September 17th – Of all the people you’d not want to have
working with you in a situation that required even a modicum of care or
sensibility, Keith Moon would be very near to top of my list. But if I were a
drug dealer, knowing his consumption record, I’d ‘ave been very glad to have
him on my client list. There’s a new yacht each year in his Quaalude ingestion
alone and I’d reckon the profit lines of various alcohol suppliers took a dip
the week after he died. In the trade I work in for instance, theatre, (that’s
as in Act One – Curtain Up you
understand not as in Nurse, keep an eye
on anything that flips out while I’m slicing and mark where it falls as we may
need to stuff it back in later) we would always check the check of the
checker before double checking…and then ask someone else to check just to make
sure.
As a drummer, I think he lacked certain basic skills, Mr. Moon, and had occasional
timing issues, but as a drummer for The
Who I can think of no one who could’ve taken his place, no one; and despite
various incarnations no one has even come close. He was a one off, as the Youtube footage I posted some while ago
of The Who doing their version of Young Man Blues testifies. A singular
talent of immense proportions whose drumming style was as idiosyncratic and
wild as his personal life, Mr. Moon showed the world that, like the missionary
position versus adventurous sex, 4-4 was not the only way the get rock rolling.
That he chose to develop talents outside of the drumming requirement certainly
made for entertaining reading, but the collateral damage to those around him
cannot be ignored.
That’s often the way in any relationship in which one party or the other
indulges in excess, of almost any kind, yes, but more pertinently and in the
context of this chat, in alcohol or drugs. Violence, cruelty, lies and deceit
often follow, and if there’s children involved then the equation is compounded.
Not gonna sit in judgement, I know how easy it is to slip onto the dark side
and know what it takes to resist or cut out altogether something that is doing
you and those closest to you real and permanent damage but which you can’t do
without. And, yes, they do know what they’re doing, that’s neither reason nor
excuse; whether they can help themselves is another matter and a whole lot
different of an ask; as I’ve said many times to folk in this situation who’ve
asked for my opinion; You aren’t to
blame, but you are responsible.
As volatile a customer as Mr,
Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, I think all those around Mr. Moon struggled to either keep
up or keep level. He was seemingly, and like a lot in his position, always ‘on’,
and that’s one of the reasons why he’d not be the best guy to have with you,
say, if you were rigging explosives.
On this day in 1967, Mr. Moon decided to fill his kik-drum with a charge
to make it explode at the end of The Who’s
appearance on the Smothers Brothers Comedy
Hour which he duly did. Unfortunately the stage crew had already done the
loading and Mr. Moon didn’t ask…the resultant explosion damaged his legs,
singed Mr. Townshend’s hair and frightened the shit out of fellow guests, Bette
Davies and Mickey Rooney…NEVER trust a drummer…
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