1962 – The Detours play in Peckham at the Paradise Club. Suspected to be the first show they ever play.

“The Detours line-up now comprised Colin Dawson on lead vocals, Roger on lead guitar and trombone, John on bass guitar and trumpet, Pete on rhythm guitar, and Doug Sandom on drums. Doug’s first full engagement with The Detours was an unspecified date in July 1962 at The Paradise Club”

“After about five weeks The Paradise Club was invaded by members of a rival club in Peckham who started a fight and broke up the premises. As a result The Detours lost the booking” (“The Who Concert File”)

The date of these gigs is uncertain.

1963 – The Detours play the Oldfield Hotel in Greenford

1968 – Melody Maker features Keith in Blind Date and he talks about The Kinks, Small Faces, and Moody Blues among others

 

Transcript:

BLIND DATE

KEITH MOON

DAVE DEE, DOZY, BEAKY, MICK AND TICH: “Last Night In Soho” (Fontana).

John Entwistle bass line. Is it a Howard Blaikley song? So it must be Dave Dee. Do I get that one? I prefer this to the Hungarian Beer Chants they usually do. No sounds of tankards clashing to the background of stomping boots. Yeah, I think that’ll be a hit.

KINKS: “Days” (Pye).

Memoirs of Ray Davies. No, it’s the first time I’ve heard this. This sounds very much like a demo with Ray on acoustic guitar. I just heard a bass drum so Mick Avory must be on it as well. So it’s the Kinks. Sounds pretty dated, like one of the songs Pete keeps under his sink. I dig what the Kinks do, but I’ve never thought of them as a group.

SMALL FACES: “Universal” (Immediate).

Well that’s nice. It sounds like the Faces on a sunny day. Great. Great brass. This is a side of the Faces we saw in Australia on our tour together. That was the most enjoyable tour we have ever done.

I’m sure the Faces were laughing when they made this. I laugh when I listened anyway. It’s bound to be a smash. More strength to their elbows.

This should be a hit.

MAGISTRATES: “Here Come The Judge” (MGM).

Oh, very freaky. Yeah, it’s a good looning record. I’m liking too many of them today. Something must have gone wrong. Sock it to me again. It must be American. Dem bones, dem bones, dem DRY bones! Yeah, the end was the best bit.

I should think it’ll get airplays from groovy deejays, but it won’t be a hit here.

TONY NEWMAN: “Soul Thing” (Decca).

Is this the Wibbly Wobbly Way by the Leaping Duo-denals I’ve heard so much about? I’ve no idea who it is, but it sounds like the theme music from a bad rebel film. Could you please make it go away?

MOODY BLUES: “Voices In The Sky” (Deram).

Sounds like a Chinese Move. Wrong again. Curses. I was cheating by looking at the label, but that never gets me anywhere. It’s a nice record. Moodies? I’ll have this one at home. But they probably need something a bit more dynamic to get across again.

PETE R. THOROGOOD: “Haunted” (Pye).

Sounds like his teeth are falling out. Very Christmas carol-ish. A Mickie Most production? Alan Bown is it? It could be anyone. Is that a violin? It’s so hidden I can hardly tell. I think pop violinists have had their day. No—not a hit.

CHRIS MONTEZ: “Let’s Dance” (London).

Oh twist again! (After first bars). Is this a re-release of Chris Montez? This is like playing the slot machines in the old caf again. There must be a multi-revival on.

I used to like this, but it’s absurd. It’s like us re-releasing “Can’t Explain.” Sounds like a Kit Lambert production. I used to like the Everly Brothers and Beach Boys, but this was never more than background music in the dance hall.

The best thing with re-releases is to have different artists on each side for collectors items. All my old records are scratched away.

ALAN PRICE: “Love Story” (Decca).

I’ll have to be chained down. I don’t think I’ve ever listened to so many records all at once. This is a friendly record. No idea who it is. It’s another street musician.

I have visions of a geezer pulling a handcart full of musicians down the street, with cash registers on the side.

Who was it? Oh dear. He’s been doing some weird things. I should have known it was Alan Price. I can’t imagine anybody else I know doing that.

BOBBY GOLDSBORO: “Autumn Of My Life” (United Artists).

Is it Bobby Goldberg? I suppose he’s going through the alphabet of girl’s names. His last one was Honey and I suppose this is about Iona, or Irene.

