The Who: Blue Red and Grey

SONG Blue Red and Grey

WRITTEN BY Pete Townshend

PERFORMED BY The Who

APPEARS ON The Who By Numbers (1975), Thirty Years of Maximum R&B (1994)

Fueled by Pete Townshend's high octane power chords and ambitious operatic album structures, The Who by 1975 were the most important and most artistically successful extant rock band. The Beatles had broken up five years earlier. The Stones were lost in a creative wilderness. Southern rock, led by the Allman Brothers, had introduced a new element of virtuosity to rock, but it never tackled grand themes with the force of The Who. So, it came as somewhat of a surprise when Townshend retrenched and delivered The Who By Numbers, a brief set of personal, nearly confessional songs that left critics scratching their heads.

Today, By Numbers stands as respected part of The Who's canon. It by no means reaches the heights of Who's Next and most of its predecessors, but it's also superior to anything that came after. One of its most enduring songs is "Blue Red and Grey," a simple, life-affirming number sung by Townshend and supported by an unlikely (for The Who) ukulele and haunting, muted trumpet. The rest of the band -- and, indeed, Townsend's electric guitar -- sits out while Pete sings this simple paean to love and how it can infuse every second of life with delight. There's no other Who song quite like "Blue Red and Grey," and I suppose that it's arguably a Pete Townsend solo tune inserted into a Who album.

And yet. Pete had already embarked on his solo career. Who Came First was three years old, and the brilliant Rough Mix was two-years imminent. There were other outlets for the song, so I prefer to think that he wanted it on a Who album for a reason. Maybe he wanted his listeners to look past the usual Townshend themes of angst, anger, and the fraught relationship between star and audience. Maybe he wanted to remind us of the simpler joys of living in a context that guaranteed a larger listenership than a solo album. Or maybe "Blue Red and Grey" is a simple leavening of the confessional tone that dominates so much of By Numbers. No matter, it's a terrific and sensitive song, an anomaly in The Who catalogue, perhaps, but also perhaps all the more likable for that.

LYRICS

Some people seem so obsessed with the morning

Get up early just to watch the sun rise

Some people like it more when there's fire in the sky

Worship the sun when it's high

Some people go for those sultry evenings

Sipping cocktails in the blue, red and grey

But I like every minute of the day

I like every second, so long as you are on my mind

Every moment has its special charm

It's all right when you're around, rain or shine

I know a crowd who only live after midnight

Their faces always seem so pale

And then there's friends of mine who must have sunlight

They say a suntan never fails

I know a man who works the night shift

He's lucky to get a job and some pay

And I like every minute of the day

I dig every second

I can laugh in the snow and rain

I get a buzz from being cold and wet

The pleasure seems to balance out the pain

And so you see that I'm completely crazy

I even shun the south of France

The people on the hill, they say I'm lazy

But when they sing, I sleep and dance

Some people have to have the sultry evenings

Cocktails in the blue, red and grey

But I like every minute of the day

I like every minute of the day

Here are four renditions of "Blue Red and Grey," beginning with the original album version and followed by solo performances from Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey, then closed out by Eddie Vedder's cover. Note that all three live performers use a ukulele. I guess when you strike a perfect note, people are reluctant to change it.

The Who: Susbstitute

SONG Substitute

WRITTEN BY Pete Townshend

PERFORMED BY The Who

APPEARS ON Live At Leeds (1970), Meaty Beaty Big And Bouncy (1971), 30 Years Of Maximum R&B (1994), The Ultimate Collection (2002), many others

NOTE "Substitute" is an essential Who song. No Who anthology is complete without it.


"Substitute," The Who's sardonic look at a relationship plagued by inflated expectations, stands as one of their finest early songs. For years the traditional concert opener (until supplanted by "I Can't Explain"), "Substitute" remains in their repertoire today and rarely fails to get a crowd on its feet. I saw them perform a brilliant rendition of it as recently as 2002, shortly after John Entwhistle's death. Roger Daltry blustered and bawled out the words while Pete Townshend prowled the stage, windmilled with abandon, and sang harmony as well as ever. (He must have been feeling especially on that night, as he even smashed his guitar at the end of the show.)

The first two words of the song -- "You think" -- signal that that the singer has a different notion of the the way things are than the person he sings to, even though "we look pretty good together." To begin with, he's shorter than she is ("I look pretty tall but my heels are high"). Moreover, he resents the way she has imposed a fantasy ("The simple things you see are all complicated") on a man who is not only short, he's older ("I'm just backdated") and wears a cheap suit ("My fine looking suit is really made out sack"). In other words, he can't possibly live up to the image she has of him.

Born on the wrong side of the tracks ("he north side of my town faced east and the east was facing south") and in modest circumstances (" a plastic spoon in my mouth"), it is perhaps these humble beginnings that give him the power to see things as they are ("I can see right through your plastic mac"). The problem is that whenever he tries to be open about himself, the "crocodile tears" flow because she's happier substituting "lies for fact." Although they have a "genuine problem," she prefers to "just pass it by": Paradoxically, she puts the relationship at risk by refusing to take a risk and admit to the problem.

Anyone who has been in a relationship in which the other person expects them conform to an ideal rather than be themselves can identify with "Substitute." The person held up as an ideal, ironically, gets little out of the relationship because whatever is given is given to someone who doesn't exist. Hence the sarcastic final verse, in which the singer confides that he'd rather be with his mother:

Substitute you for my mum
At least I'll get my washing done

Pete Townshend would write many more songs exploring the natures of perception, fantasy, and reality, especially as they had to do with rock stardom and fans. In this context, one might view the two lovers in "Substitute" as stand-ins for a rock star and a fan, with the fan mistaking the trappings of stardom for reality. Townshend, a fan himself as well as a star, ultimately held The Who's supporters with great affection even as he warned them of the personal dangers of attaching too much credence to the pronouncements rock stars. He would rarely write of this with more wit or greater insight than in "Substitute."

-Citizen K.

LYRICS
You think we look pretty good together
You think my shoes are made of leather

But I'm a substitute for another guy
I look pretty tall but my heels are high
The simple things you see are all complicated
I look pretty young, but I'm just backdated, yeah

Substitute your lies for fact
I can see right through your plastic mac
I look all white, but my dad was black
My fine looking suit is really made out of sack

I was born with a plastic spoon in my mouth
The north side of my town faced east and the east was facing south

And now you dare to look me in the eye
Those crocodile tears are what you cry
It's a genuine problem and you won't try
To work it all out you just pass it by pass it by

Substitute me for him
Substitute my coke for gin
Substitute you for my mum
At least I'll get my washing done

These performances of "Substitute" across 31 years (1966-2007) show how The Who changed their look and developed their act. From 1966:




1967, at the Monterey Pop Festival. What a difference a year makes.




1970, at Leeds. Daltry's curls and fringes and Pete's jump suit appear and The Who become rock icons.




1974. The harmony vocals are especially strong:




1979. A nice solo by Pete and some great windmills:




1982:




2000. John Entwhistle's last tour. Drummer Zak Starkey (Ringo's son) is often credited with reenergizing The Who's live act. Don't miss Pete's monologue at the end:




2007. They can still bring it: