Meeting Pete Townshend & Roger Daltrey

There is perhaps no image that screams ‘rock and roll!’ louder than the photo of The Who’s Pete Townshend using two hands to hold his guitar above his head, knees tucked in, leaping into the air

Perhaps no image screams ‘rock and roll!’ louder than the photo of The Who’s Pete Townshend using two hands to hold his guitar above his head, knees tucked in, leaping into the air at the Isle of Wright Festival. It was as though he was sacrificing to the sun, the crowd, and the gods of rock n’ roll. As my friend Mike Cody (Hotavy, KQ 98) described, “This is a man enjoying his rock n roll.” The festival would be among the last shows Jimi Hendrix played before his untimely death in London.

Inevitably, the call was going to come. Some friends would want to know if I could help them meet a musician. Usually, this included the “backstage experience.” Now, admittedly, I enjoy meeting and talking to famous people, too. Asking wasn’t the negative thing for me, making the magic happen was the challenge. If you’ve never had a backstage experience, expect the unexpected. I’ve been graced with backstage passes to Springsteen’s shows a couple of times, the Tunnel of Love tour in Minneapolis, and a meet-and-greet in Kansas City. While I’ve met all the E Street Band members a couple of times, Bruce never showed up for either event. In Minneapolis, we sat with the label rep in a “green room” and sat and sat. Eventually, someone stuck their head in the room and said, “Bruce left over an hour ago.” Bummer. To be fair, artists must be “on” at these events, be nice to everyone, sign a gazillion things, and pose for pictures. If you’ve just put on a three-hour show, I’ll bet the last thing you want to do is have to put on a brave face and get pawed by people trying to connect with you and share how important you’ve been in their lives. I get it. But I still like meeting famous people.

This call came from a friend I’d known for years. An aspect of knowing ‘Fred’ is knowing Fred loves, I mean loves, The Who. Whenever I hear about a tour, see something special, or get a promotional piece, I give it to Fred. I know he’ll give it a good home. Fred is the son of wealthy people. But he’s a genuinely nice guy, and like a few people I know who come from money, you’d never know it unless you knew it. “Can you get us backstage at The Who?” he asked. “Fred, I’ve been out of music retailing for a long time now. I don’t know.” “Would you try?” “Of course,” I said.

Now what? The band was not putting out albums, so no label contacts existed. The radio station where I’ve been doing my show (for 30 years now) doesn’t play The Who, so that’s a no-go too. I knew a guy that does an annual benefit show with Springsteen. I know that Micheal J Fox is friends with Townshend through some charity. I could ask Bob to ask Micheal…no, that’s a dumb idea. The first rule of knowing famous or wealthy people is, never, under no circumstance, ever, ask for a favor. Everyone they know and meet needs a favor. Ugh. What to do?

I recalled reading that Townshend has set up a charity. If Fred was willing to use his trust funds to donate to Townshend’s charity, perhaps… It was my only lead. Turns out Fred was willing to make a very sizable donation. Okay, that number would raise some eyebrows. I got online to find the name of the charity that might be able to connect me. This meant calling England. It was a clunky conversation.

“And so, if Pete would be willing to meet my friend when the band plays in Omaha, my friend would donate to Mr. Townshend’s charity.” “That’s a sizable donation.” “Well, if you could ask, I would appreciate it.” When I got up the next morning, there was an email in my AOL account. “Mr. Townshend would love to meet some people from Omaha, but no donation is necessary. Please bring your friend and your wives….(here are the details to connect.) ” Whoa. Fate had smiled broadly. I called Fred with the good news.

When the day arrived, the four of us met and prepared for our momentous moment. I had a program from The Who’s 1976 show in Glasglow where, as a 16-year-old living in England, I had taken the train by myself, found a BnB, and attended the concert on the (sacred) Celtic football grounds. The line-up was exceptional. Local heroes, The Sensational Alex Harvey Band, preceded The Who. Others on the bill included Widowmaker (feat Mott the Hoople’s Ariel Bender), Little Feat (with Lowell George), and The Outlaws. I’d seen Little Feat and The Outlaws in Newcastle City Hall two days earlier. I also had a ‘Maximum Rock n Roll’ poster for my friend Rich.