A Family Favourites kitchen sink hit. He sounds like he’s singing to a photograph of his missus—pipe and slippers.

GERRY MARSDEN AND DEREK NIMMO: “Liverpool” (CBS).

It’s the Tradlads. I’m not listening. I’m asleep. It’s obviously a show tune. I suppose hundreds of Liver-pudlians will be dancing in the streets to this. Unfortunately I can’t really see it happening. Amazing ennit?

AMEN CORNER: “High In The Sky” (Deram).

Is it the Foundations? Not a Nothing Hill group? Yes, British I would say. The sort of thing American groups do so much better. Who is it? Nice fellows. A remote hit.

GILES, GILES AND FRIPP: “One In A Million” (Deram).

Another record? Will they never end! This is a John Sebastian type tune. There are hundreds of these songs with the same backing and slightly altered words.

The violins are in the bathroom. Good riddance to that.

1968 – Disc and Music Echo interviews John in an article called, “So I said to John Entwistle’s dog…” John discusses his performances, his songwriting and his dog Jason. He admits he “wasn’t all that keen on ‘I Can See For Miles.'”

The same day, Fabulous magazine has a short mention of Jason.

 

Transcript:

So I said to John Entwistle’s dog…

DISC’S Hugh Nolan has an interview with Jason (his pet man is Who John Entwistle) large Scottish deerhound. Mr. Entwistle has a few words to say as well.

JASON, latest addition to John and Alison Entwistle’s family, is only eight bouncing months old—but already stands at over six feet tall!

No, there hasn’t been another unheralded happy event among members of the Who. In fact Jason is a very, very large dog, of the Scottish deer hound family, whose chief pleasure in life is jumping gleefully into the middle of picnic parties and scattering them in utter confusion.

John is the bass-player and traditionally the quiet one of the Who—the Pete Townshend smashes his guitar and amplifier into several hundred pieces, while Keith Moon pounds his drum kit into the stage and Roger Daltrey crunches up mike-stands and anything else left intact.

But compare John’s enormous pet (every small boy who sees John and Jason in the street invariably asks for “a ride on your horse please mister”) with Pete’s modest Spaniel and Keith’s and Roger’s former pets, a Labrador and a Saluki respectively.

Jason strides among them all like a colossus. So, I asked John and Jason, is the truth of the matter that John is not by nature as quiet, modest and unassuming as he appears on-stage, compared to the other three members of the Who?

Jason, overjoyed at being spoken to by a complete stranger, wagged an enormous tail, leapt on my shoulders and pinned me to the floor while he licked my face with a tongue the size of a dinner-plate (the trouble is, you see, that while he LOOKS fearsome Jason is in fact completely soppy and friendly to everyone. Nice, but no good as an anti-burglar device).

Wrestled

John wrestled him off and (several minutes of chaos afterwards) replied: “I don’t usually start smashing up my equipment because we have to keep some sound going while all this destruction is going on.

“I tried it once in Los Angeles. I started to smash up my bass after all the rest of the group had finished smashing up their equipment. But it took about ten minutes to smash the thing, and all in complete silence, with just the rest of the group shouting encouragement! And the damn thing just wouldn’t break.

“Then once when we were in Sweden I was in a temper for some reason and I smashed my guitar through a speaker. It came out the other side and just stuck there—I couldn’t get it out again. Eventually it took two people to pull it out.”

Cake

By this point Alison, John’s pretty, dark-haired wife (who is most emphatically NOT a Who fan) wheeled in a large tea-trolly bearing biscuits and cherry-cake.

Jason accordingly freaked out, leaping all over the room. Eventually quietened, he subsided gratefully on the floor with a large, delicious hunk of cake—which disappeared down his vast throat in about two seconds flat.

His food consumption, said John, is about two pounds of meat and four pints of milk a day—but then he is only a puppy.

“I wanted to get a Great Dane but I’d heard they don’t get very well with other dogs. So we looked for the next biggest, which was a Scottish deer hound, and there he was.

“He’s got a first-class pedigree. Comes from excellent stock—in fact his father brought down a stag last year.

“The trouble was when we first got him I had to keep going away on tours, and every time I came back he’d doubled in size. And changed colour!”

