Happy 50th Anniversary to The Who’s sixth studio album Quadrophenia, originally released October 26, 1973.
John Entwistle wrote a couple of great songs for The Who, like “Success Story,” “My Wife,” “Heaven and Hell,” (and, I guess, “Boris the Spider”). A couple of Roger Daltrey and Keith Moon tunes pop up throughout the catalogue as well, such as “See My Way” and “I Need You,” respectively. These combined efforts mean that, on most Who albums, there is always some break from Pete Townshend’s obsessions over the demise of rock & roll and the material world’s spiritual emptiness. But Quadrophenia is the only Who album for which Townshend gets the lone songwriting credit. It is a relentless, single vision: the story of a Mod named Jimmy who doesn’t understand himself or his place in a turbulent world.
From a songwriting perspective, Townshend built on what he learned writing longform projects (both the success of 1969’s Tommy and the failure of the unproduced Life House) to create a work that is altogether more coherent than its predecessor. By doubling down on his obsession with leitmotif, Townshend creates a remarkably unified project anchored by two visionary instrumental tracks (the title track and “The Rock”) and a few absolutely cracker standalone tunes (“5:15,” “Love Reign O’er Me,” “Drowned”). Quadrophenia also transcends the overly cerebral quality that Tommy occasionally suffers from, because Townshend also drew on the band’s “Maximum R&B” roots to create a record that’s harder, faster, and overall more Who.
Despite the focus of Townshend’s vision, Quadrophenia is only a masterpiece because of the collaboration that defines it. Every band member is operating at the absolute height of their powers. Entwistle, in addition to playing all of the signature horn parts, offers bass lines that oscillate between enraged (“The Real Me,”) to propulsive (“5:15”) to elegant (“Is It In My Head?”). Moon’s efforts range from the orchestral (“Love Reign O’er Me”) to ecstatic (“Bell Boy”). Daltrey, meanwhile, leans on his years of experience touring Tommy (1969) to put on an unmatched performance both as a vocalist and a character. Townshend wrote Quadrophenia, sure. He’s responsible for the narrative and technological wonders that define it. But you don’t get there without those three other guys.
Which is a funny thing for a record about four personalities merging into one. This parallel between Jimmy’s four personalities and the four members of The Who was always part of the record; Townshend wrote the four main themes to mirror the four diverging characters in the band. But the ferocity with which the band embodied that concept is their achievement. It is always both at once: Townshend designed the record, the band shaped it. The band were four incredible talents at once, and Townshend created a space to showcase that.
Listen to the Album:
Take, for example, “Punk,” a demo now available on the Super Deluxe Edition. Between Townshend’s typical chord strums, there’s enough empty space to drive several GS scooters through. On the album cut, retitled “The Punk and the Godfather,” Entwistle and Moon step into this space spectacularly; Entwistle offers a theme-and-variations approach that elevates the original riff. In the verses, Moon supplies remarkable support, sometimes locking into a traditional groove and sometimes offering unpredictable fills and triplet sets. Daltrey’s vocals simply achieve liftoff. Townshend created a canvas through which the rest of the band members can flex their talents.
This canvas is what Jimmy needs. Orbiting on the edge of the Mod scene, Jimmy feels like a loner who’s both desperate to fit in but does not want to lose his sense of self in the process. So, he takes a lot of drugs, considers killing himself, and, after a chance run-in with a Mod leader who disappointingly turns out to be a bell boy, steals a boat and has a long, dark night of the soul on a rock in the middle of the sea. Not a great day.
What Jimmy lacks is a place where his complexity, and ultimately, his humanity, can live. His parents don’t understand him and the Mods won’t accept the parts of him that don’t conform to their social code. The Who famously did not get along, barely understanding each others’ completely different worldviews and dispositions.
But sometimes, you get a chance: a glimmering moment where every part of you is seen and heard. The Who got it on Quadrophenia, where their four personalities and talents reach into every dark corner of the record. Because this idea materializes across these four sides of vinyl, Jimmy’s actualization feels within reach—which makes it tragic that he fails to achieve it within the confines of the album.
But when you step back and think about how the band only achieved this level of harmony once in their career, it feels like a once-in-a-generation cohesion of colliding forces. Possible and impossible at once, Quadrophenia ends with Jimmy sitting on the rock in the sea, wondering if his time will come.
Listen: