I gotta thank you, E. Pluribus Gergley. I’d been meaning to post this video for months, and kept falling down on the job. Your recent comments (and those of Townsman Mockcarr), however, have finally spurred me into action.
I recently found a beat-up old single of the first of the two tunes featured in this clip, namely, “Ooh Poo Pah Do,” and it was pretty good. (Ike and Tina Turner, maybe? I forget.) But — MAN — there’s just something about seeing the schoolyard bully version of the Who belting it out in a sweaty nightclub somewhere in London town in 1964. I mean, shit — you can see just about everything that would make the Who such a great band, at least in terms of their superb Mach Schau factor… and they’re just pimply faced punks!
I just love this clip. Love, love, LOVE it. Hope you and Mockcarr do, too.
Your pal,
FS
p.s.: send me an e-mail about this jazz collection. I have no interest myself, but if you need a favor, maybe we could work something out in terms of me picking them up for you. You got any cool old music gear you don’t want?
By the way, what IS that lyric in “Daddy Rolling Stone”?
I got a friend named Croney
He’s got a girl named Chris
Gonna steal that girl though he’s twice my size
‘Cuz I know how to do it like this
I’m a daddy…
To which I say: “Croney”? You know how to do it like *what*?
Still, the Who totally rock that song out. It’s actually one of my fave Who numbers. I have a similar boner for a Kinks song most folks feel is a barrel-scraper: “Sitting On My Sofa.”
HVB
The original 1960 version of Ooh Poo Pah Doo was sung by Jessie Hill and produced by Allen Toussaint:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vQkYn05vidE
I think of it as a carnival song, and the opening recalls a Mardi Gras Indian chant. Unlike the Who version, it maintains a steady tempo.
I love the rhyme: “I won’t stop tryin’ till I create a disturbance in your mind.
This was the only real gem in The Who’s Amazing Journey DVD set. It’s nice to see it spot lighted here. My only complaint is that it wasn’t the whole set, but what can ya do? I’ll take what I can get.
First off, happy belated B-Day HVB
“Daddy Rolling Stone” is a great song. I also like their versions of “Leaving Here” & “Shout and Shimmy”.
Finally, is the Amazing Journey DVD worth picking up at all or should I just stick w/The Kids Are Alright?
Gotta love Moonie although his tempo is unstable and his traps do sound like biscuit tins. Was Daltrey actually “cool” then? I fear it might be that he WAS the cool one in 1964.
I think Daltrey’s always been cool, much cooler than he’s often given credit for being. But I’m not cool, so what do I know?
What strikes me more than The Who’s excellent performance and mach schau-ness are the setting, the audience, and the film quality.
Not enough clubs allow the audience to be up close and wrap around the stage the way clubs seemed to do more frequently in the ’60s.
Not enough audience members (if any) these days have the balls and self-confidence to crowd the stage and actually bop around to the music, as it was intended to be enjoyed by an audience. Everyone’s tamping their pipes and stroking their beards these days, wondering how a band’s performance matches up to a previously unreleased outtake from Big Star’s Sister Lovers sessions.
People who video tape performances these days a) rarely get that quality that came from British film in the early ’60s, b) rarely know what’s cool to focus on when filming a band, and c) do not have the option of filming young people unself-consciously bopping around to the live music. It’s all straight-up shots on the singer and an occasional cut to a middle-aged guy playing air guitar.
I was thinking the same thing about Daltrey. He looks really cool, much more so that Pete and John. He could be the Rod Stewart of Looks.
Also, his voice sounds awesome. How did he go from that singing voice to that annoying “and I look pretty crappy SOMEtimes!” delivery?
The answer to your question about Daltrey’s “You Better You Bet” voice, cdm, is that Townshend finally beat him into agreeing to sing more like Pete sang the songs on his demos. Sad!
Hey Hrundi,
Hope all is well. Thanks for posting the clip. Can’t speak for all (as usual), but the real treat for me is watching Keith Moon. Godalmighty was he something else! I would have liked to have had that clip in years past to show whatever drummer I may have been working with EXACTLY what kind of drumming thing I was looking for (man is that a bad sentence!). There are few who “get” the whole Moon/Mitch Mitchel style. Finding those that “get it” and can play it are as rare as hen’s teeth.
The jazz collection is most probably gone by this point. I left a message with the person responsible for the estate but didn’t hear back. The fella that was selling it was a clean out guy based in Alexandria. How he got my number is anyone’s guess. Clean 50s and 60s mono collections move faster than the speed of sound.
