey remaining together even after the death of Entwistle in 2002.
As their sixth decade as a major rock band comes to a close (for many they remain the most extraordinary group of the era), 2019 has brought a raft of significant ‘Who’ anniversaries – fifty years of the rock opera ‘Tommy,’ forty since release of ‘The Kids Are Alright‘ documentary and film version of ‘Quadrophenia‘ – but there is also a new album (‘Who‘) to embrace.
Their first set of fresh tracks for thirteen years has come with a clutch of interviews, Townshend in particular high profile once again in this respect – capturing widespread attention in recent days with his, at best, insensitive comments about deceased band-mates Moon and Entwistle, remarks he then sought to clarify.
With the controversy still circulating, the ‘Who‘ album was released to a fanfare of positive reviews, but before sticking my oar into those critical waters I had already decided to give the ‘Quadrophenia‘ film another examination – ‘so many times‘ thought I on starting to make notes as it began, ‘have I sat down to write about the good old Who.’
Watching the film for the first time in what must be thirty years brought quick reminder the story of Jimmy, a confused, angst-ridden Mod, was not a contemporary piece of 1979, but loosely set in 1965 – the breakthrough year of The Who.
When the film was released a revival of Mod clothing fashions had taken hold among UK teenagers, the big screen adaptation bringing another plethora of parka coats and polo shirts to the streets.
At the same time The Who, already with a long history behind them, played to more Mods (by whom they were adopted in their early days) than they had ever done fourteen years before.
While it goes to great lengths (admirably at times), to recreate the 1965 surroundings a West London Mod would have moved in (The Who emerging from this part of the world), the film makes a couple of setting discrepancies, surprisingly enough where The Who are concerned.
Mentioning sight of a parked Mk 4 Ford Cortina (made 76-79) in the background as Jimmy rides his Vespa scooter through the busy streets of mid-60s Shepherd’s Bush may sound like reductive nit-picking – but at a house party attended by Jimmy and his fellow Mods, on view there is a Who double album that was not available until the mid-70s.
When they commandeer the record player to play ‘My Generation,’ there is a sense of time being bent to serve the story, the record not released until November 1965 – the pivotal action of the film set in late summer when the song was a mere twinkle in the angry psyche of twenty-year-old Pete Townshend.
The rowdy party scene would have been equally well served, both in chronological and emotional terms by ‘I Can’t Explain‘ the debut hit of The Who from earlier that year, which brilliantly reflects the frustration and contradictions Townshend saw emanating from their youthful audience.
In creating Jimmy for the original ‘Quadrophenia‘ album, Townshend infused the character with schizophrenic tendencies, drawn to reflect what he felt were emotional elements within The Who – Townshend (hypocrite), Entwistle (romantic), Daltrey (tough guy), Moon (lunatic).
In the role of Jimmy, Phil Daniels gives an excellent performance in depicting the personality traits created for the screen persona – although the characteristics Townshend noted in himself and bandmates are split among Jimmy’s friends, his mates representative of any group of young men with all the posturing that entails.
Indeed, two of the most compelling scenes involve Jimmy feeling isolated and misunderstood within the group – after the party he finds himself alone and sadly contemplative by a canal, where all he has for company is a couple kissing beneath a distant bridge. Later, when he and his Mod friends decamp to Brighton on a Bank Holiday weekend, he spends the night by himself on the beach, detached from the group and slighted by Steph (Lesley Ash) the girl with whom he is besotted.
In both scenes music from the original Who album is superbly deployed, which it is throughout the film – none more so by the use of ‘Cut My Hair‘ in a powerful scene depicting father/son strife.
Such are their differences it would be easy to conclude the two detest each other, but this is clearly untrue, they are merely caught on opposite sides of a generational divide.
While Jimmy is watching a television clip of The Who performing their second single ‘Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere‘ (August 1965) – a performance brimming with attitude and braggadocio – his father (Michael Elphick), repeatedly chips in with disparaging remarks about Jimmy’s heroes, the exasperation at the way Jimmy lives his life eventually leading to the son leaving home.