Talking of dogs, John likes the new Who single “Dogs”—more than any of their singles for some time. “I wasn’t all that keen on ‘Call See For Miles.’ The trouble is our last few singles have taken us so long to make. We finish them and then we add little fiddley bits which take days. ‘Happy Jack,’ on the other hand, took us just half a day in the studio.”

Romps

The Entwistles have been living for almost a year in a neat little house in Ealing, just in front of a large and beautiful park where Jason goes for twice-daily romps and indulges in his favourite practice of breaking up happy family picnic parties.

“We start shouting at him when he gets near a picnic, but he usually leaps up with hands right on the tablecloth and a mighty leap,” said Alison.

Then he turns round and runs right up to us, so there can be no doubt whom he belongs to!

“But if there’s a bloke and a bird lying on the grass he won’t go near them.”

Both John and Alison have lived in the area all their lives. In fact it was at Acton County Grammar School, just up the road, that the Who first started.

“I used to play in the school orchestra—but only to get off lessons!” says John. “My father taught me to play trumpet but there were already too many trumpets in the orchestra so I took up the French horn, a very unglamorous instrument.

“Then the rock-n-roll boom started so I took up bass and formed a group with Pete Townshend and a couple of other guys. When we left school we teamed up with Roger Daltrey—he played lead and Pete played rhythm guitar.

“We were a five-piece until the Beatles came along, so we sacked our singer and became a four-piece. Roger was doing sheet metal work and had a lot of split fingers, so Pete took over on lead and Roger started singing.”

Now, five years later, John has his own private recording studio upstairs at home, where he does all his songwriting. “It’s the only way we can write—we make demos of our songs and then play them to the rest of the group.”

Writing

“I’m only just getting into writing properly—it takes a while to get into the stride. I wrote a song called ‘Mr Hyde’ which was the B-side of ‘Call Me Lightning’ in the States and should go on our next LP here, with another one of mine.

“There’ll probably be a number by Keith on the LP too. But he hasn’t done a demo yet—after all, there’s not much you can do with just drums!”

The group hopes to finish off the album in L.A. and at the same session should complete their next single, probably a track called “Magic Bus.” “We’ve got enough material but we just haven’t had time to finish it yet.”

John left for yet another tour, a large one of the States—last week, leaving Alison and Jason at home. Actually he asked Alison if she’d like to go with the group this time, but she replied:

“What—and watch you play every evening? I’d be bored to tears!”

---

John with Jason, who gets mistaken for a horse.
Pictures by PETER STUART

1969 – Pete begins producing the Thunderclap Newman album Hollywood Dream. Additional recording sessions will be held on the 7th, 8th, 15th, 16th, and 17th. At the beginning of the month, the group’s single, “Something In The Air”, will knock The Beatles out of the #1 spot in the U.K. charts

1974 – Cashbox carries a several full page ads for MCA Records, one of which features The Who

1980 – Pete is interviewed in the Los Angeles Times.

 

Transcript:

TOWNSHEND: 15 YEARS IN ROCK AND STILL ON TOP

BY JOHN MENDELSOHN

After one of the most jubilantly received series of concerts in Los Angeles rock history, the Who is among us no more. But the melodies of Pete Townshend’s “Empty Glass” solo album figure to linger on the local airwaves far into autumn. According to the trade journals, it’s one of the nation’s five biggest-selling albums. The cup of the perpetrator of “Empty Glass” runneth over then, as it hasn’t since he emerged 15 years ago as the Union Jack-wrapped, guitar-demolishing hero of London’s Mods.

A modest, generous and extremely intelligent man, Townshend, 35, evinces no interest in the traditional perks of the rock megastar. No starlets or quarterbacks presented themselves at the door of his Beverly Hills hotel suite on the afternoon preceding the Who’s third Sports Arena concert. Rather, he was visited only by a young teacher of retarded children from Costa Mesa, whom he’d met outside a post-concert party four years earlier. She’d been frantic because she thought her companions had abandoned her without a ride home and Townshend had consoled her. The two have remained friends ever since. It is this sort of person that Townshend is offstage.

As befits the most-interviewed performer in rock history, he was haunted-looking, rumpled and pallid to the verge of translucence as he sat down to talk. Years of squinting into blinding stage-lights have made his eyes—once described in these pages as “laceratingly blue”—the color of a very old denim workshirt, and his short, wispy hair resembled a derelict’s. He continued to wear the foam glove on his swollen right hand after sucker-punching a wall at the Forum three evenings before.

