The Who
Live At The Cow Palace

Until today, every biographical film I have had the chance to see has always proven to be a half disappointment. I've always felt that, besides the successes, loves, fights, money, and drugs, what was truly missing was the artist's soul.
Not that it is an easy thing to communicate, and in fact, many icons of the twentieth century remain cinematically untold to this day. 

But if I were to write the script for the Who's biography, I would have no doubt. I would leave aside everything: childhood, the relationship with the recording industry, the early successes... Everything. It wouldn't be needed.
To strip out the soul, it would take a clean and decisive cut, something that would penetrate the Who through and through so quickly that it would fall to the ground still warm and bloody, as if to know the age of an ancient tree there were no other solution than to cut its trunk in two and count the rings.
My narrative would not be able to cover more than 24 hours, precisely from sunset to dawn of Tuesday, November 20, 1973. 

The Who are at the pinnacle of success. Quadrophenia, their latest masterpiece, has just been released, and the American tour is a continuous sellout.

The first shot would inevitably be entrusted to the toilet of the hotel room that Keith Moon is about to blow up with dynamite. Even before departing for the Cow Palace in Daly City, California, he already has enough tranquilizers and alcohol in his body to bring down an elephant. Yet, on stage, the magic is always the same. The endless battle in counter and downbeat between Townshend and Moon starts immediately. On one side, Pete drags the pieces downward, on the other, Keith grabs them by the hair and tries to pull them upward. In “My Generation,” the tug-of-war is so tense that the song seems on the verge of tearing apart at any moment. Between the two fighters, it's always Daltrey who keeps the audience in his grip.

The electrifying start is followed by much of Quadrophenia, with the intention - in quintessential Who style - of betting everything on the finale. But right during the performance of "Won't Get Fooled Again", the unexpected happens. Keith Moon collapses on the drums and loses consciousness. The first to notice is none other than Pete Townshend, who consciously aware of Moon the loon's anarchic and rebellious nature, has established over the years a personal dialogue made of glances, with Keith fixed on Pete awaiting the slightest hint to unleash his flair.
The roadies drag Keith off the stage by force, throwing him clothed under the shower hoping something will happen, and indeed it does. The time for a "See Me Feel Me" without percussion, and Moon is back on stage for a lengthy "Magic Bus". However, he collapses again, and at this point, when it seems that the concert must end prematurely, Pete makes an appeal: "can anybody play the drums? I mean someone good".

From the back, the nineteen-year-old Scot Halpin is pushed onto the stage, the arrow about to pierce the Who through and through. 

Scott's eyes suddenly become the shot for the film’s finale. From the stage lights to the cold sweat, from Townshend's reassuring words to the bottle of brandy hidden behind the drums. His is the best viewpoint from which it has ever been possible to see the Who in action.

Pete Townshend is beside him, guiding him. He is the group’s mind and arm, he is the one orchestrating it all, firmly holding the reins. Roger Daltrey is the ultimate frontman, he is the one who draws all attention to himself, he is the one who sings a spine-chilling “Love Reign O’er Me”. Keith Moon is the man of excesses, an exceptional drummer who lives in symbiosis with Townshend and only Townshend can contain him.
And John Entwistle? The Ox is the eye of the storm, the only fixed point among the whirlpools and rotating microphones. He remains impassive with his hands on his instrument even when Moon faints. Perennially “not recovered” if he wasn’t the greatest bassist in rock history. With a still lucid Moon, he performs an “The Real Me” to heart attack levels.

Images of a “Smokestack Lightnin'” slowly morphing into “Spoonful” roll by. Howlin' Wolf’s unusual medley precedes the conclusion entrusted to a understandably subdued “Naked Eye”. 

Certainly not the best Who live, but historical, in its own way.