“Drowned (live)” – Pete Townshend
(Words/music: Pete Townshend, available on The Oceanic Concerts, Rhino Records 2001)

The Who had so many unique personalities that each of the four members probably gave up recognition simply by being around such distinctive players.  Still, these four members made up one of the most influential bands of their era (and a band I deem as underrated only because they’re too often in the “second tier” behind The Beatles (rightfully), Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, and frequently Pink Floyd – I’d take The Who over the last three any day of the week).  One of the best parts of these songs was the controlled chaos contained in these songs; Roger Daltrey used his incredible vocal range liberally, John Entwistle redefined the bass player’s role, and Keith Moon’s insane syncopation created generations of really bad drummers trying to imitate him.  This leaves Pete Townshend as the foundation for the group, and while he could tear up a guitar solo with the best of them (more on that in a minute), his role as songwriter and sonic architect came first.  Townsend created the venue for his band members to run wild, often letting the best parts of his songs come from other people (the scream at the end of “Won’t Get Fooled Again,” the bass fills in “My Generation,” and any of a number of memorable Keith Moon moments).  Many times, these arrangements clouded the true genius – Townshend’s remarkable chops as a songwriter.  It’s easy to see how a band with two rock virtuosos (Entwistle and Townshend) and two of the most iconic performers on their instruments (Daltrey and Moon), that the songs might take second billing (after all, Daltrey sings “it’s the singer not the song, that makes the music move along” on “Join Together”), but Townshend wrote some of the most intricate and powerful songs of his generation.  Personally, I think Townshend reached his apex on 1973’s Quadrophenia – the perfect combination of an album long narrative without sacrificing individual songs.  Quadrophenia plays almost like a classical piece – different musical themes (representing the four “characters” in the band) enter and exit the piece at different points, appearing in different variations when the narrative calls for them.  On an entirely different level, the story tackles themes we all struggle with – self-identification, the longing for purpose, the capacity to love and to be loved – even after the teenage wounds start to close up.  I started giving Quadrophenia as a high school graduation gift when I was in college in part because it captures that time in one’s life and in part because it’s an album that more people need to hear.

So, when I came across The Oceanic Concerts a few years ago, I was eager to hear how Townshend and pianist/harpist Raphael Rudd would transform some of Townshend’s compositions.  In particular, Townshend’s solo interpretation of “Drowned” stood out, perhaps because I thought of it as one of the less likely songs to benefit from a barebones arrangement.  On Quadrophenia, “Drowned” gathers its strength from a complex arrangement that relies on contrasts – the grand piano breaks abruptly shattered by Moon’s thunderous fills, Daltrey’s theatrically varied vocals, and the shift from the loose feel in the song to a taut reprise of the horns from “5:15.”  It also features an extended electric guitar solo from Townshend, something that doesn’t usually translate well into the singer-songwriter mode.  Still, I think I came away from this version of “Drowned” impressed with Townshend the performer.  He varies his style at several points, touching on his trademark grace note filled chord changes with intricate finger picking, recreating the verse-chorus textual difference of the original.  When it comes time for the middle section, his performance makes it sound like his fingers are in a blur; he quickly strangles out chords while still managing to play a melody line through this burst of chordal chaos.  It almost sounds like two guitars playing at once.  Most impressively, he’s ready to snap right back into a more restrained style when it comes time to sing again (and he sings capably – he’s no Daltrey, but he does his songs justice).  Even decades later, Townshend’s performance sounds fresh – his avant-garde descendents could learn something from the master still.  This performance (and a handful of others on this album) give Townshend the opportunity that he sometimes doesn’t get in his own band – the chance to be both the gifted performer and skilled writer.

More on Pete Townshend: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm