Weekend Open Thread – Remembering Thunderfingers

I once worked with a guy who’d played part-time in a band. His contention – and I’ve heard the same from multiple other sources – was that a rock-n-roll band’s rhythm section (bass/drums) were the true heart and soul of the band. If they were solid, the band would rock; if not, not so much.

IMO there’s a lot of truth in that statement. Both of those instruments (bass and drums) seem to connect at a different level, and in a different way, than the other mainstays of a modern band (guitar, keyboards). I think they influence the emotions more directly – and there’s no doubt that they indeed generally form the bedrock on which the rest of the band builds its musical product.

That said, there are exceptions to every rule. And that brings me to the subject of today’s article.

Yeah, what follows is yet another musical “walkabout”. You still have time to quit reading; continue at your own peril. (smile)

. . .

The bassist in a typical rock-n-roll band doesn’t generally lead. Instead, he/she provides (along with the drummer) a rhythmic foundation. The bassist in particular usually follows or compliments the song’s melody (or basic guitar riff, which is often different than the vocal melody), leaving excursions and departures for the vocalists, keyboardists, and/or guitarists. Yes, both the drummer and bassist do get a chance to add their flourishes on occasion. But in general, they provide the underpinnings on which vocalists, guitarists, and keyboardists build.

IMO, they’re underappreciated. But such is life.

Still, the great ones know when to follow convention – and when to ignore it. And one of the greatest in my lifetime at ignoring convention was the late John Entwistle. Ditto his band, The Who.

. . .

Entwistle was the only member of The Who with formal musical training. He first studied the piano as a child (which he didn’t much like). He later changed to the trumpet. But when he started playing in bands, he found that his trumpet was getting buried by amplified instruments – so he changed to the guitar.

Entwistle grew to be a large youth (and later a large man). His fingers were also large – and he liked the lower tones, á la Duane Eddy. So he decided to play the bass guitar instead of a standard guitar.

His size (and stamina) gave him one of his two nicknames. After joining the band that later became The Who, his bandmates found he could do more – and continue longer – than most people. So the nickname “Ox” seemed to fit, and became his.

His other nickname? It’s contained in the title of this article. If you’ve ever listened to his work, the nickname is self-explanatory.

Here are four cuts that demonstrate his exceptional talent. The first is from The Who’s early days; the other three are from their heyday.

The first is “My Generation”. It actually features Entwistle playing a dedicated bass solo – and quite a good one at that, IMO.

The second and third demonstrate precisely why his 2nd nickname “Thunderfingers” is apropos. Both also show that Entwistle could indeed bass play conventionally when required.

Finally, what I consider Entwistle’s absolute masterpiece. If you’ve never done it, put on some good headphones, raise the volume a bit, and listen very closely to Entwistle’s bass on the track that follows (“Won’t Get Fooled Again”). I think you’ll find it worth the time.

From approximately 0’45” to around 6’50”, Entwistle plays what IMO amounts to a trio of modified, constrained solos – with two brief periods (the first two choruses) being the only time where he plays anything approaching a conventional bass line. I swear, I don’t think there are more than a couple of bars in the rest of that 6 minute segment that are exactly the same – and if there are, I think those may be coincidence vice design. And by constraining his excursions while playing, Entwistle manages to make what is effectively a trio of solos fit as the song’s bass track.

Remarkable. Absolutely remarkable.

Entwistle is generally regarded as one of the best bassists in rock-n-roll history. I’ve certainly got no problem with that characterization.

. . .

Entwistle’s personality fit well with his bandmates. Publicly, he was “the quiet one” – but this was a bit of an act. In private, he was reputedly as much of an “out there” hell-raiser (albeit doing so behind the scenes vice in public) as Keith Moon, one of the rock era’s notorious early wild men. While he took his music seriously, he also liked to have a “jolly good time” as well. He also had a somewhat macabre sense of humor.

Per Wikipedia, Entwistle died at age 57 in a Vegas hotel room of a heart attack sometime early on June 27, 2002 – just before The Who were to start their 2002 US tour. The person who discovered his demise was reputedly a stripper with whom he’d spent the previous night. Cocaine was also reputedly involved.

Sex and drugs and rock-n-roll? Yeah, sure looks like it – all the way to the end.

Some would call the circumstances Entwistle’s demise tragic; others, in character and fitting. Decide for yourself which – or if it’s perhaps both simultaneously.

RIP, Ox. We hardly knew ye. Thanks for the memories – and the music.

. . .

OK, so much for today’s musical walkabout; “that’s my story and I’m sticking to it”. (smile) Enjoy the WOT, everyone – and the weekend.

Category: Open thread, Pointless blather, Who knows