Roger Daltrey at the Nokia Theatre, NYC, Nov. 20, 2009

ROGER DALTREY AT THE NOKIA THEATRE, NYC    Nov. 20, 2009

First off: this is one of the most horribly run and uncomfortable venues I’ve ever visited. You couldn’t pay me to go back there. And that’s just from the audience p.o.v. Onstage it was a sweatbox– the staff didn’t have the brains to set up some fans, even after Daltrey complained.

The crowd ostensibly loved Daltrey, and made a lot of noise every time he sang a Who song— a dozen of them–but when he tried to tell an anecdote related to a song– for instance, how John Entwhistle’s voice dropped from a soprano to a bass overnight– they shouted at him.

 Behind me were two beer-guzzling fools yelling, “Shut the f— up and sing!” Uh, did you jerks get kicked out of school at 15 and have to go work in a factory? And then  become a millionaire? And then a farmer? The man on the stage did. Why don’t YOU “shut the f— up”?

Apparently Daltrey isn’t allowed to be a human being; he’s supposed to be a 1970s jukebox doing their bidding. Uh, fellows: The Who broke up a million years ago. Roger’s released several damn good solo albums since then. Pay attention.

Then there was the smoke issue. Lots of pot smoke wafting through the air; as any singer knows, that’s a disaster for your throat. Daltrey asked people to smoke outside, explained that he’s allergic to smoke, it would affect his voice, and make it hard to sing, “and if you want to shut the show down, that’s the way to do it.” The audience gave him a brief respite, and soon everyone was lighting up again. And they supposedly love this guy?

Sadly, the only songs from a solo album (Rocks in the Head) were “Days of Light” and “Walk on Water”—excellent songs, and I wanted more. Daltrey also sang other people’s music, to great effect; a Taj Mahal song among others.  The audience welcomed Johnny Cash’s “Folsom Prison” and performed a singalong on “Ring of Fire.”

Daltrey dedicated “Without Your Love,” from the McVicar fllm soundtrack, to the fans over the years…a generous gesture, considering how many of them were acting like assholes that night.  Big surprise was “Born on the Bayou,” which apparently he’s been wanting to sing since he heard Creedence Clearwater Revival at Woodstock; John Fogerty’s version is better.

For a band that had only 10 days’ rehearsal, they were remarkably tight. Simon Townshend on guitar was, as always, in top form. I don’t know why the drummer was in a plexiglass box–maybe to be safe from the errant microphone tosses? But they seemed to be having fun with the intermittent snippets of the fake radio ads from The Who Sell Out.

Things got raggedy, though, when Daltrey’s earpiece fell out during a bit of microphone loop-de-loop, and he had to be hooked up again while the band kept playing. And then there was a mike toss he missed, and it hit the stage with a big clunk.  Sometimes the backing vocals drowned him out; sometimes he wasn’t going to make the high notes, so he backed off the mike. But as the man said, “It’s a live show; we don’t give a f—.” As for encores, he announced, “We’re not doing encores; we’ll just play ‘til we drop.”

Actually, the man does give a f—. One section of the crowd up front was giving him a particularly hard time, bellowing incomprehensible drunk things at him while he was talking. He gave as good as he got, though, cursing back at them, and the Shepherd’s Bush boy came out: “Come on up here, mush, let’s see you get up here and do it.” They didn’t.

The real surprise was the range of his personal comments, from political to economic to spiritual (“You loved your President for six whole months. Give him a chance!”) Not that most of the punters cared. It was an interesting glimpse of the person behind rock’s great roar, but most of the audience wanted to stay stuck in the ‘70s.

I don’t get it: they paid to see the greatest rock singer of all time, he came up with an interesting mix of material–no filler, no clunkers–we’re finally getting a gllimpse of the man as something beyond the pipes of The Who, and that’s not good enough?

Memorable moments: His full-throttle version of “Somebody Give Me a Stone,” his red-hot harmonica playing near the end of the show…and of course The Chest. (Thanks for the open shirt, Roger!) Yeah, he’s 65, and not the consistent powerhouse he was, but Daltrey is full of piss and vinegar.

What I remember of the set list:

Tattoo, Behind Blue Eyes, Pictures of Lily, Who Are You, Baba O’Riley, Blue Red and Gray (accompanying himself on a ukelele!), Summertime Blues, Squeeze Box, Going Mobile, Can You See The Real M, Folsom Prison, Ring of Fire, Days of Light, Walk on Water, Give Me A Stone, Without Your Love, Born on the Bayou…