{"id":2301,"date":"2025-04-02T13:49:50","date_gmt":"2025-04-02T13:49:50","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/flatplanplus.io\/mojo\/?p=2301"},"modified":"2025-04-02T13:49:50","modified_gmt":"2025-04-02T13:49:50","slug":"the-who","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/flatplanplus.io\/mojo\/2025\/04\/02\/the-who\/","title":{"rendered":"The Who"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>[et_pb_section fb_built=&#8221;1&#8243; _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221;][et_pb_row _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221;][et_pb_column type=&#8221;4_4&#8243; _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221;][et_pb_code module_class=&#8221;custom-cat&#8221; _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221;]<\/p>\n<div class=\"fp-mojo-presents\"><!-- [et_pb_line_break_holder] -->\t<\/p>\n<div class=\"fp-col-1\"><!-- [et_pb_line_break_holder] -->\t\t<pee class=\"tac text-white bold\">Mojo<\/pee><!-- [et_pb_line_break_holder] -->\t<\/div>\n<p><!-- [et_pb_line_break_holder] -->\t<\/p>\n<div class=\"fp-col-2\"><!-- [et_pb_line_break_holder] -->\t\t<pee class=\"tac text-grey bold\">FEATURE<\/pee><!-- [et_pb_line_break_holder] -->\t<\/div>\n<p><!-- [et_pb_line_break_holder] --><\/div>\n<p>[\/et_pb_code][et_pb_text module_class=&#8221;article-title&#8221; _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; header_font=&#8221;||||||||&#8221; header_text_align=&#8221;center&#8221; header_text_color=&#8221;#111111&#8243; header_font_size=&#8221;68px&#8221; custom_margin=&#8221;40px||||false|false&#8221; hover_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221; sticky_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243;]<\/p>\n<h1 class=\"p1\">The Who\u2019s 50 Greatest Songs<\/h1>\n<p>[\/et_pb_text][et_pb_text module_class=&#8221;intro-text&#8221; _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; text_orientation=&#8221;center&#8221; custom_padding=&#8221;||0px|||&#8221; hover_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221; sticky_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243;]<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400\">MOJO\u2019s rundown of The Who\u2019s best ever tracks<\/p>\n<p>[\/et_pb_text][et_pb_image src=&#8221;https:\/\/flatplan-plus-content.s3.eu-west-1.amazonaws.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/7\/2025\/04\/GettyImages-3204646.jpg&#8221; title_text=&#8221;The Who&#8221; _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; hover_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221; sticky_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243;][\/et_pb_image][et_pb_text module_class=&#8221;text-with-dropcap&#8221; _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; hover_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221; sticky_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243;]<\/p>\n<p class=\"p1 has-dropcap\">STARTING LIFE AS\u00a0R&amp;B-playing Mods, The Who quickly transformed into rule-breaking pioneers, perverting, distorting or ignoring the accepted rock tenets. John Entwistle\u2019s bass and Keith Moon\u2019s drums became lead instruments, vying for attention with Pete Townshend\u2019s guitar, which he\u2019d bash and trash to create an unholy wall of noise, citing Gustav Metzger\u2019s auto-destructive art as inspiration, while Roger Daltrey\u2019s role as straight man kept the ship from capsizing.<\/p>\n<p>[\/et_pb_text][et_pb_text _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; hover_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221; sticky_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243;]<\/p>\n<p>The only two members still surviving \u2013 and at the time of writing, still performing as The Who \u2013\u00a0 the partnership between Townshend and Daltrey is central to their mercurial magic and the volatile chemistry of the band, typical of the contradictions that make them such a remarkable group. There\u2019s \u201cwimpy little Townshend\u201d writing the songs, explained Pete Townshend, but \u201cthe guy singing them could beat your brains out.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That hint of violence is ever-present in much of The \u2018Orrible \u2018Oo\u2019s best songs, lurking behind corners and ready to explode at any moment. From Mod anthems to ballads for paranoid dictators, via the rummest cast-list in rock \u2013 transvestites, seaside idiots, invading armies \u2013 for almost 60 years Who songs have challenged the norms of every era and, by the by, rocked like thunder.