The Who At Charlton On Saturday May 18th 1974

On this very day, Saturday May 18^th, 1974 I was living in a little village called Summerhill, near Wrexham in North Wales. I was 22 years old. I was sharing a house with my brother Paul and a friend called Dave. They were both 18. We had been up all-night partying and had been waiting until the village shop opened to buy cigarettes and milk. Finally, about 7.00 in the morning the shop opened, and I went in and bought cigs, milk and the Daily Mirror. I got back to the house which was strewn with album covers and all sorts of garbage from the night before and put the kettle on. In the Daily Mirror something caught my eye.

"Hey, guess what? The Who are playing in London today". It was a huge concert at Charlton Athletic Football Stadium. Also playing were Lou Reed, Humble Pie, Bad Company, Maggie Bell, Lindisfarne and Montrose.

 "Right, let’s go," said Dave and Paul immediately. "Don't be stupid”, I replied, "We haven’t got any money".

 "You boring old bastard, you're no better than Dobbin.” (Dobbin was the name we gave to an old horse who lived in a field nearby) “We are going, you stay here if you want, you old git".

We added up all our money and we had about £3 between us and set off down the lane in the general direction of London which was 191 miles away. At Wrexham railway station we got on the train and kept a wary eye out for the ticket collector. I had quite a lot of experience of travelling on trains without paying. Finally, I spotted him coming along the next carriage. "Here comes the clippie”, I said to the others, “Get in the bog". We casually left our seats and all 3 of us got in the toilet with our boots wedged against the door and the sign saying VACANT .We stayed in there for several minutes until we were sure the clippie had walked past and then nonchalantly returned to our seats. In this fashion we travelled to London. When we got to the venue, Charlton’s stadium called The Valley we used another skill I had learned from getting into football matches for free. Without hesitating we quickly clambered over the top of the turnstiles and ran into the crowd before the stewards could grab us. I couldn't believe it had gone so smoothly. There were about 74,000 people there. It was packed, even on the pitch. It was also a really hot day and I took my shirt off. I was also thirsty.

"I'm going to get some ice lollies", I said to the others and strolled off to an ice cream van. I queued up for about 30 minutes and bought three ice lollies and started walking back. Then I looked up and all I could see were 74,000 faces. I had forgotten where we were. I was seized with panic and had a vision of me wandering around London in the middle of the night dressed only in jeans and with no money.  Luckily by some miracle I managed to find my comrades. We had missed Bad Company and Montrose. Lindisfarne were on when we arrived. I was a big fan of theirs. We heard some great music that day, Humble Pie featuring the late great Steve Marriott were nearly as good as The Who. Lou Reed fell a bit flat I thought, but he sang Sweet Jane which was my favourite song of his at the time. I also enjoyed seeing Maggie Bell.

The Who were sublime, playing for nearly two hours. An internet friend kindly sent me a bootleg recording of the show a few years ago. This was the setlist. I Can't Explain, Summertime Blues, Young Man Blues, Baba O'Riley, Behind Blue Eyes, Substitute, I'm a Boy, Tattoo, Boris the Spider, Drowned, Bell Boy, Doctor Jimmy, Won't Get Fooled Again, Pinball Wizard, See Me, Feel Me, 5:15, Magic Bus, Naked Eye, Let's See Action, My Generation. The energy and power of the band in those days was awesome. I didn’t see The Who again for 42 years until they headlined at Glastonbury. They were ok but Roger Daltrey’s voice isn’t as good these days and they have lost the powerhouse provided by Keith Moon and John Entwhistle. Also, I think I have changed as well. I’m not so keen on loud music played live anymore. That’s probably because I’m 67 now and not 22. That night at Charlton though was one of the best performances by a rock band I have ever witnessed.

We spent the night in Euston Station and got some free food and cups of tea from a van outside. We found out later that it was owned by a notorious sex criminal, the self-styled ‘Bishop’ Of Medway Roger Gleaves. He used the free food van as a cover to lure runaways into a life of degradation. I’m glad we never met him. On Sunday morning we bunked the train back to North Wales after a brilliant unforgettable adventure in those far flung halcyon days of yesteryear.

PS, I found the photos on Google images. Thank you very much to whoever put them there.