A lesson from Roger Daltrey in dealing with ravages of time
Roger Daltrey, left, and Pete Townshend of "The Who" perform at TQL Stadium in Cincinnati in May 2022. The band has announced its final tour. Credit: AP/Amy Harris
The Song is Over.
That famous tune title is also the cheeky name of the upcoming concert tour by The Who — the band's final road trip, its members say. They bade audiences goodbye once before, more than four decades ago, but this one has a heavier air of finality.
Perspective comes from lead singer Roger Daltrey, now 81, who told the crowd at a charity concert at London's Royal Albert Hall in March that he was suffering from hearing and vision loss.
"The joys of getting old mean you go deaf. I also now have got the joy of going blind," Daltrey is reported to have told the audience. "Fortunately, I still have my voice."
As droll introspection, it was sobering yet also endearing. Admitting our diminishments as we get older is difficult. Time has its way with all of us, sometimes more noticeably, other times less so. For those in the spotlight, the process can be especially hard.
In Daltrey's case, context is required. He's been performing for more than 60 years before massive sound systems that can take a toll on rock gods and mere mortals alike. I saw The Who perform in all the thunderous brilliance of their heyday in Chicago Stadium in December 1975, and I'm not sure triple-insulated earmuffs would have detracted from the experience. It's no wonder his hearing is going. But as a cursory check of recent performances on YouTube will confirm, Daltrey's voice is indeed fine.
Daltrey hardly is alone among older musicians dealing with the indignities of aging. His bandmate, guitarist Pete Townshend, also has hearing loss but as he told an interviewer in 2019, "I wear modern fancy hearing aids, and life is grand," an adaptation with which many of his nonmusical peers can identify.
Bruce Springsteen and Paul McCartney have had various health issues and Rolling Stones front man Mick Jagger had heart valve replacement surgery in 2019. Guitar great Eric Clapton struggles with peripheral neuropathy, a painful nerve condition that he says has affected his ability to play. “[It’s] hard work to play the guitar and I’ve had to come to terms with the fact that it will not improve," Clapton once said.
To varying degrees and with differing success, they have adapted and continue to perform.
Daltrey, for example, schedules solo tours when The Who takes a break. It's a kind of "use it or lose it" philosophy that says you should exercise your vocal cords regularly so they don't atrophy. It seems to be working. He might move a bit like an 81-year-old, but he doesn't sound like one.
There are takeaways here. It's immutable law that what we are capable of doing slips away with time. Eventually, we all find that out. We can try to overlook the signs, we can pretend they are not what they seem, we can deny their existence to loved ones who can see what is happening. But eventually, with rage or grace, we need to come to terms with this erosion.
Fortunately, age also has a way of distilling purpose, if we're wise enough to accept it. It helps us focus more on the things that still lie within our capability and celebrate that, rather than mourn what is slipping away.
Daltrey still can sing, so he sings.
The Song is Over, the band proclaims, but the lyrics convey something more hopeful.
I'll sing my song to the wide open spaces
I'll sing my heart out to the infinite sea
I'll sing my visions to the sky high mountains
I'll sing my song to the free, to the free
Daltrey and Clapton are among those who provide a template for the rest of us. Focus on what you still can do and do that well, and let go of the rest.
The singer sings, the player plays, the writer writes. We do our best. And on we go.
Columnist Michael Dobie's opinions are his own.
Michael Dobie is a member of the Newsday editorial board.