In all ways—save perhaps for his incongruously flamboyant blue suede brothel creeper shoes—he appeared to be a man under crushing duress. But appearances turned out to be deceiving.

QUESTION: Even though you once wrote an anti-smoking song, “Little Billy,” for the American Cancer Society, you’ve begun smoking yourself. In the liner notes of “Empty Glass” you allude to your nearly fatal fondness for cognac. And you’re bashing walls. Are you going through an especially stressful period?

ANSWER: I don’t smoke much—about 10 or 12 of these betel-nut leaf cigarettes a day. (He smoked half a dozen over the course of a 40-minute interview.) And I’ve always drunk a bit too much. It’s an English disease as much as anything else—it’s a social habit that’s acceptable because it’s useful for breaking down the old British reserve. If a group of British people gather together in a room, it’s really dull until everyone’s had a few drinks. That becomes sort of habit-forming. And I didn’t punch the wall out of stress. I did it out of exhilaration, actually. I really like where I am at the moment.

Q: What’s the worst thing about your present life?

A: I hate being booked up for the next five years, as we are in a way now since signing with Warner Bros. Although it’s great to go into a record company and get a load of money and be all set up for the next several years, you do realize that you’ve sold your freedom.

Q: Surely you couldn’t have needed the money that badly?

A: You might be surprised. Over the past couple of years, I’d started my own book-publishing company, and a co-op studio for new groups in London, and a record label, and discovered that it’s quite easy to spend a million dollars. I found it very frightening, when things got dicey, to realize that the 35 people I employed in the various projects all had homes and families of their own, and that they were all looking to me as the source of their support.

Q: You used to talk in interviews about how performing was your way of proving yourself to a world that had made you feel like a misfit as a kid. Are you still driven in that way?

A: Well, for a start, I don’t need to go up on stage anymore. Things really do get easier as you grow older—or grow up, which people in rock are very slow to do. But one-to-one relationships do become enough, and you stop feeling that you need to conquer or be accepted by the whole world. You realize that there will always be a certain number of people who think you’re a fool, just as there will always be a certain number who overrate you. You get self-respect and a certain amount of pride in the way you are, and that takes care of the “adolescent phobias” that fire you up when you’re a kid.

I’ve been doing this for more than 15 years, and I’ve consequently met a hell of a lot of people. Of all of them, I’ve remained close to perhaps 10 or 20 since the beginning. I’m still getting to know a little bit about my wife, and about Roger (Daltrey), and about John (Entwistle), for instance. Those relationships are very, very precious to me.

Q: I imagine that there could come a time when, regardless of how enormous your audience might be, or how ecstatically they’re responding to what you’re doing, being on stage would get boring, if only because it’s the same thing night in and night out.

A: No, there really is a difference, because you see different faces each night. The limit of my despair was in New York in 1973, when we played to the same audience every night for nearly a week. Now that does get boring because, for a start, they stop being ecstatic when they’ve learned the act by heart.

But we’ve been very lucky here to have had an incredible audience turnover. Half of every audience are new fans. They have to be—a year ago at this time they weren’t old enough to have been allowed to go to a concert!

I suppose it is quite easy to get bored with the rock institutions, though. Some of the things that rock fans and musicians have come to accept are amazing, like the idea of large-scale rock belonging to sports arenas and stadiums.

I read an article about Fleetwood Mac in the London Evening Standard in which Christine McVie said that when she goes out in the streets, Warner Bros. has someone following her to make sure she isn’t run over or something. Well, none of that happens to me. I’m not saying that I go around warding people off or using any particular tactic, but when people recognize me, they seem happy enough just to leave it at that. So I’m able to cruise through the over-grandiosity, the pomp of being a “rock star.” Which is good, because all that gets quite boring sometimes.

I mean, I wouldn’t have minded, after I did this to my hand, if somebody had told me, “What sort of stupid (expletive deleted) are you, punching concrete walls?” I had it coming! But instead everyone tried to act like it was a perfectly sensible thing for me to have done.

Q: How do you explain the fact that, while nearly every major British rock star has either moved here, or else spent a lot of time here avoiding taxes, you’ve been conspicuous by your absence, and continue to live in the same house you’ve had since before “Tommy”?

