Back in the early ’70s, The Who had already managed to assert themselves as one of the wildest live bands the music world had ever seen.
But it wasn’t just their unprecedented jams that set them apart – their live shows quickly became renowned for the antics of their drummer Keith Moon.
As 1973 came to a close, the band had just released their immense sixth album, Quadrophenia, and were out on the road in support of the new record. With singles like ‘5.15’ and ‘Love, Reign o’er Me’ doing the rounds, these shows were always going to be memorable, though not quite for the reason that fans would have expected.
On November 20th, 1973, the outfit found themselves at the Cow Palace in San Francisco during a stop on their U.S. tour. Understandably, it was a big event for The Who’s American fanbase, and attracted punters from all over, including mega fan Scot Halpin.
Halpin – who had recently moved to the area – attended with a friend, using tickets they’d bought from a scalper. Turning up a ridiculous thirteen hours early in an attempt to get a good spot, Halpin was certain that this gig was going to be special.
But even he had no idea about the role he was set to play in the evening’s events.
Things go south – fast
When The Who took to the stage, everything was going exactly as fans would have expected: Roger Daltrey’s powerful voice boomed from the stage, John Entwistle’s bass thundered along, and Pete Townshend’s acclaimed guitar work was as mesmerising as ever.
And, at the back of the stage, Keith Moon sat pounding away at his kit with the force that his name had become synonymous with.
Of course, something else that Keith Moon’s name was synonymous with was an insatiable appetite for over-indulgence. And on this particular evening, it seemed that it got the better of him as, about an hour into the gig, he collapsed onto his drum kit.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PnuxSKsNy3M
This legendary gig was thankfully captured on film in its entirety
Roadies quickly realised something was clearly wrong and whisked Moon offstage, leaving the rest of the band to finish their performance of the monstrous ‘Won’t Get Fooled Again’ without a rhythm section.
Keith returned shakily to the stage, trying his hand at ‘Magic Bus’, but didn’t last through that song either, leaving this bandmates to push on with a percussion-less version of ‘See Me, Feel Me’ to round out the first encore.
While Roger Daltrey thanked the audience for sitting through this impromptu three-piece performance, Pete Townshend realised they were going to need some extra help if they were going to finish up the gig on a strong note fitting an act of their stature.
“Can anybody play the drums?” he asked the audience. “I mean somebody good!”
Scot’s moment of truth
Scot’s friend, Mike Danese, answered the call, and he hurriedly told security that he knew the man for the job. When gig promoter Bill Graham asked if he was indeed up to the task, Scot simply stated that he was, and soon found himself behind Keith Moon’s legendary kit.
What he hadn’t told anyone, though, was that he hadn’t actually been anywhere near a drum set in over a year.
Scot Halpin’s final song as an unofficial member of The Who
Given a single drink to steel his understandable nerves, Halpin was suddenly face to face with his hero Pete Townshend, who told him he’d give him the right cues. And before Halpin knew it, The Who burst into covers of Howlin’ Wolf’s ‘Smokestack Lightning’, to a roaring applause.
After rounding out the show with a performance of Willie Dixon’s ‘Spoonful’, Scot joined up with the rest of the band, taking part in their farewell bow, before he and friend Mike Danese found themselves backstage with the band.
The aftermath
Legend has it that Scot was offered a tour jacket and $1,000 by the band for his troubles, and while he never actually got the cash, he did receive the jacket – only for it to be stolen hours later. But he left with a memory that would last a lifetime.
Interviewed a couple of months later by Rolling Stone, Halpin praised the band – and especially Keith Moon – for their exceptional stamina on the live stage. “I only played three numbers and I was dead.”
Nevertheless, Scot Halpin’s name would go down in rock history as one of The Who’s shortest-tenured members, but also one of its bravest.
And so, the mythos of rock ‘n’ roll delivers another example of why the best things often come in small measures – you never know when you might be called on.
And when you pour your next drink, be sure to raise a glass to Scot.
