Why Pete Townshend could only see ‘Quadrophenia’ as a failure
One of the prevailing issues with creating a masterpiece of any kind is that it only amasses that legendary reputation with the benefit of hindsight.
Van Gogh, for instance, wasn’t recognised for his artistic genius until after his death, Nick Drake died a virtual unknown, and even Pete Townshend’s ultimate masterpiece, Quadrophenia, took a few years to be truly appreciated by the masses.
By the time that The Who arrived at the gates of Quadrophenia back in 1973, the band had already subverted expectations of themselves on multiple occasions. Having burst onto the swinging streets of London during the mid-1960s, peddling an endlessly energetic brand of mod rock rebellion, Townshend’s songwriting typified the attitudes of Britain’s post-war youth, but he also had the foresight to realise that youth is always fleeting. So, rather than sticking rigidly to anthemic tracks like ‘My Generation’, the songwriter quickly expanded The Who’s repertoire.
All of a sudden, the band’s discography was as noted for pop art masterpieces like The Who Sell Out and profound rock operas like Tommy as for their early rock and roll energy. In many ways, then, Quadrophenia was the next logical step, continuing the band’s rock opera exploration while simultaneously tying things back to their subcultural roots in the previous decade. Still, the album presented a far more personal, vulnerable side to Townshend’s writing than any previous record.
After all, that 1973 album is largely autobiographical, focused around Townshend’s younger years and coming-of-age reckoning with the world. While that sense of truth within the album culminated in some of Townshend’s most profound, masterful songwriting efforts, though, it also marked a stark departure from the fast and loud approach of The Who up to that point, and certain audiences weren’t keen on the record as a result.
On the face of it, Quadrophenia was a massive success for The Who, reaching number two in the UK albums charts and receiving generally favourable reviews from critics, but it wasn’t quite accepted into the mainstream consciousness to the same degree as the band’s previous work.
According to longtime Who biographer Richard Barners, per Classic Rock, that led to a sense of Quadrophenia being, in a sense, a failure: “I think Pete’s at his happiest when he’s in his bunker with his tape recorder and his synthesiser, writing. That’s how I feel about Quadrophenia; it’s Pete playing with his toys,” he explained.
“It’s like a solo Townshend project,” Barnes continued. “Quadrophenia works because it’s just a wonderful piece of art, the power of the music is immense. But in many ways Quadrophenia was a failure. It was a critical success and it sold a lot, but it was one of those albums that was worthy. Everyone had it in their collection, but didn’t play it much.”
Certainly, if you compare the tracklisting of that 1973 record to the band’s other efforts, it didn’t provide much in the way of memorable singles – there is no ‘Who Are You’, ‘Won’t Get Fooled Again’, or even ‘My Generation’ power to be heard. Nevertheless, Quadrophenia was so much more than a Townshend solo album, offering an entirely different perspective on the individual skills of each band member. For instance, the record features some of Keith Moon’s all-time greatest drumming moments.
Even if Barnes is correct in his view that Quadrophenia was a failure as far as ordinary listeners were concerned, that doesn’t detract from the album’s masterpiece reputation. It was a revolutionary LP for a multitude of reasons, and Townshend’s autobiographical exploration remains one of the greatest coming-of-age tales in musical history. What’s more, it totally eclipses any of the guitarist’s solo work.