Call me crazy, but I watched “Let it Be” again for the 500th time. What follows are most probably very trite observations: 1) Lennon was a kick ass guitar player, which is readily apparent while watching his lead guitar work during the rooftop performance of “Get Back”. What I like most about that number is that he frequently looks over at McCartney after he finishes a lead. Lennon’s always smiling and probably still looking for a thumbs up on a job well done. MCartney is clearly pleased with his buddy’s intricate twangings. They’re absolutely and positively enjoying each other’s company and both seem to be in awe of the fact that they can still play so well together, even after all the shit that’s going down with Apple, Allen Klein/Lee Eastman, and Yoko. The whole thing is very bittersweet. Any fan most probably watches the scene and says, “God, even at that point, they were still unfrigginbelievable. Why the hell couldn’t they get it together?”
Earlier in the movie, the band is working on Harrison’s “For You Blue”. By all critieria, it’s a very mediocre song writing effort, but once again, the group morphs its mediocrity into something charming. Again, they are cleary enjoying working together. And once again, Lennon is the surprise. During the slide guitar fillers, the camera first focuses solely on the player’s hands and slide guitar. The novice assumes they must belong to Harrison. The camera backs up. . .it’s Lennon. Holy Shit! Very Rumpelstiltskinlike -taking this slab of wood and turing it into a tool that can crank out oure magic. Again, he’s having the time of his life. He’s utterly amazed that he’s the one responsible for these nifty wiry sounds. After a fill, he looks for a thumbs up from Yoko. She could care less. And what’s refreshing is the fact that he doesn’t even seem to care. He just sort of raises an eyebrow (who cares what you think anyway?) and carries on. Again, any fan most probably watches that scene any says, “Why the hell did he have to hook up with her?” Why? She’s a necessary evil that made “Revolution”, “Happiness is A Warm Gun”, “Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except for Me and My Monkey”, i.e all that incredibly fucked up psychologcal garbage bag shit, possible. And that stuff is SSSOOOOOOOOO FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOD!
And Harrison, in turn, is still looking for Lennon’s approval, which is and never will be forthcoming. His lead guitar work is still embarrassing to Lennon, readily apparent during another rooftop number in which Harrison jokingly pretends to “rock out”, playing on his knees in front of Lennon, looking for a chuckle. The chuckle is not forthcoming. He’s still more or less seen as a child who needs to get his act together. Worthy of note is the fact that Harrison’s godawful phase-shifter wah effect, which has ruined every rehearsal session in the movie, is turned off during the entire rooftop performance. I’d like to believe that either McCartney or Lennon couldn’t take the noise anymore and gave him an ultimatum concerning its continuation before they gave their final public performance. It’s not my intention here to bad mouth Harrison. . . .Acutally it is my intention. Whatever the case, Harrison did write “Taxman”. That alone wipes out any awful or embarrassing thing he’s ever done. He can clearly rest in peace for all eternity, knowing that that little piece of work will continue to be a tasty treat for pot smoking teenagers until doomsday. No? Get high and listen to the track with the treble control set at about 6.5 and the bass set at 10. Trust me, it just doesn’t get any better than that.
Sorry for going on and on, but I just LOVE The Beatles. They’re hands down the greatest thing, besides my ball and chain and brats, that the almighty ever chose to give this godforsaken shithole of a world. Talk about all else pop is pretty much pointless after seeing their rooftop thang.
Time to eat some crabs and get bombed!
E. Pluribs
Rock on, E. Pluribus! I’m looking forward to seeing you guys tomorrow. Remember: Looking for Richard!
Will people ever get over Yoko????
I must be a rare breed: a Beatles & a Yoko admirer. Sacrelige be my middle name!
Over 45 years after first appearing on Ed Sullivan, Macca was in the same studio for a Letterman appearance the other night.
The guy puts his foot in his mouth almost every time he opens it because he can’t say anything without seeming smirky. Even the most innocuous thing comes off poorly. Or is it just me?
And he looks like a relatively benign case of Michael Jackson with the hair dyed and the rather obvious plastic surgery. Unlike Jacko, it’s very well done surgery though. But I don’t think the quantity of jowls that Paul had a few years ago just disappear naturally.
But then all can be forgiven when he does a couple numbers. In a nod to that rooftop concert E. rhapsodizes about, McCartney performs from the top of the marquee outside the Ed Sullivan Theater to throngs of people below. And in another nod, he does Get Back (followed by a number from his recent The Fireman album which was good enough to make me want to pick that one up sometime).