<\/p>\n<p>Here, then, MOJO presents The Who\u2019s 50 finest moments. Strap yourselves in though &#8211; it\u2019s a white-knuckle ride\u2026\u00a0<\/p>\n<p>[\/et_pb_text][et_pb_image src=&#8221;https:\/\/flatplan-plus-content.s3.eu-west-1.amazonaws.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/7\/2025\/04\/HCA1TF.jpg&#8221; title_text=&#8221;AMAZING JOURNEY: THE STORY OF THE WHO, Pete Townshend, Keith Moon, Roger Daltrey, John Entwistle, 2007. \u00a9Spitfire&#8221; _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; hover_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221; sticky_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243;][\/et_pb_image][et_pb_text module_class=&#8221;image-gallery-caption&#8221; _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; text_font=&#8221;|300|||||||&#8221; text_font_size=&#8221;16px&#8221; text_line_height=&#8221;1.2em&#8221; custom_margin=&#8221;-10px||||false|false&#8221; hover_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221; sticky_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243;]<\/p>\n<p class=\"p1\">Who&#8217;s Who: (l-r) Pete Townshend, Keith Moon, Roger Daltrey, John Entwistle<\/p>\n<p>[\/et_pb_text][et_pb_text _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; hover_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221; sticky_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243;]<\/p>\n<p><strong>50. Zoot Suit<\/strong> (High Numbers single, 1964)<\/p>\n<p>Jerky, strutting and show-offy, Zoot Suit, written by the group\u2019s then advisor Pete Meaden enunciated the Mod experience with an insider\u2019s attention to detail \u2013 \u201cI wear zoot suit jacket with side vents five inches long\/I have two-tone brogues,\u201d boasts Roger Daltrey over a swaggering rhythm based around a then-obscure R&amp;B song, Misery, by the Detroit band, The Dynamics. The High Numbers\u2019 only single sold just 500 of its 1,000-copy run; the group reverted to \u2018The Who\u2019 four months later; by then Meaden had left, and Kit Lambert and Chris Stamp had assumed their management. But Zoot Suit is pivotal in The Who\u2019s evolution; they\u2019re Meaden\u2019s words but they acted as a creative spur for Townshend, ultimately unlocking his raison d\u2019\u00eatre \u2013 to provide an interior voice for the new youth experience.<\/p>\n<p><strong>49. Jaguar<\/strong> (Outtake from The Who Sell Out, 1967)<\/p>\n<p>Townshend\u2019s version of acid rock was sulphuric, not lysergic, and he answered the \u201cpsychedelic wetness\u201d of the Summer of Love with warped visions of rampant consumerism. Though Jaguar ultimately missed the cut, it was the first song written in this vein \u2013 a woozy cod-paean to the flash \u2019arry car marque (\u201cgrace, space, pace,\u201d hiss the backing vocals, seductively) addressed to a notional jaded hipster in Moon\u2019s high frenzied register (\u201cEverything they\u2019ve seen you have seen!\u201d etc). A sizzling, sardonic companion to Armenia City In The Sky.<\/p>\n<p><strong>48. Going Mobile<\/strong> (from Who\u2019s Next, 1971)<\/p>\n<p>There is something deliciously un-Who-like about a song praising the joys of motor caravaning; but the jubilant country-boogie of Going Mobile is no more about Airstream trailers than the Small Faces\u2019 Song Of A Baker is about making bread. One of the first songs written for Lifehouse, it celebrates the thrill of escaping societal bonds, made all the more powerful by Townshend\u2019s breezy vocal, squelchy synth outro \u2013 and the fact he\u2019d taken his own motorhome on the road when touring in summer 1970.<\/p>\n<p><strong>47. Eminence Front<\/strong> (from It\u2019s Hard, 1982)<\/p>\n<p>Pinging off a pulsating keyboard riff that sounded like Baba O\u2019Riley updated for the 1980s, Eminence Front found Townshend &#8211; fresh from a course of Dr Meg Patterson\u2019s Neuro Electric therapy &#8211; railing against the rise of Thatcherite yuppies. What could have come across as a rich rock star whine lands due to his visceral disgust \u00a0&#8211; \u201ccome and join the party dressed to kill\u201d &#8211; and the hypnotic, not particularly Who-like drive of the music. Townshend may have now been clean, but The Who\u2019s creative engine was still far from serene.