This has been a season of seasoned-yet-vibrant pop stars alighting Santa Barbara’s stages. Specifically, 82-year-olds still kicking it up with clarity and energy.
First came supreme pop/disco soul Queen Diana Ross at the Santa Barbara Bowl. Less than a week later, on September 1, 82-year-old Roger Daltrey graced the stage of the Lobero Theatre — the smallest and most intimate stop on his current tour — and, with a versatile nine-piece band, delivered some steamy, sturdy goods from The Who catalog and beyond.
A general verdict on these shows: We’ll have some of what they’re having.
The evening started on a satisfying sneak attack note. Via a casual survey during intermission, I learned that I wasn’t the only one heretofore unfamiliar with the music and lineage of the opener, Amy Helm. Unfamiliar, that is, until we caught wind of her bold and persuasive musical voice and her late-set reveal as the daughter of the great Levon (The Band) Helm.
Closing out a set of rootsy goodness — lined with elements of country blues and folk woven into a personal tapestry, abetted by nimble guitarist Anthony Da Costa — she closed out with the song she used to sing with her father during his celebrated late-career “Midnight Ramble” project and late-breaking Grammy award–lit limelight. She wielded her father’s personal mandolin and infectiously laid into “Atlantic City,” the Springsteen song covered by The Band on their album Jericho.
In a strange way, Daltry’s show often felt stronger and more committed than The Who in its recent pre-retirement phase. Not to fault the veteran and pioneering rock band, but the air started to go out of its tires, even somewhat noticeable when it played at the Santa Barbara Bowl in 2016. (Trivia: This was one of those concerts when Daltrey got floored, after tripping over a mic cable.)
At the Lobero, a decade later, Daltrey’s pipes were in good order, as was his showman’s warmth and breezy wit. “This is like a pub gig for us,” he told the Lobero crowd up front, in respect to the unusually close and homey atmosphere of the room. After winning over the audience with Pete Townshend’s “Let My Love Open the Door” and The Who’s “Who Are You?,” he introduced the Taj Mahal–linked song “Freedom Ride,” saying, “This one we do just for us. We never rehearse. There will be cock-ups.” The band then eased into the fairly complex arrangement of the song, quickly proving his claim to be a lie.
The acoustic-leaning spirit of Helm’s opening set managed to segue nicely into Daltrey’s set, which wins points for broadening out from standard brand rock instrumentation, including acoustic tools — violinist Katie Jacoby, accordion (Geraint Watkins), harmonica (Steve Weston), mandolin (Billy Nichols) and earthy percussion (Jody Linscott) in the impressive, diverse arrangements.
By Daltrey’s admission, The Who has now been through its official retirement tour stage. “That was the last Who tour,” he said, then grinned, adding “but if you have any disaster, we’ll play.” Given that Who-lessness in the world, there was a special buzz and charm in hearing his familiar voice calling up beloved Who hits — “Squeeze Box,” replete with cheesy but cool singalong shtick, “Won’t Get Fooled Again,” and a climactic blast of the micro-epic “Baba O’Riley,” a showcase for violinist Jacoby.
The humble Daltrey solo career and discography were brushed past cursorily, with the hit “After the Fire” (from his 1985 album Under a Raging Moon), “Waiting for a Friend,” and “Days of Light.” He leaned into some perhaps unexpected cover material turf, demonstrating his versatility, including Paul Simon’s “The Boy in the Bubble,” Leo Sayer’s “Giving it all Away,” and some Creedence Clearwater Revival-ism, with “Have You Ever Seen the Rain.”
After a fairly dull, rote take on Neil Young’s “Rockin’ in the Free World,” Daltrey capped off the night with a surprise, sensitive bonbon of a final encore. With only his guitar and voice, he gave a sensitive version of the Kinks’ “Days,” reframed as an evanescent ballad.
It was a tender grace note of an ending, further complicating an essential question about this artist: Who, in fact, are you? Doot doot, doot doot.
You must be logged in to post a comment.