In 1974 The Who released an album entitled ‘Odds & Sods,’ a stop gap LP of unreleased curios, albeit of considerable interest, put out while the group were preoccupied with filming ‘Tommy.’ Curiously ‘Odds & Sods‘ does not warrant a mention in either the 2013 ‘Who I Am‘ autobiography of Who guitarist and composer Pete Townshend or the recently published memoir of Who lead singer Roger Daltrey: THANKS A LOT MR KIBBLEWHITE
Despite no reference to the aforementioned record, odd and sod are two words that occasionally come to mind in reading Daltrey’s account of his life. Roger freely admits his less than chivalrous behaviour toward women during the early career of The Who, the ‘love em and leave em‘ approach making him no less of a sod than many other male rock stars of the day.
Odd, however, barely does justice to the three disparate, dexterous and destructive individuals he shared a stage with in the halcyon days of The Who – Townshend, bassist John Entwistle and drummer Keith Moon, the destruction literal in the case of Moon and Townshend, whose inclination at the end of Who shows in the 60s was to smash up their respective instruments.
Reading his generally engaging autobiography is to gain the impression that Daltrey, while acknowledging the on-stage carnage made The Who an incendiary concert act, the systematic equipment slaughter was a ritual the fledgling group could ill afford, thus encapsulating two recurring themes in his story – namely a perennial sense of being an outsider within The Who and harbouring of a constant interest in the finances of the group.
The near-obsession with Who business issues is to a large extent understandable. Born toward the end of World War Two into a working class West London family, Daltrey does a good job in describing his post-war upbringing in a tough neighbourhood, which like the country at large, is blighted by rationing and shortages.
Around him are adults deeply affected by the war – his father a serving soldier, lost a brother to the conflict – who for the most part are unable or unwilling to speak of their experiences.
Growing up in 50s austerity, the poverty affecting his childhood becomes one of the motivating factors in his determination to attain healthy financial status, leading ultimately to a showdown with original Who managers Kit Lambert and Chris Stamp – whose handling of the group’s affairs by the early 70s had largely gone haywire due to their spiralling drug dependency.
Daltrey, while quick to acknowledge their creative input in steering the group toward stardom, is far less charitable when explaining their cavalier approach to handling the money The Who were earning, on one page alone the apparent contradiction of:
‘I’m sure they didn’t sit down and say ‘we’re going to steal this money,‘ which a few paragraphs later has become, ‘I knew they were shifty for years but it’s different when you have conclusive proof the two people who are supposed to be managing you are stealing from you.’
Indeed, the chapter dealing with the split from Lambert and Stamp, unlike the rest of the book, does chime an uncharacteristically bitter note, yet it does contain a telling paragraph relating to his status inside The Who. By 1973 Daltrey, no longer trusting Lambert and Stamp, had appointed as his personal manager Bill Curbishley – who in time would manage The Who – Daltrey noting the Curbishley observation:
‘Lambert and Stamp always felt superior to the band. Moon was the clown, Entwistle the anchor and Townshend was the genius who they doted on and cultivated. I was someone they put up with.’
If such a statement was not incentive to assert himself in The Who, he had formed the band after all, then a typically caustic Townshend appraisal of the early years, ‘Keith was a genius, John was clearly a genius, I was borderline and Roger was a singer,’ certainly was.
Daltrey emerges to become one of the all-time great rock front men, developing an incredible aura when The Who performed their 1969 rock opera ‘Tommy‘ on stage (going on to play the lead role in the 1975 Ken Russell film adaptation).
As The Who rapidly develop into the greatest band rock has ever seen, taking groundbreaking albums such as ‘Who’s Next‘ and ‘Quadrophenia‘ into concert arenas around the world, Daltrey gives a fine account of what it feels like to connect with an audience at such times.
The passing of Moon and Entwistle are dealt with in a sensitive but unsentimental way, his latter day relationship with Townshend also described in much the same terms.
Through their career it appears someone in the group was always issuing an ultimatum, Daltrey both giving and receiving, yet even when referring to traits in the others of spiteful (Entwistle), wilful (Townshend) and mad/sad (Moon), there is never any doubt of the pride taken in what this most extraordinary of rock bands achieved.
Eagle-eyed Who fans will spot at least two glaring factual errors in the text and an incorrectly captioned photograph that should have been picked up on before publication, but those are tiny gripes in what is a worthwhile read.
His acting and intermittent solo career are reflected upon with commendable honesty and right from the moment of being told at the age of 15 by his headmaster, the Mr Kibblewhite of the title, ‘you’ll never make anything of your life Daltrey,’ Roger has been driven, through the influence of skiffle music, time spent as a sheet metal worker and then onto The Who, to succeed.
Unlike some other rock autobiographies you leave this one with admiration not just for the art but for the artist as well – so thanks Mr Daltrey for an interesting story.
This article was first published on 7/1/2019.
NEIL SAMBROOK is the author of MONTY’S DOUBLE – an acclaimed thriller now available as an Amazon Kindle Book.
