Pete Townshend with Ed
Set List: Pete solo: Won't Get Fooled Again, Behind Blue Eyes, Drowned, Cut My Hair, (partial song due to technical problems), Let My Love Open the Door
Pete and Ed: Heart To Hang Onto, Let's See Action, Better Man, Sheraton Gibson, Magic Bus, I'm One

Townshend's command of the audience was immediate, and he came out with a vengeance. Nearly pressed up against the stage, "Kaufyk" and I settled into a classic Who tune, and Pete took us through the anti-establishment lyrics, capturing the young and old with the pointed lyrics, "...we won't get fooled again." Then, to the left of the stage, Ed appears. Consistent with his casualness with even the stage-hands, he sat loosely like he was taking a break from serving hotdogs, right alongside a mysterious man on the side of the stage, apparently in charge of the sound -- and Ed bantered back and forth with him, keeping him company. The endearing nature of Ed's respectful posture before Pete, in my opinion, cannot be overstated. He squatted down and sat on a piece of equipment, all the while showing signs of the beats of songs affecting him, attentively watching Pete as a kid peeping behind the curtain, or who had barely snuck in like some of the fans detailed in Synergy.

When Pete gave him the nod, Ed came out. The crowd at this time, I noticed, was an interesting mix and perhaps warrants a description. While there were "men in suits," most of what dominated the theater styled, double decker club were younger, late 20 somethings and 30 somethings. Around us at front row were girls firing up a joint, members of the local professional hockey team slugging down beers, John McEnroe (tennis player) tossing back drafts and clearly "into" the music and a young man in the front taking photos with a fairly fancy camera, before he was tossed out.

The problem is you have to be either a true music affectionado or a Who fan to show the type of respect, or maintain a reverence throughout the show, even in between songs, that some may have expected when you hold this type of program. Anyone with music sense stared up as I did at Pete Townshend during the first song, and nearly held their breath. But, it was early in the show, and, not many folks there were interested it seemed (not many) in witnessing and appreciating fully the significance of a song that among a select few defined an era. Between the business types, and the folks who were "just drunk" and those who maybe wanted to see Ed play for reasons other than a true fan would, I suppose the talking was a distraction. If Ed felt it, I have to defer to him -- he made his view clear on the subject. But, in a way, it made the spirited fan understand exactly why he was there; a charity event, free flowing booze, it's going to create a cacophonous chattering or two, but, it might be what to expect unless you truly do close the doors to only a select few.

The notable notes for Ed:
- Many people yelled, "Welcome home, Ed." and it was tough to gauge how that went down with him;

- The new song with Pete is a gem. One cannot help but to see the overhang and contrasts as the two coordinate this 3 minute exchange: Pete's receding salt and pepper hair and worn face with Ed's blonde hair, dark roots and more youthful though maturing expression; Pete holding out the guitar as if an extension of his arm, a sound emanating as if from 40 strings with Ed's more thoughtful, methodical, careful strumming; Pete's helium-with-depth pitch as he sang, with Ed shooting the song as if flicking a rubber band on the notes out beyond the upper deck, punctuating each line with his patented soulfulness, harrowingness and neck flexing rage. Pete comes across as Hall of Fame, Ed comes across as the guy who takes off the tape in the bridge of his eyeglasses and turns out to be the star quarterback -- he is rather coy until it's his turn, then Ed adds a dimension to the song that will make it one of the more memorable "assists" in modern music duet history.

- I own a bootleg of Ed's Sheraton Gibson, and Pete's original. Again, Ed's ability to transform a song, to make it come out with a whole different meaning as he masterfully "interprets it" while he sings it, personalizes it, is a song metamorphosis seen when he covers "Won't Back Down" and "One Step Up." These are songs when, by the original artist, I race for the dial to change when on the radio; when Ed performs them, it's as if he preserves the musical integrity, but with an almost Vedderistic (new word?) "I have lived this" technique the song just makes sense. The same holds true for Sheraton Gibson. This was Pete's turn to be spectator. Pete's original makes you wanna cook a burger on the grill and twirl your girlfriend's arm about her head in a playful manner--but Ed's penetrating "Boy do I want to go home. . . Cleveland, OH," takes you to a starker place, as if you are stuck in some airport hotel with no way out, and nothing to do but pluck a guitar. The feeling when Ed carries the ball here is he's telling you a story that impacted his life and moved him profoundly, and I truly do not think the crowd knew what was hitting them. Powerful, indeed.

- The only time I sensed maybe a strain on Vedder is when singing Better Man. Maybe second hand smoke inhalation got to me, but, the audience at this time is what maybe, maybe got to him. I may be off, but, I remembered what he said long ago about the song Alive, and how it is overwhelmingly popular and a good beat, but all of that betrays the song's real morose theme of a boy being misled and perhaps even incest. As Ed has himself admitted about Better Man, "This song's about the bastard who married my momma." The crowd WOKE-UP when Ed broke into Better Man, and there was not more charged ground swell of support for the music, but as people loudly and quickly sang along, something did not feel right. Ed appeared less loose, and, it was almost as if saying "this is a powerful song, let me take the lead." The misperception I am making is that Ed was rude, it was not that; just body language. With the crowd worked-up, and singing as if hearing the tune in their car with the windows down, the show could have stopped on the spot, and everyone would have felt all the better for the night.

- But, Magic Bus came along, and, it was the show highlight, hands-down. Beyond the peppiness of the crowd at recognizing the unmistakable bus melody, and the righteousness of Ed and Pete's rendition, this song stood to illustrate the passing of the rock and roll legend gavel from old rock classic, to the new. Battle of the bands are popular; the battle on stage at this point was two men engaged in a tit-for-tat, verse for verse, with each other's energy feeding off the other - - and Ed caught the toss of Pete's gavel with class. In the words of Pete, in reference to Eddie. "Meet the new boss . . . "

When Townshend broke into the windmill flail of his arm with which he shocked the world like Jordan's one armed side dunk many years ago, it was an invigorating exclamation point to an evening ten feet from Ed that still keeps my ears ringing.

Back at the VIP party, "Kaufyk" and I traveled up to the bar, way too congested for Ed, was my thought. Sipping on a drink, we came across three women who looked like they were extras in a heroine documentary. They were at the House of Blues to see Pete, and were adamant on their view that they were not sucked into the Ed hype. This was not a day for converts though, until Kaufyk, a marginal fan, remarked to me on the way out -- "So, does this make up for missing Ed at the East Troy concert." That was rhetorical. "Well," Kaufyk added, "I gotta admit, up that close I was real impressed with Ed's voice. Real impressed. That guy can hammer a tune. He's got pipes."

Well, one convert ain't bad -- and the House of Blues had for one night left its blues behind it, and took into its belly a pivotal moment for two colossal musicians, and perhaps led one Chicago-native to the House of History.