Tommy

Another exercise in Boomer nostalgia...

There's a scene in Almost Famous when William Miller's sister (I think it was Zooey Deschanel wasn't it?) tells him, "Listen to Tommy with just a candle burning and you'll see your future." I've never tried that, but that might be more interesting than synching up Dark Side of the Moon with The Wizard of Oz. In any event, Tommy is one of my favorite albums, and I hadn't listened to it in a long while before this past weekend. I didn't listen to it in the dark with a candle burning, but instead walking outside in the bright sunlight. I gleaned nothing about my future.

Tommy was the first rock opera, or, to be an academic stickler, the first to be called a rock opera, as it really isn't an opera (stuffy academicians would call it a "song cycle.") The impetus behind it, which was Pete Townshend's interest in some guru, isn't very interesting to me, in fact the story isn't readily knowable from just listening to the record; it's been sketched in by the film and subsequent interviews, etc. Of course, it's about a kid who's deaf, dumb and blind, hysterically so because he sees something involving his father, who was thought to be killed in a war, and is told that he didn't see it or hear it. He gets abused by a sadistic cousin and a perverted uncle, takes some acid, and then learns that he can play pinball. Once he gains his senses back he becomes a spiritual leader of some sort, but his acolytes turn on him once he has them cover up their eyes, ears and mouths while playing pinball. Religions have some dumb rituals, but that one might take the cake.

What's so good about Tommy is the music. It could be about knitting and it would still be enthralling. The Who were always primarily about the musicianship, whether it be Townshend's guitar, John Entwhistle's thumping bass, Roger Daltrey's soaring vocals, or Keith Moon's barely contained insanity on drums (he gets my vote for greatest rock and roll drummer of all time). The Overture which kicks things off is a four-minute masterpiece, letting us know that we should pay close attention to what comes next, and is also great driving music, which I can attest to. On a drive down to Florida I put Tommy on as I was leaving a motel in Georgia one morning. What better music to listen to to start the day?

There are several other nuggets of gold on this album, particularly "1921," in which Tommy sees either his father getting killed by his mother's lover or vice versa (depending on whether it's the film or the Broadway show), "Christmas," in which Tommy's parents worry about his salvation, and the underrated "Underture," an over-ten minute jazz-like composition that accompanies Tommy on an acid trip courtesy of the Acid Queen. Of course there is Pinball Wizard, which was a hit for Elton John when he was on the top of the pile, and how I first became aware of Tommy (that's not strictly true--I dimly recall some commercial using the "Tommy can you see me" refrain, but for the life of me I can't remember what it was for).

The suite ends with "We're Not Going to Take It," which, coupled with "We Won't Get Fooled Again," forms a stingingly defiant dyad. Townshend was never one to keep his cards close to the vest.

I saw the film many years ago, and have no burning desire to see it again. As usual with Ken Russell, it goes way over the top (I remember Ann-Margret writhing in beans) and plays to worst excesses of rock culture. I never did get to see the Broadway version, which earned Townshend a Tony Award. For some reason I just didn't feel it was necessary. I guess the best way to experience this phenomenon is just to listen to the record, whether in the dark or not.