And, not broadcast, he did five more numbers that you can catch here:
http://www.cbs.com/late_show/video/video.php?cid&pid=fzpWCxqAuDZwGgob5UHl_kGg4SWa6qCm&play=true&cc
You can’t help but smile watching it, thinking about what was and dreaming about what could have been.
Hey Al,
I just checked out that clip of “Rooftop Mach II”. I think I can safely say that nothing goes on there that will ever threaten “Rooftop I”‘s place in history.
I know you and I always disagree about the creative merits of our heroes past their real glory days, but I honestly can’t point to a single McCartney track I can appreciate without justifications past the Band on the Run LP. The last thing he did that put a smile on my face was “Here Today” from “Tug of War”. And I still enjoy hearing it, but it’s too much of a “Yesterday” like rip off (Martin’s violin arrangement, melody, overall production, etc.), and the lyrics have an insipidness that makes me cringe. I don’t see the point of getting hot and bothered about anything if it’s marred by a litany of so called minor issues similar to what I’ve noted above.
My issues with “Rooftop Mach II” are the same. Call me crazy, but I just don’t ever want to see “Helter Skelter” played by a botoxed pink button down McCartney and a black drummer with arms and legs thicker than redwood tree trunks. It would give me the greatest pleasure if all those old farts would move to Siberia, live, play together, keep all that back slapping Sammy Maudlin joy to themselves, and abstain themselves from the need of sharing all that crap with the general public. Years and years of that pervasive stench has tarnished the old catalogs and damaged the historical oooomph. Some time ago, a good buddy of mine sent me a verry embarrassing clip of a 65 year old Jagger chicken-strutting and finger pointing at a multitude of different areas of interest (a classic Jagger move) to supposedly enhance the audience’s interest in a two milllionth performance of “Jumping Jack Flash”, which used to be one of my all time favorite Stones numbers. Because of my buddy’s generosity, I can never listen to the track without seeing all that nonsense in my head. Again, there’s a perversity for attention which ought to be punishable by law.
Isn’t there some thing else these assholes can do to fill up their time? I’m not a fan of either Beefheart or Tony Bennett (although I can appreciate him more than Beefheart), but at least they found something else to do that is rewarding to both themselves and the public without any sort of embarrassment to their art, themselves, or their audience whatsoever.
Whatever. I’m not here to pick a fight. It’s the same old shit from me which you’re very familiar with. Your bent on all this is always appreciated.
Talk to ya soon,
E. Pluribus
P.S. You should check out that Five Stairsteps LP on Windy C. It’s loaded with a lot of beautifully written and produced Mayfield tracks. Are you familiar with “Playgirl’s Love”? Man, is that a winner!
I’m with you on Yoko, jeangray. The hatred is tiresome, but I don’t think it will ever go away.
Comment from BigSteve:
“I’m with you on Yoko, jeangray. The hatred is tiresome, but I don’t think it will ever go away.”
I’m sure Phil Donahue, M. Scott Peck, and Dan Gottlieb feel the same.
E, Pluribus
I’m not the biggest McCartney fan, but I enjoyed the clip. That dude is a terrific drummer.
Ugh. Once again, I’m on Team Gergley. I bet the most boring asshole at any party is the McCartney guitar Oliver. So many things are wrong with this segment, though. I propose a Last Man Standing; I’l start: the dressed-in-black, Green-Day-hair session guitarist “rocking out” while aping guitar licks written 40 years ago by musicians who never “rocked out” a day in their lives.
I’ve got no beef with Yoko, although it is painful to watch her in Let It Be, but isn’t that the whole point of that movie? There’s a lot of pain in that film. I’ve heard that Al Pacino is planning what he is referring to as a “meditation” on the film.
Here’s what I’ve come to believe about Yoko: I love Lennon and Yoko helped him feel better about himself and begin to grow into what seemed like a real man at the time of Double Fantasy. I don’t mean “real man” in the John Wayne sense but in the sense of how I hope any of us are or may be headed some day: comfortable with himself and his loved ones, doing his work in the here and now, aware of what he’s been through…
Lennon never missed an opportunity in an interview to credit Yoko with his growth as a person. The guy had already created a catalog of music that proved he was as mighty as any artist on earth, so I’m not taking many points off for “John Sinclair” or whatever laughable song he churned out to impress his main squeeze. It could be said his legacy had the good fortune to have his life snuffed out early. Perhaps we were spared the day when a pink-sweatered Lennon would be singing yet another version of “Stand By Me” on the rooftop outside Letterman’s studio. I don’t know, but more likely whatever it was that inspired him to keep chasing Yoko would have taken him down at least more satisfyingly embarrassing paths. You’ve got to give Yoko a little credit for that, E.