I thought about the many times I’d see The Who. Keith Moon was still alive the first time I saw them. Glasgow is like Detroit except meaner. The crowd was wildly intoxicated and difficult to understand. While some suggest Geordies, folks from Newcastle Upon Tyne, are hard to understand, Wegies or Glaswegians are damn near impossible to understand without some translator in your ear. Famously, during the song Won’t Get Fooled Again, green lasers were shot over the crow’s head during a lull in the song. Smoke danced across the sharp green planes of lasers that slowly pointed toward the crowd. Although sober, I was only 16 and alone is a foreign country, the lazers wiped out any sense of horizon and things became akimbo and tilted. At a precise moment in the song, Townshend lept across the stage and, in his famous wind-mill motion, stuck a power chord that launched the band back into the song. “I move myself and my family inside…” Magic.

When we got to the Omaha Shed, the cell reception was sketchy. Damn, we couldn’t reach our contact. I paced around, wondering what to do. Here we stood, waiting for our moment, knowing our contact was waiting for our call, but the phones weren’t working. It was cold out, but I walked down the street and made my call. “Yes, we’re here.” “Great, I’ll meet you and give you the passes. You’d better hurry.” Racing back, I grabbed our foursome and took off for the rendezvous point. Eventually, we got ushered back. A quick handshake with Pino Palladino (bass) and Zak Starkey (drummer & Ringo’s son, who also played with Oasis). Pete was cordial, asked a few questions, and posed for photos. “Now, what’s your name again?” “This one’s for Rich.” Pete focuses on Fred and his wife when Fred sets his materials down.

I spied Roger Daltrey about 15 yards away, completely unplussed. I walked over, Even in his mid60s, Roger Daltrey was cut. When I meet people I admire, I try to think about the meaningful moments in their careers. With Daltrey, it was seeing live, swinging a microphone in 20’ circles, grabbing it at the last moment, and pulling it in to scream “Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh” at the crescendo in Baba O’Reilly. What a stud. I’ve probably seen The Who 20x, a great band. The magic always shows up.

As I neared, I could tell his nose had been broken. He’s shorter than me. “How’s it going?” Roger grunted a reply and was not interested in any false adulation. Having recently read his autobiography, Daltrey views his role in The Who as a singer. That’s his job. It's like working in a factory, but it pays better. He’s just a working-class guy who’s hung onto his Cockney roots and has taken an unpretentious approach to a life that could easily have gotten out of control.

I mentioned that Omaha was a college football market, and if he wanted to rev up the crowd, he could use the phrase “Restore the Order.” “I’m not saying that,” he replied. “Um, Jagger did a couple of weeks ago.” “He did, eh?” said Roger, looking over the top of his glasses. He was a nice enough guy, but I knew from being around for a while that when a musician is getting ready to go on stage, they muster the focus and energy necessary to put on a great show. Roger was mustering, and therefore, I was pestering.

We made our way to our seats. Fred had gotten us in the second row right in front of Townshend. The band came out. While the crowd cheered, Townshend walked over to Daltrey, pointed out some friends they waved to, and smiled. I’d love to know who that was. After the third song, Daltrey stepped up with a cup of tea in hand for his obviously hoarse throat, “We’re The Who, and we’re here to restore the order!” The crowd cheered as the band took off into the rest of their set.

Mission accomplished.

Footnote: while reading Daltey’s recent autobiography, he mentions using a bulldozer to create a trout fishing oasis so he and his friends from the “old neighborhood” could get together. Today, visitors can rent a cottage and fly fish for trout on Daltrey’s estate.

https://www.lakedowntroutfishery.com/

If you decide to go, call me…