u/BrianInAtlanta

Press reports that The Who will be blown up onstage by the IRA if they wear their Union Jack jackets. The Who have a jacket made of the Eire flag. Max Ker-Seymer, who opened for The Who at one of these shows, told me the story was "bullshit".

One thing that did happen was that Roger Daltrey, who had just been reinstated in The Who after the second time they kicked him out (reasons unknown) was invited on this day for tea with Bob Dylan who was performing that night in Belfast.

Here's the local press report: ‘We’ll Be Nice To You’... said The Who. There were about twenty girls sheltering against the glass doors of the International on Friday last. They were cold and miserable. The excitement had worn off now. They knew that the chart-topping ‘My Generation’ Who were just five feet away in the residents’ lounge. They also knew that they hadn’t a chance to get inside. Roger Daltrey and Pete Townshend are more excited than their fans. Roger was reading Cityweek. “How did you manage to print that stuff about the Walkers?” he asked. Pete smiled. “We’ll be nice to you," be chuckled, dimpling his cheeks. “Honest we will!” Roger was bored. He changed his white tweed jacket for a burgundy velvet double-breasted. “Can we go out somewhere?’ he asked me. With Dubliner Gerry Boyd in the lead, Rog in the middle and yours truly bringing up the rear, we ran along Bedford Street, down Amelia Street and into the Jazz Club. After the screaming streets, Sammy’s was comparatively quiet. “I've never got used to being chased," said Rog. And that was the impression that all four of them gave. They are all local boys made good. The Who are probably the most human of the Name Groups. They like to play the Big Time. Rog spends a lot of money. He drinks four Scotches and two Cokes at a time. “In a pint glass!” he explained to the bewildered barman. “Just keep on pouring!” “That’s thirty-two and fourpence, sir!" Rog had no money, so their manager had to fork out. Chris Stamp looks after the group. A brother of film-star Terence, Chris knows his way about. His brain was working like a cash register all night, and he gets as many requests for autographs as the group! Artist Cecil McCartney joined us in the Jazz Club. Off we ran to the ABC. We caught Dylan singing ‘Tambourine Man’ and charged backstage. Rog and Dylan drank tea and talked. They compared Belfast, London and New York. Belfast was a non-runner in Dylan’s popularity charts. Then the two returned. As Dylan passed, Cecil the beat-poet-artist raised a hand to salute and said: “Peace!” "Ummhh!” said Dylan. And then off to Lisburn. One look at the crowd and at the Ballroom stewards convinced Pete that it’d be safer not to wear either a Union Jack or a Tricolour. “We’ll be lucky to get out of here alive!” said Keith uneasily. And was he right? Well, that’s another story! Over Bloody Marys in the hotel afterwards, I spoke to Reg Markham and Dermot Latham. M. & L. run the Dublin and Cork Cavalier Clubs and were responsible for booking The Who. They’ll be bringing big names over pretty often now. (Cityweek, 12 May 1966, p. 20)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qDXWzUOr7DU

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qLgmQ7PyuLk

1966 NME Concert Mightiest Ever! Thousands upon thousands of fans converging on the massive Wembley Empire Pool for the biggest pop show in the world on Sunday. This fantastic spectacular can be seen on ABC-TV in two editions on this Sunday (8) and next (15). Second half by Alan Smith. The screaming was deafening for the Who. Singer Roger Daltrey raced on in a white jacket and a massive brown tie. He snatched the microphone viciously. You could just about make out the opening bars of "Substitute." Keith Moon was going wild on the drums, set up on a high dais head-and-shoulders above the rest of the group. His drumsticks were smashing, smashing into the drums and the cymbals. They were shaking uncontrollably and moving forward on the dais. Below, Daltrey was holding the long microphone stand across one knee, like a strong-man about to demonstrate the specialty of his act. "Substitute" finished, and Keith Moon steadied himself in the drumming seat, ready for the new attack. Suddenly it started. I could make out "before I get old…" and I knew the second number was "My Generation." Keith Moon smashed into his drums again, again, again. I don't know that it was music; it was more like watching violence put to rhythm. But unquestionably, it stood out as the most remarkable appearance in the entire second half, and I say this even though the Rolling Stones and the Beatles were to follow. (NME: 66/05/06, p. 3, 12)

Photos by Chris Morphet.