My personal discovery in watching ‘Quadrophenia‘ again after all these years is that for the first time I was identifying more with the father than Jimmy.
After establishing fundamentals of the Mod lifestyle (music, fashions, pill-popping, scooters, abhorrence of leather-clad rockers their social opposites), the action, in every sense, moves from London to Brighton. Here, in the course of a hedonistic weekend, Jimmy takes an enormous quantity of pills, is thrown out of a dance hall, involved in a brutal showdown between Mods and Rockers (scenes that are violently intense and brilliantly choreographed), has sex with Steph in a back alley, before being arrested for his part in the pandemonium.
Being in police custody brings him back in contact with the ‘Ace Face‘ (Sting), whose expensive clothes and eye-catching scooter sets him as Mod-in-Chief – ‘Ace‘ also under arrest for his role in the disturbances.
Returning to London with a court appearance and fine against him, Jimmy leaves his job, rows again with his parents, finds Steph has moved on to another member of their Mod-gang – and worst of all, his beloved scooter comes off second best in a collision with a Post Office van.
With his mental state becoming ever more fragile, Jimmy heads back to Brighton due to being enthralled by ‘Ace’, greatly enamored by his contemptuous attitude toward authority – only to discover ‘Ace‘ works as a hotel bell boy, Jimmy’s illusions shattered by the sight of his role model carrying out orders and luggage.
In a final act of defiance Jimmy steals the scooter owned by ‘Ace‘ and rides along the top of Beachy Head, the sight of it smashed against the rocks below presumably a metaphor of the end of his time as a Mod. The ending evokes the opening scene where Jimmy walks back from the cliff edge toward the camera and rest of his life – the story we now realise, differing here from Townshend’s original, having been told in retrospect.
As a mid-60s UK cultural movement, ‘Mod‘ can be seen, in male fashion terms at least, as an extension of ‘Beatlemania.’ Mods wore suits similar to those worn by The Beatles in their first flush of popularity, with pop-art and Italian influences integrated into clothing along the way. But such being the way with teenage fashion, what prevailed for most of 1965 had all but disappeared by the middle of 1966 (The Who were certainly done with it by then).
The 1979 revival faded even more quickly – the year not yet over before in ‘London Calling‘ The Clash were declaring:
‘Phoney Beatlemania has bitten the dust.’
In his directorial debut Franc Roddam (whose later credits would include creation of the brilliant TV comedy/drama series ‘Auf Wiedersehen Pet‘) shows an impressive touch in exploring the themes of confusion and rebellion, ‘Quadrophenia‘ feeling much more authentic than say ‘That’ll Be The Day‘ (1973) or ‘Absolute Beginners‘ (1986), two films that tread similar ground but without the same gritty realism.
Roddam also makes a nice job of incorporating stills used to illustrate the story from the booklet attached to the 1973 album, something not remembered or previously overlooked by this observer.
But the scenes where the film truly excels are those where Who tracks are used as narrative or third voice. The key songs, ‘The Real Me,’ ‘Cut My Hair,’ ‘The Punk and the Godfather,’ ‘I’m One,’ ‘5:15,’ ‘Love Reign O’er Me,’ are testament to the musical and literary genius of Pete Townshend – as Daniels remarked in a recent interview to mark the film reaching its fortieth anniversary:
‘Townshend’s a brilliant writer,’ he said and quoting a line from ‘I’m One‘, added, “leaves are falling/come down is calling, loneliness starts sinking in/but I’m one.” Only he can write in a way that touches emotions like that.’
Ultimately, however the triumph was not his alone – Daltrey never so assertive, Entwistle never so dexterous, Moon never so rampaging.
When Who music comes cascading into a ‘Quadrophenia‘ scene, it is immediately illuminated – and for all his recent complaining about how ‘difficult‘ they were to play with, perhaps more than anyone Pete Townshend should watch and listen to ten minutes of the film, to be reminded if nothing else, of just how magnificent Moon and Entwistle truly were.
This article was first published on 16/12/2019.
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NEIL SAMBROOK is the author of ‘MONTY’S DOUBLE‘ – an acclaimed thriller now available in paperback and as an Amazon Kindle book.