Friday, September 8th, 1967

I once had the impression that the world was a seething mass of confusion and misinformation strung together by telephone wires. Now I have here viable proof of my theory: a long distance phone interview with Roger Daltry, the lead singer of “The Who,” all the way from Columbus Ohio, where they were one fighting it with the Blue Magoos and that rock crushing, pile-driver of the moppet set, Herman and his cuddly Hermits.

You haven’t lived until you’ve tried to track down a British rick group called the Who, “who? the operator kept saying, “yes, that what I said, The Who,” “who?……” in our great American Midwest. I never quite realized the power in being adorable coupled with blistering mediocrity until it became apparent that all the operators and hotel clerks had heard of Herman, but not the Who.

I understand in England, where quality still has some coin, it’s the other way around. But it is here that I talked to them, no in England. And it’s here, in the Anaheim Convention Center on Sept. 8 The Who are going to play, not in England.

And what all those pre-pubescent tennis will have to see before Cuddles comes out is a rock group unlike any other, before or since. They will perform many songs, one about a live delirium tremens, another about a spider, and another, a vicious satire on unrequited teeny love.

They they will do, time and tittering audience permitting, their “mini-opera” with its many different voicing, and different time signatures; an amalgam of Gilbert and Sullivan, black Christmas carols, and Reddy Kilowatt. Then Daltry, sort of an electric Hamlet, will saile and mumble something about, “this is what you’ve all been waiting for…” and they will probably go into “My Generation,” and then the world inside the Anaheim Convention Center will come to Armageddon and will end. Right before your very eyes.

You and I, feasting on the calamity, our very mouths agape, will bear dumb witness to one of the most spectacular sights of our confused, jaded, McLuen-esque lives. Very silly, you just won’t believe it.

If I were an agent, I wouldn’t book Jesus Christ doing a guest set with the Beatles to come on after The Who, but somehow Herman and his Hermits will. They comparison alone should be worth the price of admission.

FP: Have you enjoyed the tour?

RD: Being over here has been a real shot in the arm, as it were; a new lease on life. In England, we’re one of the biggest pop groups around, but over here we’re nothing and we know this. I mean we’re on our own and it’s like starting again. While we still feel revived, I want to go back to England and keep it going. This tour’s done us a lot of good as a group. We get a bit blasé over in England, fame being what it is, but here we’ve really had to work. When you play with Herman in the U.S., it’s his audience and you really have to put out to get them.

FP: Do you notice a division in the crowd? Is it two different audiences for you and Herman?

RD: Most of our fans leave when we’r through and Herman comes on. Herman’s really a great guy, though. He doesn’t sing what he wants to sing but the little kids take the music to heart. The kids have been great, even the pre-tinny boppers…they’ve tried to understand us. We even do our mini-operas for them and it’s going down well. We’ve been smashing up the guitars quite a lot…it’s what the kids want to see.

FP: How do they react?

RD: There’s about a five minute shock period and they don’t know what to do…just sit there with their mouths open. Then, when we’re back in the dressing room, they want us back on. It’s like a delayed action bomb.

FB: How does it strike you, having a younger audience here than in England?

RD: The teens and the pre-teeniest have got to go somewhere and it’s obvious they can’t understand the level of music that the Beatles are playing now. I mean that’s sophisticated and ridiculously brilliant. But Herman isn’t a hack or anything like that. He knows his crowd which is great. He doesn’t hide the fact that he plays for the little kids, y’know. The little six year olds have got to start somewhere, don’t they? Herman hasn’t drawn fantastic crowds and I think this will be his last big tour. He’s made a lot of money and he can start doing the things he wants to do. But he just doesn’t pull the same fans every year. Like when a kid gets to be 15, he doesn’t want to know Herman anymore. It’s like the first chapter of Pop and then they graduate.

FP: Are you driving towards more theatrical concept pieces?

RD: We want to get more theatrical. There are so many groups bringing in outside gimmicks, y’know, but we want o bring a total theatrical cocnept to the music.

FP: Can you elaborate on that just a bit? Are you afraid of the “no commercial potential” that plagues so many innovators?

RD: No. We have some really new, I think, ideas and we plan to take them just as far as people will buy them, and maybe further. Mainly our thing on records comes from working on stage for so long together. We’ll do more of the longer pieces definitely. I’m sorry that I can’t say many of the other things…part of it will be the surprise. But if it works, it will be hot. It should be, all things going right, an act to end all acts.

FP: Why doesn’t the Who experiment with electronics more?

RD: We’ve been together almost four years and we went through the electronic bag about three years or so ago, playing feedback and all that. It’s hard to go back, hmmm?