The press materials for The Who at Kilburn 1977 describe this DVD as “a holy grail for fans after decades of anticipation,” and that’s no piece of bull dreamed up by somebody in marketing. Die-hard Who fans (a group of which I proudly include myself as a member) have long since obsessed over obtaining audio and/or video from a handful of legendary shows, including, but not limited to:

• London, 5/2/69: the premiere of Tommy to the press at Ronnie Scott’s Jazz Club;

• Newcastle, 11/5/73: the sixth night of the Quadrophenia tour, when the band’s backing tapes failed, resulting in Townshend pulling longtime soundman Bobby Pridden across the soundboard, ripping out backing tapes and smashing equipment, all to the disbelief of the rest of the band … and the entire crowd;

• Kilburn, 12/15/77: aka the second-to-last Who concert to feature Keith Moon, filmed for inclusion in Jeff Stein’s masterpiece rockumentary The Kids Are Alright but shelved because of a subpar performance by an out-of-practice band (save for the inclusion of “My Wife” on the TKAA soundtrack and a few 15-30 second clips over the years).

Audio from the Kilburn show surfaced on a bootleg in the early part of this decade (oddly enough, most likely from one of my cassette tapes, but that’s another story) and last week, the full concert, warts and all, was finally released in all its six-camera, 35mm glory, along with a second disc featuring footage from a Tommy show at the London Coliseum.

So now, the questions can be answered: were the ‘oo truly ‘orrible? Is the Kilburn show nothing but a display of mediocrity? Were the Who justified in shelving it for all these years?

Hardly.

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There are few things more entertaining on planet Earth than watching a guy who’s recently gone through some sort of emotional distress. I once stopped by a buddy’s place after having to put my dog to sleep; clearly having no idea what the accepted etiquette in such a situation was, he asked me, straight-faced, “So, uh, how’d it go?” Luckily, guys are also especially equipped to handle such things, as they, if nothing else, probably have a horrifying movie in the cabinet to watch. Let us turn things over now to Jason Hare, who sure plays a mean pinball.

“Jesus Christ, when is she going to stop flinging poop?”
By Jason Hare

The song that reminds me of being dumped, thankfully, always ends with me rolling in hysterics on the floor.

My first really hardcore dumping happened when I was 16 years old. I was pretty much completely oblivious to the fact that my girlfriend had been cheating on me for a couple of months; I had suspicions, but this was at a time where I still believed that people, when confronted with the devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other, would head in the direction of the harp and wings. One Saturday afternoon, I got the phone call where she finally gave me the one-two punch: yes, she had cheated on me, and yes, she was breaking up with me — and not even to necessarily be with the other guy. Somehow, that made it worse.

I had that horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. You know the feeling. I got off the phone and did everything I could to hold back my tears. Luckily, I’ve always had good friends who are right there to try and take your mind off of things the minute something like this happens. I quickly called Andrew and Mike (formerly of Down With Snark) and invited them to come over and watch a movie. I was just becoming a Who fan, and decided that perhaps this would be a good time to see Ken Russell’s film version of Tommy. We were all in a band together, and all dug The Who; I figured this was a good opportunity to focus on something other than what a sucker I had been for a few months. Anything to get the day’s events off of my mind.

So we sat down to watch Tommy. Have you ever seen Tommy? If so, you’ll know it’s unlike just about any other movie. I know Who fans who insist it’s a cinematic masterpiece. However, I think it’s easily one of the worst movies I’ve ever seen.  But thankfully, it’s bad in one of those so-terrible-it’s-funny ways. Mike, Andrew and I started laughing within the first 15 minutes of the movie, when they continuously flash back to these shots of Captain Walker screaming bloody murder as his plane crashes. The whole movie is just so awful: from Jack Nicholson’s pathetic attempt at singing to Tina Turner’s awesome-yet-frightening-as-hell turn as The Acid Queen, to Eric Clapton’s “Hey, anybody got any more heroin?” turn singing “Eyesight to the Blind.” And I haven’t even mentioned Oliver Reed. (more…)