On the new record, Daltrey toned down what he saw as irresponsible political rhetoric, deleted a rap, and changed pronouns. Townshend might have been an editor at Faber & Faber, but Daltrey has been his editor. Since 1964, Townshend has been the band’s primary songwriter, and his creative dominance has tended to overshadow Daltrey’s contributions. Later, Daltrey talks about the role he has played in Townshend’s songwriting. “Pete doesn’t remember words much,” says Daltrey, “and he doesn’t remember chord shapes, and he finds it hard to change the show on the road.” He wants to change the set list, maybe add some lesser-known songs, but says it is a no-go. “It’s irritation that I’m even there.”ĭaltrey is also unsatisfied. It’s irritation.” He arches his eyebrows. “Sometimes, he can’t stop himself looking over at me. “If you watch Roger onstage, he goes through a lot of visual phases,” says Townshend. Things don’t change that much when the lights go up. It reminded me of when an ex-girlfriend and I worked together and made ostentatious attempts to avoid each other at holiday parties. Whenever one of them hit the other’s magnetic field, they bounced away. Daltrey? At 75, he’s happy to churn out low-key solo albums and live offline on his country estate.Īt a show in L.A., Daltrey chatted with a sound guy about his vocals while Townshend joked with bassist Jon Button. Townshend, 74, is engaged in modern music and still capable of jackjawing a listener into submission about any subject from climate crisis to the shelf life of teen idols. The two remain detached, if not estranged, from each other. It’s enough to make you regret all the music the two have not made together over the past 30 years.īut there is a reason for the long breaks. Daltrey’s weary vocals, particularly on the back half, are marvelous, and Townshend’s ability to write an anthemic earworm remains intact.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |