Keith Moon: Thirty Years On

It's been thirty years since Keith Moon died. It can't possibly be that long ago, I can't possibly have put all those years behind me so quickly, it can't possibly be a different century, but it is. I was thirteen, almost fourteen years old, just starting high school on September 7, 1978. Keith Moon was thirty-two when he died, although he looked older. Enormous alcohol consumption and heavy doses of drugs will do that to you. Living the Keith Moon lifestyle will do that to you, make you look old before your time, kill you at age that seems too young to die.

Keith Moon has been dead almost as long as he was alive and he has been dead far longer than he was the drummer for the Who. But Moon's time with the band, from 1965's My Generation to 1978's Who Are You, were the classic Who years. The Who still exist as a band, albeit with half their original members, still creating new music and still a joy to behold on a concert stage. Yet the Who that means the most to people is the Who of Keith Moon.

Pete Townshend may have been the brains behind the Who, but Keith Moon was the soul. Moon exemplified what the Who was all about. Keith Moon was about anger and violence, wit and humor, cruelty and comfort, defiance and independence, self-expression and self-immolation. He was what the Who were about and the Who were all about what rock 'n roll is supposed to be about. Keith Moon was also about occasionally driving a car into the Holiday Inn swimming pool. But that's not why you called.

Moon was a unique drummer in that he rarely kept a beat. He was quite capable of it, as you can hear on "The Kids Are Alright" or "Bellboy," but he was more given to a free-form style, somewhat in the tradition of Gene Krupa, a drummer from the age before rock, that Moon admired.

If Keith had merely kept a beat, he would have been Charlie Watts with an attention deficit disorder. Instead he provided an individualistic style that was more about flourishes and embellishments. He was unique amongst rock drummers then and now, and perhaps amongst drummers in any musical style. Keith Moon was, as he put it, "the best Keith Moon-style drummer around." Oh, and he liked playing with explosives.

His style was explosive. Keith Moon attacked the drum kit, he slashed at it and he thrashed at it and he trashed it. He also did quite literally put explosives inside his drum kit and blow it up. Pete Townshend blames his hearing loss on Moon exploding his kit at the end of their performance of "My Generation" on "The Smothers Brothers Show."



Moon attacked himself as well, and sometimes those around him. He drank like a fish and drugged like a...well, whatever animal takes a lot of drugs. Speaking of animals and drugs, he once took an excessive amount of animal tranquilizers, enough to make him pass out on stage. He was carted off and the band replaced him for the rest of the show with an audience member. But in the long run, there was no replacing Keith Moon and there never will be.

Moon was smart and funny and self-deprecating, full of hyper-activity and insanity and sadness. He acted the clown, but it was a mask. Pete said the only time he saw the real Keith was when Moon was crying. He was a shallow fool with the depth of an ocean.

Drugs and booze and an early death. He was the epitome of rock 'n roll I guess. When he died I didn't feel any great sadness, nor was I surprised. Perhaps every rock fan expected it to happen. Give him his props though. Keith Moon lived as he wanted, telling truths as he saw them, and went out the way someone like him should have. The Moon shone brightly, and then exploded.