"The Kids Are Alright" was written in 1965 by a twenty year old Pete Townshend. The Who was already distinguishing itself on the London scene with energetic, even violent displays of maximum R&B, but the song describes a quieter process of self-selection. There is a pause after the song's ringing opening chord, followed by the discrete assertion, "I don't mind."
The instruments kick back in and the lyric specifies, "...other guys dancing with my girl," but the separation of the first and second parts of the line suggest that the singer's absence of jealously is only one example of what he doesn't mind. Similarly isolated are "That's fine" from the second line, "Sometimes" and "Bells chime" from the first and second lines from the second verse, respectively.
I don't mind other guys dancing with my girl
That's fine, I know them all pretty well...
Sometimes, I feel I gotta get away
Bells chime, I know I gotta get away
The dramatic thrust of the song is contained in those words and fragments, taking the singer from philosophical detachment to acceptance, even approval of a particular situation; then from occasional stirrings to the dawning (bells are chiming, wake up!) of an ambition not shared by the singer's peers. He doesn't mind other guys dancing with his girl because she is ballast and he's "gotta get away." He feels, he knows, if he doesn't leave, he'll go out of his mind. He's just not breaking up with one particular female, he's divorcing his neighborhood, his childhood. No hard feelings, mind you--"Better leave her behind with the kids, they're alright/ The kids are alright."
The
Kids Are Alright
by Peter Townshend
I
don't mind other guys dancing with my girl
That's fine, I know them all pretty well
But I know sometimes I must get out in the light
Better
leave her behind with the kids, they're alright
The kids are alright
Sometimes,
I feel I gotta get away
Bells
chime, I know I gotta get away
And I know if I don't, I'll go out of my mind
Better leave her behind with the kids, they're alright
The kids are alright
I
know if I go things would be a lot better for her
I
had things planned, but her folks wouldn't let her
I
don't mind other guys dancing with my girl
That's
fine, I know them all pretty well
But I know sometimes I must get out in the light
Better
leave her behind with the kids, they're alright
The
kids are alright
And that's all they'll ever be--alright. Not rich or famous, successful or superb--alright. So while Townshend currently occupies offices that overlook his old haunts, he is light years away from them in a practical sense.
In 1966, the same year "The Kids are Alright" was released on The Who Sings My Generation, Bryan Holland was born in Southern California. Although the case can be made for many successful pop artists' superior intellect, few are as elaborately credentialed as Holland. Having been valedictorian of his high school class (which earned him the nickname "Dexter"), he graduated from the pre-med program at USC, and went on to get a doctorate in molecular biology. He and his high school friend Greg Kiesel (possessor of a BA in finance from Long Beach State) taught themselves to play the guitar and bass, respectively, and founded the band Manic Subcidal in 1984 after being denied access to a Social Distortion concert. That band evolved into The Offspring, with drummer Ron Welty (who has a degree in electronics) being the final addition to the line-up. Their third album Smash broke out as the best selling record on an independent label ever, selling between four and nine million copies, depending on which source you believe. Together, Dexter and "Greg K" formed their own label, Nitro Records. A few years ago, Holland testified before Congress about the notoriously corrupt and thieving practices of the major labels.
Sometime in the midst of these accomplishments, singer/lyricist Holland visited his old neighborhood in Garden Grove. There, he contemplated the fates of the kids he grew up with. "...this one had a nervous breakdown; another guy got killed in a driving accident," he said in an interview. "You grow up in America, and [you're supposed to] have such a bright future. And it's really not that way."
That epiphany led to the song "The Kids Aren't Alright" on The Offspring's 1998 album Americana, and it is a sequel of sorts to Townshend's composition. In it, the singer has returned and finds the street where he lived in shambles.
Now the neighborhood's cracked and torn
The kids are grown up, but their lives are worn
How can one little street swallow so many lives?
It isn't a metaphysical question. The kids fashioned their own lives, wore them roughly, then wore them out. The song's second verse is a litany of self-imposed catastrophes, "chances thrown." The kids could have been alright, but they blew it. Holland is unsentimental about cause and effect. Americana, for example, includes the songs "Walla Walla," which taunts an inept thief on his way to the Big House, and "Why Don't You Get a Job?," which is self-explanatory. But "The Kids Aren't Alright" is emotional; just because the consequences are logical doesn't mean they can't break the heart.
Which brings us back to The Who. They were about as rich and famous, successful and superb as a rock band could could be, and as troubled. I don't know how if Townshend's school friends turned out alright, but the band was a mess. Between Townshend's rages and drummer Keith Moon's gleeful destructiveness, they annihilated so much equipment that the band didn't see a profit for years, and as a group they ran up additional bills by laying waste to countless hotel rooms and back stages. Drug and alcohol abuse was a continual problem for the band, leading to infighting and tragedy. In 1970, Moon accidentally killed his friend and chauffeur whilst under the influence, and died of an overdose in 1978. A year later, eleven fans were crushed to death in a stampede at a concert in Cincinnati. The band members managed to survive the 80s and 90s without too much incident and quite a number of triumphs. Two months ago, however, a day before a Who reunion tour was scheduled to begin, Entwhistle was found in his Las Vegas hotel room, dead of a cocaine related heart attack.
To have one of the most accomplished musicians in rock history die in such a way and at such a late date is both sad and unseemly. The man was pushing sixty--he should have known better, and done better. He threw his chances, too. In fact, of four extraordinarily talented lads from Shepherds Bush who had the world at their feet, two died well before retirement age, and it's a marvel another (Townshend) has survived to this point. To quote The Offspring's staccato question, "What the hell is going on?" Perhaps the best answer is theirs, too: they ran headlong into "the cruelest dream, reality."
The Offspring are acclaimed and popular. Their career has so far been unmarred by death or scandal. They are well rounded and stable. No matter what happens with their next album, there is no apparent reason why they should not land on their feet. But for all their talent and smarts, they have been stuck from the beginning with a single label for their music, and not even an original one: retro-punk.
The Who has always been a high wire act. They lived and played like there was no tomorrow, and finally, for two of them there wasn't. Now, Townshend has an executive position with a publishing firm, an interest in boating, and a young girlfriend. Now, singer Roger Daltrey keeps busy with different singing gigs and appearances in B-movies and television. But in the beginning, the band had only music and no security net. They redefined what music sounded like and looked like, and what albums could be. They became legends because they knew there's more to life than alright.
The
Kids Aren't Alright
by The Offspring
When
we were young the future was so bright
The old neighborhood was so alive
And every kid on the whole damn street
Was gonna make it big and not be beat
Now the neighborhood's cracked and torn
The kids are grown up but their lives are worn
How can one little street
Swallow so many lives?
Chances
thrown, nothing's free
Longing for what used to be
Still it's hard, hard to see
Fragile lives, shattered dreams
Jamie
had a chance, well she really did
Instead she dropped out And had a couple of kids
Mark still lives at home cause he's got no job
He just plays guitar and smokes a lot of pot
Jay committed suicide,
Brandon OD'd and died
What the hell is going on?
The cruelest dream, reality
Chances
thrown, nothing's free
Longing for what used to be
Still it's hard, hard to see
Fragile lives, shattered dreams
