SetlistHeaven And Hell, I Can't Explain, Water, I Don't Even Know Myself, Young Man Blues, Overture, 1921, Amazing Journey, Sparks, Eyesight To The Blind, Christmas, The Acid Queen, Pinball Wizard, Do You Think It's Alright, Fiddle About, Tommy Can You Hear Me, There's A Doctor, Go To The Mirror, Smash The Mirror, Miracle Cure, I'm Free, Tommy's Holiday Camp, We're Not Gonna Take It, Summertime Blues, Shakin' All Over, Spoonful, My Generation
Of all the shows I saw during the 1960's and 1970's this sticks as the most memorable.
The event was a sellout and the crowd was really free. Skimpily dressed chicks and long-haired "freaks" passing joints and bottles of wine were the order of the day. Everybody was cool. No fights that I saw. No OD's either. We were lucky to get great seats with a good vantage point for viewing the entire stage.
The lights dimmed and then suddenly Joe Walsh and the James Gang walked onstage. They had a pretty solid repertoire of hits and played them masterfully. I would have bought a ticket just to see them play for an hour or so. At the end of their last song there was a couple of second quiet "lull" as the crowd did not exactly know if the song was over, somebody way up in the stands yelled "you stink". Joe Walsh did the right thing, he gave the guy his middle finger and said "F... You!"
After about a 15 or 20 minute break the lights went out and the stage was eerily quiet for a full 30 seconds. Suddenly a spotlight zeroed in on a figure wearing a white "milkman's" suit descending from about 10 or 12 feet in the air (did he jump off something?) and landing on the stage floor with a wild swing of his arm tearing into his guitar strings and shattering the silence with a deafening roar. (Peter Townshend, of course). He swung that arm like a fast-moving pendulum while firing off guitar notes and riffs. He played every fret from one end of that guitar to the other like it was an extension of himself. A third leg or a third arm.
The band played song after song, hit after hit. Roger Daltrey swinging the microphone like a lariat and catching it in the nick of time, every time, on cue. Keith Moon with drumsticks twirling and bouncing off drumheads 20 maybe 25 feet in the air, only to fall back caught in his hand and played without missing a beat. John Entwistles' bass permeating every bone in my body. I swear fillings came loose. The band would individually solo from time-to-time showcasing each players talents, but then come back and play tightly together, every time.
The light show that accompanied the performance was psychedelic but did not overpower the show. Not like Alice Coopers' gimmickry nor the opposite, Jethro Tulls' boring non-light show (where I swear they lip-synced the entire concert).
No sir, no lip-syncing by the Who. Their clothing was drenched with sweat as they poured their hearts and talent into each and every song. The group did not destroy their equipment at the end of this show, as was their trademark. I personally would have been in tears to see such fine instruments that gave us more than two hours of great music and memories smashed into pieces.
Boy was I lucky to have bought a ticket to see the show. What an event! I'll never forget it.