The Who's music/act was almost a weapon. They took the stage with something akin to an invasion/occupation. It was theirs now until they didn't want it anymore.
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For a great many of us tender shoots, rock music was oxygen, the air we breathed. This opening had been fiercely anticipated. That worn-out dump in the seedy East Village was now... Mecca!
As The Who show progressed, with no security staff whatsoever, the wings of the stage started getting jammed. But, I was still the only one onstage.
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