What's Left of the Who
Rick Brown

August 28, 2002
Polaris Amphitheater

I try to avoid using the word "hate". It's overused…especially by younger people and politicians. But I HATE Polaris Amphitheater. From the $8 parking to the $5.75 beers. From the spoil sport "no tailgating" rules to the pile of dirt with sod on it that's supposed to be lawn seating. Then there's the yearly noise battle with the neighbors and the 11pm curfew. Oh yeah, and the hour and 15 minute wait to get out of the parking lot. I despise this venue. Oh sure I've seen some good concerts here. But never a great one. At least not until this evening.

I've seen the Who several times…albeit all after the untimely yet predictable death of Keith Moon. I was at the tragic show in Cincinnati where people were trampled to death. They've always been good. But Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey seemed hell bent on proving that although they are now just two, they are still the Who. Sure, they weren't touring to promote a new release. Every song they played was at least 15 years old. And with the death of John Entwistle in June, Pete and Roger have lost their entire rhythm section, arguably the best in the history of rock music. Yet it would be a grave sin to label these guys a nostalgia act. The Who's real estate looms very, very large in the landscape of rock and roll. Very large indeed.

The band had excellent support from Zak Starkey (Ringo's son) on drums (who's musicianship comes close to rivaling Moon's), session bassist Pino Palladino (who's playing is not in the least like Entwistle's), John Bundrick on keyboards, and Simon Townshend (Pete's brother) on guitar and backing vocals. The additional musicians not only supplied more power but also gave Pete…who is known more as strong rhythm/reluctant lead guitar player than soloist…the freedom to expand his licks dramatically. The sound this group put out was incredible.

The set list was like a history lesson of the band. Beginning with "I Can't Explain" they roared through most of their body of work with a vengeance. Both Townshend and Daltrey are in their late 50's…as was most of the audience…but one wouldn't know it from watching them. Pete cranked out his windmill strumming, jumping through the night's air with the same precision his playing embodied. Daltrey's voice and microphone whipping antics were more than up to his past standards. I'm sure glad they didn't die before they got old…well at least these two didn't. The band rumbled through "Substitute", "Anyway Anyhow Anywhere", and "Who Are You" then surprised us with "Another Tricky Day". Back to "Bargain" to the spine chilling "Baba O'Riley". And the evening became a blissful blur of Who music. "Love Reign O'er Me", "Eminence Front", "My Generation" all made me feel like a kid again. I'm going to sound more like a fan here than a critic. But it's not very often I get a shit eatin' grin on my face and a chill up my spine. Everyone…including those all the way in the back of the "lawn area"…was on their feet the entire performance. It was one of those special shows where everyone is there together as one. I know…an old 60's hippie cliché but goddamnit we're OLD 60's HIPPIES!!! And come together we did.

They closed with "Won't Get Fooled Again (of course) and before the encore a tribute to Keith Moon and John Entwistle was shown on the video screens. Then the Who returned to play about 1/3 of Tommy beginning with "Pinball Wizard" and finishing with "See Me Feel Me/Listening to You". And as Roger and Pete waved to an adoring crowd arm in arm I sensed tranquility between these two I had never before noticed. Whether it was the realization that this may very well indeed be the band's swansong and both were saying "thanks and goodbye", or perhaps they merely felt satisfied with the performance. I don't know. But I do know that even without their lost band mates I had just seen the best Who concert for me. Hell…it was one of the best shows ever for me…in this place I despise. I didn't even mind the hour sitting in the parking lot afterward. What's left of the Who are still the Who…at least on this magical night they were. And this tour I believe IS a Who tour. Yet maybe after the road trip ends…for their sake and our's…and for posterity…(what's left of) the Who…should let it be.

