“It was like magic”: Jeff Lynne recalled the loudest band he ever saw live
Jeff Lynne has always seemed like the kind of visionary who experiences music differently than most. Aside from leading an era-defining outfit as monumental as Electric Light Orchestra and being an integral part of one of the greatest supergroups in history, Lynne understands the viscera of good music, and the power of a piece that gets under your skin for the rest of time.
Most claim Lynne’s influence to have spawned directly from The Beatles, which, despite the persistent comparisons when it comes to ELO, doesn’t exactly give credence to the full picture. Lynne no doubt shaped the next chapter for the post-Beatles music scene, utilising many of their tropes to generate a new flavour of appeal among the next generation, but he also concocted a mix of everything he had ever known and loved.
For instance, absorbing all the greats who defined the 1960s and 1970s, Lynne became the ultimate protégé, utilising his natural affinity for soaking up the magic of music in all its forms and genres. The Beatles might have taught him valuable lessons in structure, melody, and storytelling technique, but others taught him the power of inexplicable allure, which is what he learned the first time he watched The Who.
To someone like Lynne, Pete Townshend represented a more primal, spiritual frontman who delivered the perfect balance between proficiency and je ne said quoi. In music, and the rock world especially, possessing the type of endearment that defies easy description is one of the most difficult things to master, but The Who had it all—complete with a heady dose of the X factor.
“You can’t hear fuck all for the next ten minutes until your hearing starts coming back!”
jeff lynne
At the same time, they mastered the art of volume, which, for a young Lynne, felt like the most exciting thing in the world. “It was like magic, the sound,” the musician recalled to The Quietus. “And just watching Pete Townshend, he was always amazing.” Noting their live appeal, he added: “The loudest bloody thing I’ve ever heard in my life! I went to this place called Midnight City in Birmingham, and it was quite a big room, and everyone was waiting for them.”
Continuing: “They struck up and went BLAAANG! and your earholes would go WOOOOM! and you couldn’t hear a fucking thing! Your hearing was gone! You know when your ears go inside out? And it’s like silence, and you can’t hear fuck all for the next ten minutes until your hearing starts coming back! And gradually, you could start hearing them again. It was like a compressor, almost. It was really exciting to hear that when you’re a kid. And the tunes they played were so great. It was beautiful. Fantastic!”
Lynne would later test the waters with live sound, using intricate notes and nuanced melodies to demonstrate the appeal of sound dynamics that oscillated between hard and soft, loud and quiet. Although he would rarely up the ante to reach The Who’s level, this seminal experience no doubt taught him how to blend inexplicable allure with sound sophistication, allowing him to guide the next explosion of rock music.
And even as a part of The Traveling Wilburys, Lynne could bring to the table something the others didn’t always immediately have: in-the-moment intuition. Spontaneity is a huge aspect of any rock act, particularly in the studio among other heroes, and with groups like The Who shaping his young and inspired mind, it’s clear why he became so efficient and knowledgeable in his own perfectly curated spaces.