E, I’m with you pretty much all the way.
The point I was making – and apparently not making well enough – was that seeing this performance could evoke such pleasant memories of the roof top concert, in fact, of the whole Beatles era, that I’m immediately transported back 40+ years and can feel the same emotions – the joy, the promise, the freedom – that I felt then, even if I didn’t understand it then as well as I do now.
I saw Dylan the other night and felt similarly. I’d given up on Dylan live several years ago but a combination of listening to a recording from two weeks ago where he sounded better than he’s sounded in a decade and my 20 year old daughter and 12 year old son wanting to see him made me decide to go. And he did sound the best I’ve heard him in a long time and it was a special pleasure to see him again.
He’s a fraction of what he was but it was still Bob f*&^ing Dylan on the stage and for me that means he not only is the 68 year old crank up there, he’s the 25 year old who went electric as well. And there’s an objective part of me that sits there and listens to him miss notes and sing recent compositions that pale compared to his best. But there’s another part of me listening that takes in so much more.
And it was the same watching the Macca clip (especially so after reading your post about the lads). I saw the botox, I heard the missed notes. But, man, it was a Beatle there and so for me there was a lot more. I can’t see him or Ringo or footage of any of them without picturing me in February of ’64, sitting in front of that crappy black & white tv we had and knowing, just knowing, that something had just changed permanently for me. Or reliving the excitement of coming home with the “We Can Work It Out” single – the first record I ever bought with my own money – and playing it over and over. Or buying Sgt. Pepper when it came out – the first LP I bought with my own money – and listening to it non-stop that whole summer. I know now Sgt. Pepper is not their best but nothing will ever take away the excitement I feel when hearing the first notes of that album.
The music was astounding and the impact unmeasurable, so much so, that even 45 years later, when a foolish looking McCartney sits there with Letterman, the foolishness can’t diminish that impact on me.
Al
PS – Not familiar with that Stairsteps album; I’ll have to track it down.
I think it’s interesting that the two clips represent opposite poles. What I liked about the McC clip was its professionalism. And unlike the Jagger clip e saw, Paul retains some dignity. The cosmetic issues when you come down to it don’t affect the playing, and even if the drummer has to double to vocal on Band on the Run because Paul unsurprisingly can’t hit the notes anymore he and his band are recreating those songs about as well as it’s possible to do them. I’d rather see him be a bit smug than see him mugging like a moptop.
Now if you say that dignity and professionalism are the last things you want from rock&roll, I guess I’d disagree. That side of the equation is where the High Numbers lived. They’ve got youth, excitement, and enormous potential, but they can barely play. If you don’t think the original versions of Ooh Poo Pah Doo and Please Please Please are a million times better than the Who versions I can’t help you. I think the portrayal of the club scene was much more interesting than the musical performance. Some of the members of the audience were much cooler than the band, and it explains Pete’s lifelong attempt to capture and transmit ‘youth culture.’
Obviously you get better music if you mix the freshness and excitement with some dignity and skilled musicianship. Much of the music I’m interested falls somewhere towards the middle of that bell curve. I think it’s easy for old or aging music geeks like us to overvalue the youth/energy end of the spectrum because it’s the one thing we no longer have reliable access to. On the other hand musicianship and hard-earned poise without some kind of spark and edge is going to be unsatisfactory.
Al,
Well stated. I appreciate your perspective. The real difference between you and me is that you still see your idols buried in all that wax. For me, it’s a case of “I’m looking through you. Where did you go?” And believe me, I wish I could see what you’re seeing.
One’s bent on Lennon’s stay at home dad days vary from black to white, and accounts are usually dependent on the author’s relationship with John or Yoko. Some see a nurturing wife while others see an evil sorceress with a voodoo doll and pins. I think you all know where I stand. Whether or not Lennon matured is not an issue with me. I could care less. As I’ve stated previously, the creative world, the world period for that matter, is better off since she chose to stick pins the size of knitting needles up John’s ass, and he readily accepted their implementation. I appreciate her because she fucked with his head and made those songs possible. And I think most would agree that having that body of sounds around is a lot better than having one more well adjusted human being walking the Earth and getting excited about sports.
Here comes trouble!
E. Pluribus