Set List

I Can't Explain
Substitute
Anyway Anyhow Anywhere
Who Are You
Another Tricky Day
Bargain
Baba O'Riley
Sea and Sand
5:15
Love Reign O'er Me
Eminence Front
Behind Blue Eyes
The Kids Are Alright
My Generation
Won't Get Fooled Again
Pinball Wizard
Amazing Journey
Sparks
See Me Feel Me/Listening To You

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Click Here

Philip Baker
A short story by Cory Tressler

Casey Sanchez is the kind of guy that all the ladies, and some guys, want to fuck. He is a muscular six foot two inches tall with long flowing blond hair that bounces and vibrates every time he does his signature hip shake. Some journalists describe his face as the idea of perfection, dramatic cheekbones accented with perfect blue eyes and puffy, full pouty lips. There are rumors floating around about how he has slept with almost every famous movie actress on the planet and there are even more rumors about his infatuation with young pubescent boys. His performances as the lead singer and guitarist for The Blues Cats have become legendary. He will do anything to sell an album or ticket. But the eccentric Casey Sanchez has not always been the superstar he is today, in fact Casey Sanchez hasn't always been Casey Sanchez at all.
Continued..

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It has come to my attention…thanks to Peter Noone (a.k.a. Herman of Herman's Hermits) that I listed members of his band incorrectly in the previous issue. I send my apologies to Mr. Noone and his fans. In the future I will not make the mistake of assuming a web site is the "official" site merely because it states the claim. Peter and his band gave a wonderful and entertaining performance and I regret if my error in any way diminished that message in my review. I know I speak for all of us at Naked Sunfish that we will be more cognizant of our sources as much as possible.

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(Note: The following is a letter I wrote to Senators Diane Feinstein and Barbara Boxer in the wake of a recent raid by the DEA on a medical marijuana cooperative in the bay area. For the neccesary background, a good account from a local paper can be read at:
http://www.bayarea.com/mld/mercurynews/news/local/4015297.htm )

Dear Senators,

It has been a very long time since I have felt as deeply ashamed of theactions of our government as I do right now. Yesterday the DEA raidedthe Wo/Men's Alliance for Medical Marijuana in Santa Cruz and arrestedits brave co-founders Valerie and Mike Corral. The two were releasedand charges have yet to be filed, but the damage has been done. The collective's supply of medicine has been destroyed, and its
members--patients with AIDS, cancer and/or other diseases--will be
forced to choose between suffering terrible pain or the humiliation of
seeking illegal cannabis on the black market, getting God knows what
instead of the safe, medically sound variety grown by WAMM.
Continued PotLuck...

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By Cory Tressler

For years now rock critics have been proclaiming the greatness of the Beatles album "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band". Whenever Rolling Stone, Spin, VH-1, MTV, or whomever put out their annual lists of the top 100 or top 50 rock 'n' roll albums of all time it is usually guaranteed that "Sgt. Pepper" will be in the number one spot. To me this consistent praise seems crazy considering "Sgt. Pepper" isn't even the Beatles best album. In fact, "Sgt. Pepper" isn't even the best Beatles album released in 1967.

When "Sgt. Pepper" was released in June of 1967 it was the greatest rock 'n' roll album. "Sgt. Pepper" was moving rock 'n' roll into an exciting and creative direction, but the thing that most rock critics miss when they compile there lists of greatest albums is that rock 'n' roll didn't stop expanding after the 'summer of love'. "Sgt. Pepper" added fuel to rock 'n' roll's growing fire, which caused the major creative forces in rock 'n' roll to expand musically, and even the Beatles achieved a higher level of creativity on their very next release, "Magical Mystery Tour".
Continued Reviews...

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Rick Brown
August 16, 2002
The Thirsty Ear Tavern
Columbus, Ohio

Michelle Willson is far from evil…even if she does go by the moniker "Evil Gal". The nickname comes from the tune "Evil Gal Blues" which is just one example of her extraordinary vocal prowess. And from the set I witnessed this evening EVERY song was a testament to her talent.

Sitting with my two primary proof -readers…and good friends, Yvonne and Becky, the Evil Gal Orchestra began warming the crowd up while the Evil Gal danced at the back of the room. Soon enough she bounded up on stage wearing a devilishly formal black outfit and white cowboy hat. Ms. Willson tore into "I Would Rather Do Without It" from her 1999 release "Tryin' To Make a Little Love". It quickly became obvious that we were seeing something very special…so special that I began thinking of our table as the "Axis of Evil Gal Fans". After the opening number the small but enthusiastic crowd went wild…albeit in a kind of strange way. There was a subtle strangeness to the revelers that I still can't put my finger on.
Continued Reviews...

