I grew up with the 45, and they too were a luxury. My
father left when I was five (you know this already if you read Jay and the
Americans, which is, of course FREE this weekend on Kindle). His departure at first left my mother
with little money, me with paper bag lunches with little in them, and the landlord
banging on the door for the rent. It's a long story.
But my mother knew my
penchant for music, though 45s were all she could afford. My grandmother gave
me 50₵ a week for an allowance, and nearly all it went toward 45s. I have many
of those singles today, and a few with price stickers. "Somebody to Love" and "She's
Come Undone" ("Undun") by the Guess Who were both 35₵. "McArthur Park" was 55₵. LPs were
out of the question, though I saved my allowance for seven weeks to buy Sgt.
Pepper and I got Blood, Sweat and Tears as a birthday present. My mother had
Bobby Vinton’s Greatest Hits. And so it was economics that initially jilted my repertoire.
When my mother's career took off (that moment was brief), there was a period
that I was afforded the lavishness of the LP. I'd bought over the years two 45s
by The Who, "The Kids Are Alright" and "Magic Bus," but on a blustery day in 1968,
my grandmother walked me up to the Licorice Pizza on Van Nuys Blvd. to buy
Boogie With Canned Heat, but they were out of it. Instead, and only because it
was on sale, I bought The Who Sell Out for $1.89.
The Who Sell Out is
a loose concept album about Pirate Radio, a phenom that Americans wouldn't
understand; commercial jingles are
interspersed amongst the songs as if it were an actual broadcast. At
times the commercial link is direct,
such as in "Heinz Baked Beans", "Medac", or
"Odorono;" the theme subtler
in tracks like "I Can See
For Miles," which was Townshend at his best, crafting the
perfect pop song. When it didn't go top ten, Pete decided to spurn the singles
format to focus on an entire
album, Tommy.
It's hard to
imagine how "I Can See For Miles" didn't go top ten. Maybe it was too
much - too much power, too much tension; it's a dramatic and thrilling
composition. Keith Moon's drumming is surprisingly controlled in the verses, acting as
counterpoint rather than rhythm, ah, but in the chorus, Moon's drums roll like
thunder.
The album does not rest on this one song. Gentler tracks like "Sunrise"
and "I Can't Reach You" proved that The Who didn't have to play at volume 11
to be effective, "Armenia City in the Sky" is an effective turn at the
psychedelia of the era and "Tattoo" allows Daltrey to show a vulnerability and emotional depth that he hadn't
exhibited before.
