‘Who’s Next’: An Album Without Flaw

Who’s Next (1971) was the Who’s fifth studio album. It’s such a uniquely glorious output of rock, despite being whittled down from an abandoned concept called Lifehouse. That album began after the huge success of their 1969 rock opera Tommy.

Pete Townshend’s vision for Lifehouse was even more arcane than the notion of a pinball-playing deity. It was a science fiction-y, futuristic musical experiment so complex that the other bandmates could not get with it. Ultimately, Pete came close to a nervous breakdown and abandoned that project until decades later. But much of the material became the basis for an album ranked among the greatest rock albums of all time.

Who’s Next displays the band at the top of their game. It’s filled with fury and tenderness, not to mention the most extraordinary use of synthesizers and studio enhancement.

Let’s begin with that iconic cover. Photographed by Ethan Russell, the Who’s Next album art captures the gents after peeing on a concrete piling – with a Dystopian slag heap below and an otherworldly sky above. (For the record, only Townshend peed on demand – rainwater provided the visuals for the others.)

“Baba O’Riley” begins the magic with a half-minute of spellbinding synthesizer, concluding with a hypnotic fiddle solo. The rest addresses the angst-y counterculture of the era. The title merged the names of guru Meher Baba and minimalist composer Terry Riley, whose style informed the track. (The “O’” was likely for the Irish vibe of the violin solo.)

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Townshend’s love for his spiritual guide Meher Baba continues in “Bargain.” His devotion makes him desire to give up material goods, suffer any indignity, and even put himself on the cross (“To win you, I’d stand naked, stoned and stabbed/I’d call that a bargain – the best I ever had.”). Pete’s plaintive vocals amidst Daltrey’s muscular ones and the theme of spiritual sacrifice deliver a stunning result.

Shifting to a gentler tone, “Love Ain’t for Keeping” celebrates shared romantic love. With its vision of an intimate, cozy twosome, it’s pure acoustic bliss. An earlier rendition, with Leslie West on lead guitar, rocked harder but not as sweetly.

In a moment of clever song sequencing, next up is John Entwistle’s ode to marital misery, “My Wife.” Entwistle has taken a few days’ drunken leave from his marriage and is fretting about how his spouse will exact revenge:

All I did was have a bit too much to drink

And I picked the wrong precinct

Got picked up by the law and now I ain’t got time to think…she’s comin’!

Entwistle utilizes his brass chops here over standard guitar riffs, yielding a dark, witty delight.

“This Song is Over” follows, co-written and sung by Townshend and Daltrey, a lilting tribute to lost love. It was intended as the final song in the Lifehouse movie that never materialized. While it lost this context on Who’s Next, it still holds up beautifully on its own.

Side Two begins with “Gettin’ in Tune.” Synthesizer-free and leading with some sweet Nicky Hopkins keyboard, “Gettin’ in Tune” uses the metaphor of getting into musical tune with getting in touch with spirituality and, ultimately, with a loved one.

More grace arrives with “Going Mobile,” about the joys of hitting the open road. It conjures up what people now call “going off the grid,” with a delightful buoyancy. Yet it winks at the inconsistency of being an “air-conditioned gypsy,” putting pollutants out during these freewheeling hippie trips.

Things grow bleaker with “Behind Blue Eyes,” a melancholy classic about a troubled man (presumably Townshend, during a particularly dark period). A gentleman who wants people to understand that “…my dreams, they aren’t as empty/as my conscience seems to be.”

After an unpleasant, unconsummated groupie encounter, Townshend went to his hotel and wrote the following prayer: “When my fist clenches, crack it open.” This lyric made it into the track as our sad hero looks for guidance. The blue eyes are metaphors; the heartbreak is real.

The closing number is the anti-revolutionary anthem “Won’t Get Fooled Again” featuring eight and a half minutes of synthesizer and pounding rhythm that stays in one’s cells. The Who lays out their frustration that true revolution will never take root, because the new guard never changes.

Daltrey’s anguished scream at the 7:45 mark is rock’s most chilling sound bite. The closing line, “Meet the new boss/same as the old boss,” has a weary acceptance.

Roger and Pete’s powerful vocals, John “The Ox” Entwistle’s stellar bass and brass, and Keith Moon’s drumming coalesce to conclude an album that reflects a visceral understanding of the human condition.

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This post was previously published on CultureSonar.

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