Editor’s note: Arachnophonia is a regular feature on our blog where members of the UR community can share their thoughts about resources from the Parsons Music Library‘s collection.
All links included in these posts will take you to either the library catalog record for the item in question or to additional relevant information from around the web.
Today’s installment of Arachnophonia is by student worker Gabriela (class of 2020) and features the rock opera Tommy, originally released by the Who in 1969. Thanks, Gabi!
The Who
Tommy
I grew up listening to classic rock. My father played anything from The Beatles, to Led Zeppelin, to The Eagles for me from the moment I was born, and this is something I cherish greatly. Not only did it bring us closer together, but it sparked my interest in music and shaped music taste from a young age. The Who was particularly special to my father and me, and nothing was more special than Tommy.
I remember listening to the Tommy CD in my dad’s old Saturn Vue on the way to school. It was magical, and the first time that the classic rock sound I knew so well sounded like something completely different. Tommy is a rock opera written by The Who’s guitar player, Pete Townshend, and performed by the entirety of the band. It tells the story of a deaf, mute and blind boy who relies on his imagination to get him through his difficult life, and even develops a sense of touch that is strong enough to make him a champion at pinball. Like a musical, Tommy’s fascinating odyssey is told through music, as each song describes a different episode in his life.
In some cases, the detailed nature of Townshend’s songwriting makes the narrative easy enough to follow along with no visual component necessary. For example, the lyrics in the songs “Cousin Kevin,” where the listener learns of Tommy’s abusive relative, and “Go to the Mirror!,” where Tommy’s doctor finally determines the source of his disabilities, are straightforward and descriptive. However, some of the most powerful moments on the album exist within the instrumentals, where the music creates such a strong sense of imagery and emotion that it puts the listener in Tommy’s shoes without even using a lyric. The instrumental “Sparks” represents the “Amazing Journey” described to the listener immediately before it, and takes us along for the ride that is Tommy’s fascinating mind.
The Who in July 1969: L-R: Guitarist Pete Townshend, singer Roger Daltrey, drummer Keith Moon (1947-1978), and bassist John Entwistle (1944 – 2002) pose around a table for a feature in Vogue magazine. (Photo by Jack Robinson/Hulton Archive/Getty Images)
I don’t know if I could pick a favorite song today, but I remember my first favorite was “Sally Simpson,” a moment in which the main plot of Tommy is interrupted to tell the story of a young girl. Even the upbeat musical tone of the song itself seems to deviate from what the listener has heard on the album thus far. Here, Townshend further demonstrates his genius through the use of metafiction, or a story within a story. Sally, a young girl, is one of Tommy’s superfans who sneaks out of the house to watch Tommy speak, and is ultimately injured badly when she tries to get on stage to touch him. Although Sally’s life directly connects with Tommy’s, through her separate story, the listener gets an outsider’s perspective on how Tommy’s fame is impacting everyday people.
Listening to Tommy is a musical experience unlike any other. Not only is the story itself unique and full of lessons, but Townshend’s brilliant songwriting pairs so perfectly with the storytelling and singing of Roger Daltrey. Listening to Tommy is reading a novel you just can’t seem to put down; it is watching a movie where you want to catch everything so you try not to blink. The album even inspired a movie of the same name featuring a star-studded cast, and a subsequent Broadway musical. How many albums do you know that fit this description?
Poster for the 1975 movie version of Tommy (l) and for the 1993 Broadway production (r)
Most kids probably can’t sing along to “The Acid Queen,” (maybe for a good reason) but I’m thankful that I knew the words, even if I didn’t understand what it meant. I didn’t have to understand it to know it was something special. Thanks dad, for putting Tommy on in the car and eventually taking me to watch Roger Daltrey himself perform the album live in its entirety.
