Lives in Music #3: Who Am I by Pete Townshend | New music reviews, news & interviews
Lives in Music #3: Who Am I by Pete Townshend
Rock icon lacerates himself at great length
Pete Townshend was always the most literate of stars, not merely a rock icon but someone who believed in Art with a capital A – he even ran his own publishing company and had an editing job in the 1980s with Faber and Faber, where he made friends with writing giants like Ted Hughes (he adapted his Iron Man) and William Golding, who he used to go boating with. Lucky Pete - except, he never thinks so, and beats himself up for not appreciating his good fortune.
So we might have expected a proper literary autobiography from the Who guitarist and author of Tommy and Quadrophenia. Recent memoirs from Patti Smith and Bob Dylan have set the bar high, with their brilliant descriptive powers, but this book doesn’t emulate them, partly because it’s so fascinated by the states of mind of the author above anything else. It's rare that you get any real sense of the other, often fascinating, people in the book, whether people close to him, like Roger Daltrey, or minor walk-on parts like the wonderful artist and cut-up guru Brion Gysin.
If only he was a bit more “devilish” that he could actually enjoy his devilry, as his polar opposite in The Who, Keith Moon, clearly did
Townshend should at the least be commended for his self-lacerating honesty, as he says, while talking of family life, “the childish, devilish, selfish-sod-bastard artist deep inside me didn’t give a toss for fatherhood – he needed freedom.” Or: “My spiritual longings were constantly under siege by all-too-worldly ambitions, undermined by scepticism and ambivalence, and challenged by my sexual yearnings... I could also behave, frankly, like a complete arsehole." And there are plenty of examples of arseholish behaviour throughout – if only he was a bit more “devilish” that he could actually enjoy his devilry, as his polar opposite in The Who, Keith Moon, clearly did.
At times, the book reads like he’s talking to his Jungian analyst, who he went to for many years. At almost every turn, he’s not sure whether he’s in or out. He wants fame and abhors it, loves the adulation of the groupies and sometimes takes advantage then hates himself, and has a love-hate relationship with himself, music, the world and the universe.
He has money, fame, respect, can do whatever he wants, despite his massive hooter which makes him feel self-conscious, but spends the majority of the book vacillating and much of it depressed. The reader, like everyone around him, wishes to shake him out of it. It may be that he has got an actual bipolar condition, or the illness of alcoholism, brought on by being abused as a child and we shouldn’t be too hard on him. The book may be better written than most self-congratulatory celeb tomes. It just doesn’t make a great read, though.
I lost count of the number of times he commits to a music project, tour or a relationship then backs off, then it’s back on again, thereby driving everyone around him crazy. He signed a deal on this book 15 years ago, and it was cut down from 1000 pages to 500, and it’s fair to make an educated guess that he drove his editors and publishers nuts too.
Townshend feels what he was doing had global historical implications: "As I raised the stuttering guitar above my head, I felt I was holding up the bloodied standard of endless centuries of mindless war." It is true that many people thought rock would change the world at the time, and it was the sound of a generation, but, come on Pete, it was only a song. The Who had a good run of a decade of top rock music, for sure, and those wanting to know the nitty-gritty of how Tommy and his other hits were put together will find everything they want to know here, such as how it was the writer Nik Cohn who prompted Tommy, in a real moment of inspiration, to be about a pinball wizard rather than a more generic messiah.
Subscribe to theartsdesk.com
Thank you for continuing to read our work on theartsdesk.com. For unlimited access to every article in its entirety, including our archive of more than 7,000 pieces, we're asking for £2.95 per month or £25 per year. We feel it's a very good deal, and hope you do too.
To take an annual subscription now simply click here.
And if you're looking for that extra gift for a friend or family member, why not treat them to a theartsdesk.com gift subscription?
more New music
Punk perennials veer towards the moody with mixed results
Unspectacular third effort fails to stand out from the crowd
Bastille's breakthrough gig was a well-mannered affair without a trace of bad blood
Triumphant return of Neue Slowenische Kunst
The musical undead walk amongst us in this prog-rock evocation of dark London
Cinematic Arab vistas with a rock sensibility
The superstar diva from Houston, Texas, thunders into London in epic style
Southern rockers find their country soul again
Sublime pairing of virtuoso guitarists who bestride much of jazz and related genres
Musical recluse returns with a nearly decent album
Can Belgians resurrect a much-maligned British style?
The band's songwriter on their 12th album and more