In honor of the 10th anniversary of Who bassist John Entwistle's death this week (June 27th, 2002), Pete Townshend posted a long remembrance to his longtime musical ally on TheWho.com. Entwistle died at age 57 on June 27th, 2002 in Las Vegas from a drug-induced heart attack on the eve of the Who's North American tour. After several days of soul searching -- and taking into account the large crew that would be left jobless by the cancellation of the tour, Townshend and Roger Daltrey opted to go ahead with the tour and recruited bassist Pino Palladino to fill in for Entwistle. Palladino remains the band's bassist to this day.
Here are excerpts from Townshend's post where he talked about what Entwistle meant to him both professionally and personally:
John Entwistle. It's ten years since his shocking death in Las Vegas. I have to say that this is not a particularly special time for me because I remember John every day. There is always something to trigger a fond memory. What does make the time just after John's death in 2002 worth remembering and processing were the massive changes that happened because -- suddenly -- he was gone, and we had a tour to do, or perhaps not to do. Musically I knew everything would be different on stage. Not better, just different.
Let me speak first then about John the musician.
John's sound was harmonically rich and filled an enormous part of the audio spectrum. There really is no one who can do what he did. Other bass players can copy his sound, and try to emulate his fingering, but at the heart of John's playing was a contradiction. His laid back character disguised a powerful musical ego, supported by immense musical talent. His playing was complex and fast, but there are few players alive who could combine such speed and eloquence on the bass with such good taste musically speaking. Like Keith Moon, he really is irreplaceable. His sound can be emulated, and I sometimes hear players who can approach John's musicianship, but John really was unique, a complete one-off, an innovator who never stopped experimenting.
As a person, as an old friend from my school days, I think my side of the street is reasonably clean. I always felt a strong sense of loving friendship from John, and I think I will cling on to that memory even though Queenie, his late mother, once got angry with me for being angry with John about the way he died and told me that John had never loved me at all. In fact a couple of times John had actually told me he loved me. We were usually alone, and he might have been a bit drunk, but sometimes when we're drunk we tell the truth. I accept that sometimes we stretch it, so I reserve the right to stretch it and believe that John was not stretching it.
When we speak about loving someone, there is always something unsaid. We love people we do not like. We like people we can never love. We might even marry or go into business with someone we neither like nor love and have a wonderful life or career with them. This is especially true for bands. It isn't always easy to know what is the truth, and of course -- if Queenie is to be believed -- feelings between two friends can be intense but not necessarily equal. For me, with John, the situation is clear cut. There are no difficulties, no blurred images. I loved John, I liked him, I respected him, and I miss him. I don't think he ever put a foot wrong in our relationship. He never said or did anything that I can look back on and fan embers of even the smallest resentment towards him.
Townshend closed by saying: "Some people are utterly without peer. When they are gone they leave an immense vacuum. So it is with John: When he died he left a void that can only be filled with good memories, affectionate recollections, and some healthy and critical review of his occasionally crazy behavior and extraordinary sense of humor. We met at school, but although we were only twelve years old, John was almost a man by then, while I would remain a little boy for many years to come; we've all known such friendships in our school days. I sometimes say that when we met I was eleven years old because that's how it felt; John was like a fifteen or sixteen year old to me. What is extraordinary is that John took me under his wing so kindly when we first met, and was always a supporter of mine even when I goofed. He was never patronizing. I never felt he had to work at it, his support came naturally, and didn't seem to be a part of any agenda. By the way, Queenie was always kind to me too when I was a teenager.
I could go on for pages and pages. But I'm not the only one to be in a position to speak for John. He was the one of us who stayed closest to our most obsessively loyal fans, propping up the bar before and after shows, and enjoying their affection and interest. I'm sure there a hundred stories out there. It would be good to hear some of them.
It was 40 years ago this week (June 17th, 1972) that the Eagles released their debut album, titled simply, Eagles. The band recorded the set in February 1972 at London's Olympic Studios with legendary Beatles, Rolling Stones, Who, and Led Zeppelin engineer/producer Glyn Johns behind the boards and running the sessions. The album featured the original lineup of the band: Glenn Frey, rhythm guitar; Don Henley, drums; Randy Meisner, bass; and Bernie Leadon on lead guitar. Although Eagles only got as far as Number 22 on the charts, it eventually went platinum and scored the band it's first Top 40 singles -- "Take it Easy" (#12), "Witchy Woman (#9)" and "Peaceful Easy Feeling" (#22).
For a band that's so automatically associated with Southern California, it's amazing that not one member of the Eagles' founders was actually born or raised there. Don Henley was born in Linden, Texas and traveled west with his first band Shiloh, after singer Kenny Rogers offered the group a production deal. Glenn Frey, who came from Detroit, Michigan, had been playing in bands in and around the Motor City for years. He made his way out to L.A. not for a shot at stardom -- but as a last-ditch effort to reunite with his ex-girlfriend who had moved west to become a singer.
Randy Meisner came from Scottsbluff, Nebraska and had already been making his mark on the L.A. country-rock scene playing with Poco and later on with Rick Nelson and the Stone Canyon Band. Bernie Leadon, a Minnesota native who was raised in Florida, was the group's most accomplished member, having been in the Byrds-offshoot band the Flying Burrito Brothers. In July 1971, the Eagles first performed together while backing their good friend Linda Ronstadt in concert in Disneyland.
The Eagles go In The Studio this Sunday night at 8 pm for for a great discussion on the last 40 years on ROCK 101 WROQ!!
Rush's new studio album, Clockwork Angels, is expected to sell between 85,000 and 95,000 copies in its first week of release since arriving in stores last Tuesday (June 12th). Those sales estimates are based on one-day tracking reports compiled by industry website Hits Daily Double. Those sales could be good enough to put the album in the Top Three or even possibly earn the group its first-ever Number One on this week's Billboard album chart, which comes out on Wednesday (June 20th).
The new disc is Rush's 20th studio effort and the trio's first explicit concept album since 1978's Hemispheres, with drummer and lyricist Neil Peart coming up with the plot and characters. We asked guitarist Alex Lifeson about getting back into storytelling mode.
It was 45 years ago today (June 1st, 1967), that the Beatles released the legendary Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band album in the U.K. The album, which was released a day later in the U.S., was one of the most groundbreaking and influential records in history. There had been an unprecedented eight-month gap with no new Beatles music since the group's previous album, 1966's Revolver, with the exception of the double A-sided single "Penny Lane/Strawberry Fields Forever," which was recorded during the Sgt Pepper sessions. The album was highly anticipated, and was an immediate critical and commercial success.
Sgt. Pepper was the first Beatles album to be recorded after the group had stopped touring. As a result, the band could now take all the time they wanted with producer George Martin, rather than try to squeeze sessions in between tours, films, and other activities. The recording sessions stretched over a five-month period, spanning from November 24th, 1966 to April 21st, 1967, at the legendary Abbey Road Studios.
The album was notable for its advance in the Beatles' songwriting, its unusual arrangements and orchestration, and its groundbreaking production techniques. It also represented a musical and visual step into psychedelia and the counterculture by the world's most popular band, and its release coincided with the famous 1967 "Summer of Love." It was hailed as a masterpiece by musicians and critics in all fields, and helped show the world that pop music could be taken more seriously as art.
Many other aspects of the album raised the bar for pop music albums, from the way the songs ran into each other, to sonic jokes embedded in the tracks, to the elaborate cover photo and packaging. The album's influence on pop culture has been immense.
