Turns Out He Didn't Die Before He Got Old

While I was out for a drive on Monday afternoon, the Who’s anthem “My Generation” came on WLIW, the Long Island radio station we can hear in southern Connecticut.

“I know why they’re playing this!” I told my wife. I noted I’d read something somewhat startling in the New Haven Register that morning.

Sure enough, when the d.j., Brian Cosgrove, spoke after the song, he announced that Pete Townshend, the Who’s guitarist and lyricist, was observing his 80th birthday.

Cosgrove had chosen to play that particular song, I’m sure, because it contains the line that has haunted Townshend for decades: “Hope I die before I get old.”

He wrote that in 1965. He was 20 years old.

Yes, and now the Who are preparing for what they laughably call “The Song Is over North American Farewell Tour.”

I’ve heard this song before. For instance, in 1982 they had a “farewell tour” which included a spectacular show at Shea Stadium in front of about 70,000 fans. I was one of them.

I’ve long had a love-hate relationship with the Who. At their peak I was riveted by their “Tommy” album. I still enjoy hearing “Substitute, “The Magic Bus,” etc. But even the Who can wear out their welcome.

In December 1982, as the rock critic for the New Haven Register, I wrote a story headlined “The Who: Trapped by Past.” I declared: “The time has come for the Who to retire. They’ve gone stale — and what’s worse, they’ve gotten greedy, or at best, negligent.”

I quoted the band’s lead singer Roger Daltrey: “I feel that our type of rock ‘n’ roll is prehistoric. And the sooner we get out of it, the sooner people are going to listen to new stuff.” He also said, “I want to end the group in the right way: on top, before we become parodies of ourselves.”

Watch what they do, not what they say.

I admit I’ve experienced some amazing times with this band. In December 1979, only two weeks after 11 of their fans were trampled to death at the entrance to Cincinnati’s Riverfront Coliseum, the Who came to the New Haven Coliseum and gave us an exciting, almost redemptive performance. Townshend did his trademark leaps and delivered those clashing chords with pinwheeling arms; Daltrey whipped his microphone around like a lariat.

Their new drummer was Kenny Jones; Keith Moon had died the previous year. Bassist John Entwistle was still with the band in 1979 and would live on until three years ago.

My most vivid memory of that night was the sheer volume, almost as if we were under attack. I was sitting in one of the rows closest to the stage and so got it full force. I recall a young woman near me calling out: “I think I’m going deaf!”

But that’s the thing about the Who — they’ve long enjoyed their reputation of being one of the loudest rock bands in the world. Most of their fans like it. But they, and I, and Townshend himself, have paid a price for this.

In 1989 the Who announced they were doing yet another “farewell tour” and would celebrate it by performing the entire “Tommy” double album. Using my contacts with the d.j.’s at New Haven’s WPLR, I snagged a ticket to see the show at Radio City Music Hall. Once again my seat was near the stage, near those giant amplifiers. I had brought along my ear plugs but stupidly decided not to use them; I wanted to get “the full effect” of a live performance of one of my favorite albums.

We got the usual transcendent Who show. I almost felt I’d made up for missing the Who doing “Tommy” at Woodstock. And as a bonus, I used my special access ticket at Radio City to meet and greet these rock gods afterward. A door opened near where I was standing, and out came Pete Townshend! I stuck out my hand and said, “Thanks for coming back and doing this show.” Townshend politely shook my hand and moved on to greet others in the room.

Little did I know that I had thanked him after he and his mates had unleashed such a mega-dose of amplified music that it would result in giving me tinnitus for the rest of my life. All these years later, my ears are still ringing.

And guess what — Townshend has suffered from tinnitus and hearing loss since the 1970s. According to some reports he has gone completely deaf in one ear and has partial hearing loss in the other.

And so why is he still touring? Why is he inflicting ear damage on a new generation of fans and on his older, long-time fan base?

It can’t be for the money. He needs the ego gratification. He can’t give it up, even at 80.

Years ago, Townshend was asked: “What do you recommend people do to protect their hearing at rock concerts?” His cavalier reply: “If you wear protection or work at very low sound levels, you lose the vibe. Sorry, that’s my view. We need to work at what would be illegal sound levels in industry or normal workplaces in order to FEEL what we do. At least, I do. It inevitably causes damage.”

He added, “Then, if you’re me, you get old and your hearing deteriorates further. I wear modern fancy hearing aids, and life is grand.”

No, I won’t be going to see the Who’s latest “farewell” tour, nor any of their future “farewell” shows. I don’t want to inflict further damage to my hearing. Besides, it’d probably be unbearably depressing to see them struggling to reprise their youthful performances (Daltrey, at 81, is even older than Townshend). Townshend’s fans have long called out: “Jump, Pete! Jump!” But how high can he jump at 80?

As I wrote 43 years ago, the time has come for the Who to retire.