Missing Men Formations—

New, Classic Artists Pushing On Sans Some Of Their Former Bandmates

By John Voket

Whether it was from the tragic loss of fellow bandmates due to drug and alcohol abuse or one musician’s wish to distance himself from the hard partying ways of his former band, Connecticut recently played host to two acts that are pushing on as shadows of their former collective selves. And they are doing just fine, thank you very much!

On November 21, former Blink-182 frontman Tom DeLonge brought his new band Angels and Airwaves to Hartford’s Webster Theater, and on Tuesday, The Who played the first of two Connecticut shows at Bridgeport’s Arena at Harbor Yard. (The Who plays Mohegan Sun Arena with The Pretenders opening on Friday, December 1)

DeLonge’s debut album — We Don’t Need To Whisper — has already generated three singles for Angels and Airwaves, and it’s been flying high on the charts since springtime. The comparative longevity on the rack compared to The Who’s latest release was abundantly obvious during the Webster show.

From my vantage point in front of the front row of crowding teens and 20-somethings, I saw hundreds, not dozens, of fans singing along to virtually every word of every song.

This is in direct contrast to a Who show I attended at Madison Square Garden in October, where the introduction of new music only generated hundreds of concertgoers whispering to their friends that they were heading for the loo. And despite The Who’s new single digging into rock radio rotation like a tick, the situation was similar at the Bridgeport show, where I witnessed one lone woman in her mid-40s standing near me and dutifully singing along to each new offering.

That offering is Endless Wire, the Who’s first official new music project in 24 years, which was released October 30. The first single “It’s Not Enough,” hit the airwaves just a few weeks earlier.

While this tried and true classic rock act could muster on for years generating ticket sales on the strength of its existing catalog and perennial promises of yet another “final tour,” the two remaining (surviving) members, Pete Townsend and Roger Daltrey, certainly injected as much energy to the scoop of samples from Endless Wire, as they did from the show opener “I Can’t Explain,” to the pre-encore Woodstock-era trilogy of “Pinball Wizard,” “Amazing Journey/Sparks” and “See Me, Feel Me.”

The two-plus hours in between were filled with an amazing journey of sound spanning the Who’s 42-year history including “The Seeker,” “Baba O’Reilly,” “Behind Blue Eyes,” an extremely tight and exciting “Who Are You,” “My Generation,” and the seminal stadium anthem, “Won’t Get Fooled Again.”

The highpoint of the Bridgeport stop, however, was a more “recent classic,” “Eminence Front,” which featured Townshend at his best, vocally and instrumentally hitting every button and then some.

While some blogsters and critics have looked upon the band’s dwindling stage antics like Daltrey’s slinging of the microphone and Townshend’s frenetic windmilling as tired and pathetic, it’s actually pretty incredible to see the veterans leading a pack of players that includes drummer Zak Starkey (son of Ringo Starr), keyboardist Brian Kehew (who replaced John “Rabbit” Bundrick for the remainder of the US dates), Pete’s brother Simon Townshend on backing guitar and a useless and anaemic bassist by the name of Pino Palladino.

In fact, in the entire scope of the Who’s current lineup, it is Palladino who most reminds us of what was lost when John “the ox” Entwistle prompted his own demise with a heart-stopping snort of cocaine in 2002. While Townshend lauded him for “saving the band,” during the Bridgeport stop, he certainly doesn’t do much to juice up the material.

Where Entwistle was always clearly one of three equal front men in The Who, at least his replacement should be made to do something instrumentally to compliment the rest of the material his predecessor contributed to during his lifetime. Instead Palladino seems content to stand back, lost in the mix and noodling aimlessly until his 15 seconds of fame, replicating Entwistle’s slappy, booming run during “My Generation.”

My advice: Everybody give Mr Palladino a group hug and tell him to play it like “The Ox.”

Transgressing a bit – I admit, I was one of the first to suggest The Who couldn’t possibly continue when I heard about the death of drummer Keith Moon in 1978, but the band returned soon after with the capable Kenny Jones taking over the drumming duties and staying on for nearly 15 years.

Then, in genius move, Townshend recruited the reluctant Starkey from a previous configuration of musicians touring behind Roger Daltrey’s solo act. And he has certainly turned out to be the new lifeblood of The Who.

Forgoing the seemingly mindless yet dead-on flailing of Keith Moon, Starkey manages to capture the Moon style with a measured precision that is most impressive.

It is uncertain how many more times we will be able to enjoy The Who in concert. But even in its two-man configuration, it is a worthwhile investment to check out the Townshend-Daltrey set-up the way they were meant to be seen, in a big hall filled with like-minded 40-somethings all screaming along and air-guitaring every power chord like a bunch of pumped-up college kids.

And speaking of college kids, I’m thinking Angels and Airwaves will enjoy a bright future on the concert circuit. I definitely recommend checking them out whether it is on the new CD, in concert, or both. 

Some may criticize the band’s sometimes cryptically repetitive lyrics and two-chord formula, but the sound has worked well for other bands like The Cure and Flock of Seagulls. The material and DeLonge’s delivery of it is admirable for a first outing because it represents such a departure from the more punky, juvenile leanings of his previous band.

It certainly has to be gratifying payback to the former leader of Blink-182, who talks about the quandary of being out and on his own after reportedly splitting from his former bandmates to spend more time with his young family, and less time engaging in the decadence of a rock and roll band’s touring lifestyle which coincidentally claimed the lives of The Who.

On the Angels and Airwaves site at MySpace.com, DeLonge writes about moving on and moving up:

“I didn’t have a career, I didn’t have a band, I didn’t have music happening in my life and I was torn apart. I knew I had to make one of two choices. The first choice was to lie around and be sad, thinking back to the times when I was in a big band on top of the world. The second choice was to continue to make new music and take it to a completely different level. While I did want to satisfy my Blink fans, I also wanted to bring in a whole new generation of listeners. It had nothing to do with fame or money. I knew if I could create a year where I turned my life around, and envisioned myself doing wonderful things, that I could challenge other people to do the same.”

Sounds like a plan for a man who has his sights set on a long future career in the music world, with or without the bandmates who helped get him where he is today.