A: Well, for a start, I’ve never needed to go into tax exile because Kit Lambert wasn’t only a genius manager, but a genius at tax as well. He invented a lot of the tax avoidance schemes that became standard practice before the recent tax amnesty loosened things up a bit.

I suppose that Karen (Townshend’s wife) and I just don’t hot up that much for the rock social scene. The house has begun to seem a bit small, so we have been thinking of moving, but only down the road. All of our friends live in that same area (between Twickenham and Richmond, on the edge of the Thames southwest of London).

Those who’ve left have all come back again, like Ronnie Lane, who moved to Wales for a while. When you’re within walking distance of 20 friends that you could turn to in a time of real crisis, as we are, you’d be crazy to move away.

Q: You’ve always given Lambert enormous credit for his role in the Who’s success, both as co-manager and producer. Why did you split?

A: I didn’t split from him—he went mad. He put himself into the Court of Protection, which is an acknowledgement that you’re incapable of looking after your own affairs. Before he can buy or sell anything or sign any sort of contract, he has to appear before this court and convince seven judges that he’s not insane. How, even if you’re the sanest man in the world, do you go about convincing someone that you’re not mad?

Q: Was that hurtful to you?

A: Yes, and not only personally, but artistically as well. As a songwriter, I really relied on him to edit my work. He’d be very valuable to me now.

Q: You’ve been remarkably successful as far as attracting a new generation of American fans. Have you been comparably successful at home in Britain?

A: The scene there is much richer in a way. It’s faster-changing because there are more people in the record business willing to try new ideas. The Who have become passé in a way that I never imagined we would be.

Q: Can you imagine what your life would be like now if the Who had flopped and you’d given up on being a performing musician?

A: It’d be at home a lot more, which I’d really like. I could record and write—not just songs but writing as well—in my own environment, which I find the most creatively stimulating. I’ve been having this running dialogue with Roger for ages. It seems to be under the misapprehension that I write my best stuff in hotel rooms. I have written some good stuff in hotel rooms, I suppose, but not much, because when you come home from a gig you’re either flattened, or else just want to stick your head in the television.

It’s a good thing I’m not trying to make my living writing songs for other people. Most of the time, other artists find the songs I submit to them completely off-the-wall. I wrote “And I Moved” on my album Rough Mix. Better Midler, but someone in her office who got hold of the demo decided it was too smutty for her. At first I was going to insist that she be given the chance to make up her own mind, but my pride prevented that, so I just wound up keeping the song. I wrote a song for Art Garfunkel called “Brooklyn Kids,” about a rape, but only implicitly. His people seemed to quite like it but wanted me to make it a bit more wholesome. I wound up withdrawing it. And I wrote “Let My Love Open the Door” for Blondie, but (producer) Chris Thomas convinced me to save it for my own album.

Q: What did you mean when you said that you’d write “writing,” as opposed to songs?

A: Stories, for instance. I kept a detailed journal of my dreams for a few months and discovered that I don’t have the sort of dreams most people do. I’ve turned several of the images in them into stories. And I’ve done a series of erotic stories as well. Karen was shocked when she discovered them. She didn’t know I had it in me!

Getting back to your question about what I’d be doing if there were no Who, I suppose I might also be a record producer, in which case I’d probably have an even more unrhythmic life than I do now. Chris Thomas’ life is every bit as chaotic as my own. After he finished my album and the Pretenders’, which he was doing concurrently, he was a dead man.

Q: I really miss the days when the Who wore ridiculously flamboyant stage costumes, like your famous gold-sequined jacket.

A: But don’t forget that there’s something slightly ridiculous about the way the group looks at the moment. I find it very, very funny when Roger goes on stage looking like he just came in off the beach, stunning a rich bronze. It may be quite appropriate in Los Angeles, but he does the same thing in Wembley Stadium, in the pouring rain!

I was never comfortable in gold sequins anyway. I reacted to all that in the end when I began wearing the most horrible things I could find—boiler suits, with trousers legs that only came down to mid-calf. And some people think that guy in Cheap Trick is the first ridiculous-looking rock guitarist

1989 – The Who play the Robert F. Kennedy Memorial Stadium in Washington, DC

2000 – In a message on his website, Pete says that John is “visibly cheering up as the prospect recedes of going to jail for tax evasion.”

“This is a quick update from my day off. I am very tired physically and enjoying the rest and the generally generous reviews I’m reading. I’m tempted to post a few of them here just in case anyone visiting this site, and getting into this diary area, is undecided about coming to see us play. There are more shows in the NY area in October.

