The Who – Tommy Review

Concept albums are only as good as the concept they’re based on. Novel it may be to point this out, but it’s worth mentioning in the case of The Who and Tommy. The Roger Daltrey-fronted band were not exactly a soft touch when it came to thematically driven material. The Who Sell Out is a nice enough album with some stop-offs at excellent instrumental quality, but the message driving through it, one which would denounce commercialisation, never quite lands. Not effectively, anyway. The Who would act on that message with sincerity and push for a sound which, while still commercially viable, began drifting from what they could’ve morphed into after their debut, My Generation. Instead, they pivot towards a lengthy process of thematics and storytelling which, at the time of Tommy, the band were simply not ready for. Some remarkable moments feature, though they’re lost in the mix of a lopsided album. Pinball Wizard alone is not enough to carry the second half of an album, and yet The Who tries just that.  

Rock opera is what the band wants to make here, and they do a decent enough job. Overture is an easter egg-laden piece with symphonic adaptations, brief little cuttings of the instrumentals which would feature on later tracks throughout Tommy. Ambitions from the band are clear, and they’re a welcome change of pace. Quite the bold gear shift, but when has work which shied away from too much been remembered by generation after generation? Tommy is a masterpiece in intention, though falls to pieces. For those who can’t quite hop onto the theatrics of Tommy, they’re given an early taste and out with It’s a Boy. You can at least here where the album is headed on this rock opera journey and can jump ship if it’s not for you. But even then, there are signs that The Who know the very best thematic albums can be listened to as a whole but segmented, too. Pinball Wizard is the obvious highlight to pull from Tommy, but there is brilliance to be had with Amazing Journey long before that.  

Tommy does work as a narrative tale, too, of course it does, it’s just clunky. A few hangovers of that Beatles-influenced sound can be heard harmonising on the backdrop to Christmas, for instance, but a bulk of Tommy is pure Who thrills. Move past the Getting Better All the Time-like guitar work from Pete Townshend and focus, instead, on Keith Moon’s magnificent percussion. Preceding track Eyesight to the Blind (The Hawker) is a roaring treat, The Who with that unique spin on rock and roll, a tone they would develop better across Tommy. Crucial to Tommy, beyond its instrumental thrills, is that crucial writing quality. Tommy Can You Hear Me is a crucial core for the album’s concept, but it can be listened to in isolation. Few albums with such an overarching story can offer that, but it’s a credit to The Who that this is the case here. A collapse is on the cards soon after.  

Assured pieces of work towards the end of the album are hardly lining up with the weighty brilliance of what preceded it. Songs like Sally Simpson and I’m Free, while nice and crucial to continuing the narrative, are a step down in quality. Daltrey performs well, he’s backed by Townshend, Moon, and John Entwistle’s instrumental grace still, but Tommy just feels to have run its course a side too early. The atmosphere is cooler, the instrumental tone one that serves the conclusion of the story, a little looser than it should feel and would feel on albums before and after Tommy. An ambitious storyteller is crucial to Tommy, and The Who has that as Daltrey takes on all these characters. He delivers well enough, and the story unfolds quite nicely, though it’s hard to pinpoint the stirring themes or emotional complexity. Tommy fails to feature that clearly, though the fact that the band has pieced together such a long piece of storytelling remains something to marvel at.