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Let There Be Light?

Tyrannosaurus-Rix

Rick Brown

It all began back in college. Some friend of mine was taking one of those "cultural studies" type courses and one day they ate insects…chocolate covered insects. What culture eats bugs dipped in chocolate I can't recall? But I DO remember being offered a chance to try the snack. So, I did. Popped that baby into my mouth like it was a Frito or something. Then the visual image in my mind made me wish perhaps I hadn't. My mind's eye conjured up big, white teeth with a little insect being crushed and gnawed and gnashed. Legs were flopping around frantically between giant molars. Antennae were reaching out from spaces where only floss would dare go. Somehow I managed to swallow. No insect has passed my lips since…at least not intentionally.

After this bug murder image had passed yet another thought took hold of my brain. I started thinking about all those incredibly bad monster movies of my youth. You know the ones. The 1950's sci fi thrillers with the stop action dinosaurs that attack cities without mercy, destroying everything in it's path and gobbling up any poor sap who got in the way. I pictured…quite vividly …a tyrannosaurus rex…the one meat eating dino with the huge ferocious teeth and little baby doll front legs that seemed almost useless. Invariably T-rex would always pick somebody up in their mouth…little baby arms wagging frantically and uselessly…while tilting his head from side to side like a dinosaur comic doing an impression of Stevie Wonder. The monster would clumsily chomp and chomp on a screaming guy's body while he wildly flailed his arms and legs in desperation. T-Rex would be growling ferociously, "GRRR…RAAAA…ROARRR!!!" And the poor terrified victim dangling between the monster's jaws would be shouting, "AAAHHH!!! Let me down! (Like T-Rexes speak English right?) AAAAAHHHHH!! NOOO! AAAAAAAHHHHHH! Except now I was the T-Rex…er…T-Rix and the poor little insect was the screaming dinner in MY giant teeth. "GRRRR!!! RAAAA!!! ROARRR!!" I heard myself snarling as I tilted my head back and forth…back and forth. "AAHH!! NO!! AAAAHHH!" the poor little bug was shouting.

Being somewhat of a vegetarian (I eat fish) this dreamlike vision rarely comes to me. Until I order fried calamari or something like that. Hey…I only eat calamari 4 or 5 times a year maybe. And there are always a few that are small…and still look like…well…what they used to be. And I always return to the same flashback. My little arms begin clawing at the air. My head tilts backward and rocks from side to side while I chomp down on the defenseless calamari. "GGGRRRRRR!! RAAAAAAA!!! ROARRR!!" I hear myself shouting over the fried calamari's objections. "AAAHHHH!! NOO!!! AAAHHH!!!" OH MY GAWD!!! Tyrannosaurus-Rix is annihilating the restaurant and he's eating all the fried calamari that gets in his way!!!! "GRRRR! RRAA! ROARRR!!!!!" "AAAHHHHHHH!!! NOOO!! AAAHHHHHHHH" Little fried calamari legs are flailing about while dangling high in the air between my choppers "AAAHHH!!! NOOO!!! AHHHHHHHHH!!!!"

So last night I grilled some soft shell crabs. Once a year I get a hankering for these sea urchins. Eating soft shell crabs takes me back to my boyhood…visiting my Aunt Edith and Uncle Wes ("For Chrissakes Edith SHUT UP!!!") when they lived in Baltimore. Or I harken back to family vacations at Myrtle Beach. When I went to take my first bite of soft shell crab sandwich I immediately flashed back AGAIN!!!! My arms shrunk to less than half their size and began waving furiously in the air. I tilted my head back and rocked it from side to side. "GGGRRR!!!1 RRRAAAAAAAA!!! ROARRR!!!" And the poor soft shell crab…legs and pincers manically flailing about…dangling out of my monster mouth screamed "AAAAAAHHHH!!!! NOOOOOOO!!! AAHHHH!!

Maybe I should consider becoming a vegan. But what would the fun be in that? After all…my alter ego…my Mr. Hyde…my Tyrannosaurus Rix…T-Rix is under control isn't he? "GGRRR!! RRAA!!! ROARRR!!! Perhaps not. I'm coming to a restaurant near you!