We played in Washington last night, and it was again an enjoyable experience. There is still quite a lot of creative space to found with this band and material. Rabbit and Zak can be especially inspiring and surprising. But the front line is surprising too sometimes. Roger has been singing powerfully, but also with a lot of new deep feeling. John is visibly cheering up as the prospect recedes of going to jail for tax evasion. He played a blinding couple of bass solos last night – literally beyond belief.

And me? Well I still can’t believe myself to be honest. About 8 years ago I had a bad wrist accident that I thought would end my decent playing forever. I thought I was consigned to a computer to write and play music. But I practiced hard, and did 18 months of physio to retrieve still-restricted movement, but that practice opened up a lot of skills to me that I’d never tapped before. I’m enjoying taking off in solos and actually having to land carefully in case I crash-land…..

It’s going well. We have Camden NJ tomorrow, always a good venue, and Jones Beach on Sunday – just about my favourite place to play anywhere. Then a Summer break with my kids until the West Coast in mid-August.

I have quite a lot of new footage to edit together for diaries, but a lot of it is concentrated on the Detroit show, so I’m trying to put together something concise, yet dense for that day.

I’ll certainly manage at least one more video diary before I leave, that will make four in all.

Pete”

2001 – “A Walk Down Abbey Road: A Tribute To The Beatles” featuring John on bass plays the Fraze Pavillion in Kettering, Ohio

2002 – The Who play The Gorge Amphitheatre in George, Washington. Pete smashes his guitar.

2004 – Filmmaker Michael Moore claims in an interview with Film Comment that Pete refused use of “Won’t Get Fooled Again” for Moore’s movie Fahrenheit 9/11 because “Word came to us that he is not a fan of Michael Moore’s and in fact supports the war and supports Tony Blair and doesn’t want the song used in any way that would make Blair look bad. Harvey [Weinstein, producer and long-time friend of Pete’s] personally made an appeal to him to reconsider. And he wouldn’t.”  In the coming days Pete would blog about this and the media would report on it

 

• • MOORE: “At the end of the film Bush says ‘Fool me once, shame on me. I won’t get fooled again.’ Clearly that moment demands that we hear Roger Daltrey scream, ‘Won’t get fooled again!’ That’s how I had it cut.
  • Pete Townsend blocked it, would not allow the song to be used. Word came to us that he is not a fan of Michael Moore’s and in fact supports the war and supports Tony Blair and doesn’t want the song used in any way that would make Blair look bad. Harvey Weinstein personally made an appeal to him to reconsider. And he wouldn’t.
  • At that point, we’re about a week away from going to Cannes. So, I remembered while I was driving in Michigan ‘Rockin’ in the Free World’ came on the radio and I thought this would be a cool song to have in the movie. So we said, ‘Let’s see how this works,’ and it worked perfectly.
  • Called up Neil Young and he said, ‘Whatever you need. Absolutely. It’s yours.’
  • Once we started playing it in the movie, we quickly forgot about The Who. In fact, after Cannes, we got a call from their manager who said they might be willing to reconsider. And I said, ‘No, uh uh. That’s bad karma. This is Neil Young’s moment.’
  • People leave the theaters, that’s what I want them hearing. In fact I don’t want them hearing a song that has the line, ‘Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.’ Because the new boss I sincerely hope won’t be the same as the old boss. I don’t want that song. It gave me a chance to have a line at the end too, cause you can’t go right into ‘Rockin’ in the Free World.’

So I get to say ‘For once I agree with Bush – we won’t get fooled again.’ “”

2004 – Rush releases the CD Feedback featuring a cover of “The Seeker.”

2005 – The Mirror reports that The Who, along with many other groups appearing at Live 8, have agreed to donate their increased profits to charity.

2006 – The Who play the Liverpool Summer Pops at Trafalgar Dock in Liverpool

2007 – The Who play the Stockholm Globe Arena in Stockholm, Sweden

2011 – Roger plays the Clyde Auditorium in Glasgow

2019 – The Who play at Wembley Stadium in London

2020 – The Who announce “Join Together @ Home”, a 6 week YouTube event benefiting Teenage Cancer Trust and Teenage Cancer America.

2023 – The Who play Sewell Group Craven Park in Hull