Herman's Hermits, the Who, and the Blues Magoos were here.

Three thousand excited teenagers and a handful of deafened adults witnessed their show Sunday afternoon at the Civic Auditorium with a mixture of puppy love, admiration, awe, and pure amazement.

The men behind the scenes saw it with a more realistic attitude: "We're late and we've gotta be in Minneapolis by 7:30 tonight."

At a little before noon a chartered jet landed unheralded and the three groups disappeared immediately from it into a chartered bus. Their city bus sped away toward the Biltmore (they thought; no one was quite sure) while thousands of dollars worth of amplifiers and instruments were loaded into a van and delivered to the Civic.

Several dozen fans, clutching Hermits albums and precious tickets, were clustered around the stage door when the van arrived and disgorged its load. Presumably they were still waiting when the three groups arrived at 2:15, closely guarded by a worried manager and possessive fans who didn't want to let them out of their sight.

The road managers and stage hands worked for an hour, setting amplifiers, recognized around the stage as each act performed. After seeing the same act daily for two months, Derek Leckenby of the Hermits said that he still gets the same excitement when the Who perform and destroy. Both the Who and the Magoos said they respect Herman (call him Pete) as a performer.

This three-way respect is a must on a tour as long and busy as this one, according to Derek. "We have been out for almost two months, and we won't finish until Sept. 9," he said.

"After this we'll be recording and working on our new movie, 'Mrs. Brown You've Got a Lovely Daughter.' This movie is completely different from anything we've done before. It'll be released around next Easter.

"Through this movie we hope to reach a wider audience. It seems that we appeal to most everyone except the 20-to-29 age group. We don't know why, and wish we did; but we recognize this as a limitation on what we can do.

"We don't think we have an image. This image stuff is in the audience's mind and has little to do with us. Our image may have changed; but that is only because people think of us differently. We are not just cute kids — we're musicians. Our music is all that counts.

"We've progressed a lot musically. There's no compar- and 'Museum.' But then, we couldn't have gotten much worse.

"We don't resent Pete's popularity. The Hermits aren't a backup group like the new Animals — we're all a unit. Pete enjoys the attention, and it takes the pressure off the rest of us and lets us concentrate more on the music.

"My favorite of all our records is the new single, 'Museum.' It was written by Donovan, and naturally our version came out sounding a little bit like him. But we did not copy his style, nor do we ever copy anyone else's. If you hear us on a record, we want you to hear us. We are basically satisfied with our music.

"Out of the current records, the Beatles' is the greatest. Anything they do is just great. No one will ever top them. But this 'Ode to Billy Joe' by Bobbie Gentry is pretty great, too."

The Magoos came off, their suits still blinking, and the Who prepared to create their special form of havoc. Keith Moon, drummer, warned Joy Nelson and the other girls that they were in great danger if they stayed where the stage manager had sent them.

"Our act includes busting up guitars and dummy amps and drumsticks and things," he said, "and splinters could hit you. See that stuff the stage hands are laying? That's asbestos. You're in great danger.

As the Who performed, everyone backstage crowded in the wings to see. Several disc jockeys agreed that this group seemed more able to recreate their recorded sound than almost any other.

Keith Moon's wild drumming style and Roger Daltrey's uninhibited vocals were declared "too much;" but the climax of the act, the destructive version of "My Generation," had everyone spellbound. As the stage literally disappeared in a cloud of carefully planned smoke, no one in the backstage group felt less than certain that the Who is one of the very best acts here and abroad, and that they will soon be even nearer the top.

During the intermission fifteen girls from the audience met Herman as winners of a KQWB promotion contest.

Both Herman and his minipublic were a little tongue-tied.

This lack of communication extended to the press as well. Peter's sole statement to The Forum was "Get off the stage."

The Hermits' act featured their biggest hits as well as several current favorites. They opened their set with a barely recognizable version of the Beatles'. "With a Little Help From My Friends," another highlight was an electrifying version of the Bee Gees' "New York Mining Disaster 1941."

Backstage, Ralph Scala Magoo stopped short in the middle of a sentence to listen to the first few bars. "That's kinda good," he said, shaking his head in amazement.

After the Hermits' set, the nameless manager hustled them off to their speedy and surrounded-by-desperate-young-girls bus to rush to Hector Airport. As the road managers were left alone to stow the leftovers, the stage became quiet, ornamented only by occasional curses about lost cords and missing cases and incredibly heavy equipment.

Suddenly the harried little manager burst through the curtain—"We're missing someone. Oh, God, where is he?"

Derek emerged from the corner where he had been encasing his guitar, was grabbed by his guardian angel, and disappeared from Fargo forever.

The three road managers stayed behind as the bus left with the stars. Finally, when all the equipment had been protected from harm and souvenir-hunting fans, the three men looked around for a very fast ride to the airport and the waiting plane.

As they climbed into the back seat of Johnny Dollar's car, Hoss, caretaker for the Magoos, sighed in relief—temporarily.

"Now we have three hours before we play again. We should set up in Minneapolis by 7:30 tonight, but we will never make it. Whoever scheduled these gigs was absolutely nuts. Maybe, maybe we'll be ready to go by 8 or 8:30. It's a losing battle."

Hoss is from California. His cohorts are Joe Taylor of New York for the Who and Norman Taylor (no relation) of England for the Hermits. All were highly prejudiced and willing to talk about the groups for whom they book reservations, handle equipment, and play nursemaid.

They agreed that fan magazines have given a highly inaccurate impression of their groups. Hoss used an impolite word to describe some of the rumors which the fan mags have spread.

"For example, some fan mags insist that the guys don't read music. That's all wrong. All of them read music well. They record from full score sheets (fully notated music played note-for-note); how else could they create decent music? A good sound isn't an accident."

The managers also agreed that this has been an unusually congenial tour. Joe Taylor said, "Usually in about two days all the guys have drawn back and then they stick to themselves. This time everybody is mixing and being friends and generally getting along great. That helps a lot."

How was their Fargo date?

The groups were all rather disappointed. First, the concert was far from a sell-out. Before the show almost everyone took a peek at the audience and screamed, "Oh, man, look at all those empty holes!"

None of the groups received the reception for which they had hoped. The audience was almost indifferent to the Magoos, and Herman reportedly was very unhappy about the response he got. "They didn't do anything," he moaned.

The Who were the only ones who got a really healthy reaction, and they could hardly miss with their act.

Perhaps the biggest thing that upset the groups was the very close and rough schedule; they had plenty to worry about, even without the audience.

Will the Who, the Blues Magoos, and Herman's Hermits be in Fargo again? If you saw them, cherish the memory. You may not get another chance.