Rock's Outer Limits

(7 of 11)

A publicist named Peter Meaden assumed informal responsibility for managing them, molding them into front men for the flourishing Mod movement. Representing a sort of secret style, a surly, dubious attitude and a way of life in which the work week was a lingering funeral and the weekend a temporary resurrection, Mod was a kind of berserk street refraction of traditional English clubmanship. Having the right clothes and shoes was important. Riding the right motor scooter was important. Gobbling the right pills in the right quantities and listening to the right music were important. All this has been captured well in Quadrophenia; there is a kind of masquerade Mod revival in England right now. Townshend, however, points out that the original Mod movement "was about fashion, but that doesn't mean it was superficial. Fashion, in a sense, is description of events after the fact. And the Mods had great taste in music."

Meaden wrote two Mod anthems, Zoot Suit and I'm the Face, for the group's first single, which was no particular success. Shortly after, the band switched managers, changed its name to The Who, and Townshend started writing his own tunes, widening the focus past Mod to take in all the audience. I Can't Explain, My Generation, The Kids Are Alright were as fresh and nervy as battle reports from the front lines where youth was locked in a tag-team match with the forces of the Establishment.

The Who came on strong in Britain, but in America was outpaced by the Beatles, who were beloved by all, and the Rolling Stones, who were even then playing devil's advocate in the Beatles' bright shadow. The Who made its first American appearance in 1965. Two years later, back again, the group was supporting Herman's Hermits on tour, giving those coy little gnomes nightly musical lumps and attracting a loyal band of American supporters.

That was the period when Townshend started to push. "I thought we had to do something grand, almost daft ... and possibly pompous." That was Tommy, and The Who finally had what it was after: a general audience success to match its reputation among rock fans.

Some things, however, remained unchanged. The Who continued to battle among themselves, drawing sustenance from friction that often flared into spot fires, blazing quickly and suddenly like canyon conflagrations in Los Angeles. Everyone had quit the group at one time or another. In 1965, Daltrey left, vowing to form another group, and came back a week later. "I thought if I lost the band I was dead," he says now. "I realized The Who was the thing, the reason I was successful. I didn't fight any more ... for a couple of years." Townshend, however, was not trying as strenuously to keep to the path of nonviolence, and, after one disagreement in the recording studio, brained Daltrey with his guitar. Daltrey responded by punching Pete into the hospital.