Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Close, But No Center Cluster

who live show 1975

Precarious?

“Yo?”

Did you do this?

“I consulted.”

What the fuck is it?

“The Who.”

Who?

“Right.”

What?

“I have work to do if you wanna play your little Abbot and Costello games.”

Sorry.

“The band. The Who. I know some of the guys in the crew over there, and they called me. Wanted a Wall.”

Did you tell them how bad an idea that was?

“Started to, but then they mentioned the money and I just shut the fuck up and built the limey bastards a Wall.”

I gotta be honest, man: it doesn’t look so hot. It looks like you took the Wall of Sound and played the Telephone game with the blueprints for a while, and then got high and stacked shit on top of other shit.

“About right. I told ’em that there was more to a Wall than just speakers and scaffolding. I mean: there’s math involved, for Christ’s sake. I don’t do the numbers, but someone has to.”

And what did they say?

“Tell you the truth, I can’t understand a word those people say.”

Sure.

“And if we’re continuing the honesty, the lights had a much higher priority than the sound.

I see that. And isn’t the point of the Wall to be behind the band?

“Listen: it was a trans-Atlantic phone call in 1975. Plus like I said: I cannot make heads or tails out of the sounds emanating from their teaholes. I understood ‘Hello, Precarious,’ and the next sentence was ‘Harble barble chuzza wuzza wacko jacko,’ and it got worse from there.”

Gotcha.

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