Thrifty Tunes 12.06.08: John Entwistle

Posted by Paul Hollingsworth on 12.06.2008

The other guy from The Who, with no help from Townsend or Daltry and just a hint of Moon, released Smash Your head Against The Wall back in 1971. John Entwistle knew his way around a bass, but how did he fare in his first attempt at leading a band? As an extra special Christmas bonus, the greatest Christmas carol ever recorded is included, free of charge, in this week's edition of Thrifty Tunes.




As I've said several times before, one of the great losses of the move to digital musical formats is the loss of great cover art. Imagine you're a teenager back in 1971, flipping through stacks and stacks of records at the local record store. Most of the covers feature pretty boys and girls looking pretty and unthreatening. Like most teenagers, you're not exactly sure what you want, but you're old enough to know you want your music to be like your life, most definitely not pretty and very intensely threatening. As you flip through The Osmonds and The Bee Gees you happen to see this:



You may not know what it is, but you feel like it's music you're ready for. The cover is actually John Entwistle's face, done up as though he were an Egyptian mummy, superimposed over an x-ray of a person with lung cancer. The back cover has a skull and something dead and furry. How can you resist? This is my life; you say to yourself, this music will be the autobiography I've never had time to write.

Luckily, I found this record underneath a stack of thirty year old National Geographic magazines, (you know, the yellow-spined space eaters that more than likely infest either your parents or your grandparents houses) and I eagerly gave the nice lady behind the counter my fifty cents and took home my newest treasure. Although I didn't know it at the time, and I discovered it twenty years too late, this record feels like it was written for me, at least the young awkward teenager I used to be. (Since I'm now a divorced, awkward adult, it's still very easy to relate.)

The album opens with "My size," one of the most Who-like songs on the record. Entwistle's voice, mostly heard only in the backgrounds and choruses of Who songs, sounds like deep rolls of thunder. Even though it's familiar territory, it's not exactly what you expect. It's as though you're on a familiar stretch of land in your hometown but all the landmarks you've known forever are no longer in their same places. Entwistle invites you into his world by giving you a bit of comfort food here but then slams the door shut behind you and drags you into a much darker and more interesting place.



The third track, "What are we doing here?" is where the record really takes off. Entwistle's skill as a song writer is on full display here. Both the music and lyrics are so tightly wound together that the slightest pull or push in either direction would result in the messiest of Gordian knots. It's music made for walking on the edge of a razor, and you've got to take the all important first step of faith to go forward.

Side one ends with "Heaven and hell," Entwistle's cover of a song he wrote for the Who. Entwistle's solo version is at least as good as the original, and maybe just a tad better, although I'm pretty sure this is one of the tracks on which Keith Moon played drums. The drummer on most of the tracks is Neil Innes, who later wrote songs and sketches for Monty Python. This song fits the tone of the record, which has been both dark and grim from the beginning, and wasn't just recorded to fill up space. Great records have their own flow and rhythm, and since "Heaven and hell" ends side one, you're forced to ask, 'What comes next after heaven and hell?'

The answer, obviously, is "Ted end", about the death of a friend. Entwistle actually channels a bit of The Beatles here, and accounts himself quite well in the process. I've never heard a better song about a funeral no one goes to except for, well, you know, that one Beatles' song. I don't know if they played this at Entwistle's own funeral a few years ago but it certainly could have been. Incidentally, Entwistle died, at the age of 57, in a hotel room in Las Vegas on June 27, 2002, the day before the Who were scheduled to start an American tour. Cocaine was found in his system and a hooker was found in his bed. I'm sure that's just the way that John would have wanted it, although, like everybody else, perhaps not quite so soon.

"No. 29 (External youth)", is the penultimate track and another solid effort from Entwistle. It's one of the few tracks which feature a lengthy solo from both the lead guitarist, Cyrano, and a bass solo from Entwistle. This song gives you a small sampling of why Entwistle is considered one of the most influential bassists of all time. As an amateur bass player myself, I can tell you that Entwistle's licks are some of the most technically difficult to copy, and just about every bass player who's ever picked up the instrument owes no small debt to his ability.



The album's final track, "I Believe in Everything," is one of the more depressing tracks on the record, and includes a few lyrics from "Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer." Merry Christmas indeed. Is this an attempt to add a little humor to what has been an album's worth of misery? Or is it, instead, Entwistle's little joke about the futility of believing in anything? Heady questions and questions which most all of us deal with at some time in our lives. It's not normally the subject of pop songs, but Entwistle, like any good psychopomp, merely raises the questions and forces us to make our own, often uneasy, answers.


Complete Track Listing: (I have the original Track Record release of 1971. Later cd releases include, among other tracks, Entwistle's version of Neil Young's "Cinnamon Girl"
Side One:
1. My size
2. Pick me up (big chicken)
3. What are we doing here?
4. What kind of people are they?
5. Heaven and hell
Side Two:
1. Ted end
2. You're mine
3. No. 29 (External youth)
4. I believe in everything

Entwistle was the first member of The Who to release a solo album and clearly enjoyed the freedom which his solo records allowed. Without the giant shadows of his Who band mates, Entwistle was able to stake out his own musical territory. His other solo releases, especially Whistle Rhymes from 1972 and Mad Dog from 1975 are full of great songs, but I've spun this record more than most any other in my collection. If you like The Who, (and if you don't, what's wrong with you?) you'll enjoy listening to Entwistle's solo work.

Pickett Stars: Five out of five

Next Week: If you think hip-hop started in the late 70's and early 80's in New York, you're in for a rude awakening. I'll take a look at The Last Poets debut album from 1970.