<\/p>\n<p><strong>46. Amazing Journey<\/strong> (from Tommy, 1969)<\/p>\n<p>The title has become shorthand for The Who\u2019s own topsy-turvy narrative (it\u2019s shared with Murray Lerner and Paul Crowder\u2019s film doc of 2007) but the trek alluded to in the Tommy opera\u2019s spiritual centrepiece is decidedly inner, as our sensually challenged hero encounters a bearded, godlike figure: \u201cHe is your leader\/And he is your guide\u201d. The first song PT wrote for his baroque edifice epitomises how acoustic guitars denote Tommy\u2019s core of humility, before the Moon-led psych bashment kicks in.<\/p>\n<p><strong>45. Tea &amp; Theatre<\/strong> (from Endless Wire, 2006)<\/p>\n<p>Almost a decade ago, the last Who studio album ended with this regretful, delicately picked acoustic track which read like an elegy to the band still reeling from the sudden death of a second member. Two men meet for tea and discuss \u201ca great dream derailed\u201d, one of their kind \u201cgone\u201d, another \u201cmad\u201d, the other \u201cme\u201d. Is the \u201cstage\u201d vacated by the men in the last verse life itself? A powerful and pointed Who live set closer.<\/p>\n<p><strong>44. The Good\u2019s Gone<\/strong> (from My Generation, 1965)<\/p>\n<p>One of Daltrey\u2019s most convincing, and interesting, early performances, it\u2019s almost \u2018Method\u2019 singing as, pissed off and sneery, he delivers a blank-sounding deconstruction of a love turned bad, ratcheted up by Townshend\u2019s choppily chorded guitar solo. The track provides a strong contrast to the more excitably expressive, \u2018up\u2019 tracks that comprise most of their debut album. The vocal tone of \u201965 Dylan and sound of the also-emerging Byrds in Townshend\u2019s ringing guitar intro reveals a band on top form, and a songwriter with ears wide open.<\/p>\n<p><strong>43. I\u2019ve Known No War<\/strong> (from It\u2019s Hard, 1982)<\/p>\n<p>Like many of their \u201960s peers, The Who entered the \u201980s in the grip of a mid-life crisis, their principal songwriter wrestling with addiction and struggling to reconcile his past with his present. If their tenth studio album was an uneven set, the opening track on side two nods to Who\u2019s Next in terms of its brawny musical invective, while lyrically Townshend marries his post-War malaise to contemporary No Nukes sentiment. Despite their imminent \u2018farewell\u2019 tour, it whispered that all was not lost for The Who.<\/p>\n<p><strong>42. Dogs<\/strong> (single, 1968)<\/p>\n<p>With pirate radio finished, The Who found it difficult to infiltrate the new Radio 1 monopoly. Informed by trips to White City dog-track, and the rough-edged charm of the Small Faces\u2019 Lazy Sunday, Townshend\u2019s bungled attempt at radio-friendly pop resulted in this strange gem. Daltrey dubbed it \u201cwanking off\u201d, but heard anew it plays like the sweetest love song Ronnie Lane never wrote, and in its blend of character, dialogue, and soaring romantic warmth it clearly predates the narrative ambition and exposed emotions of 1973\u2019s Quadrophenia.<\/p>\n<p><strong>41. Heaven &amp; Hell<\/strong> (from Live At Leeds, 1995 CD reissue)<\/p>\n<p>John Entwistle\u2019s Who compositions were quirky, bass-driven monsters whose eccentricities were at once in tune and at odds with Townshend\u2019s personal meditations. Heaven &amp; Hell, however, was something else: proof the bassist could write the perfect Townshend-style rock song, complete with stirring major chord progression. First played in 1968, it was deemed thrilling enough to open the now-legendary Leeds University show (although not to grace the original vinyl release), with an instrumental section whose wild bass, guitar and drum improvs seem (gloriously) tangential.<\/p>\n<p>[\/et_pb_text][et_pb_image src=&#8221;https:\/\/flatplan-plus-content.s3.eu-west-1.amazonaws.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/7\/2025\/04\/17_SellOut.jpg&#8221; title_text=&#8221;17_SellOut&#8221; _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; hover_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221; sticky_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243;][\/et_pb_image][et_pb_text _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; hover_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221; sticky_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243;]<\/p>\n<p><strong>40. Rael Pts 1 &amp; 2<\/strong> (from The Who Sell Out, 1967)<\/p>\n<p>The Who debuted Rael on a tour of Scotland and the north in October \u201967. \u201cEveryone just looked at us with their mouths open,\u201d Townshend reported. \u201cThe complication was too much.\u201d Though not greatly suited to a Saturday night at the Beach Ballroom, Aberdeen, there\u2019s plenty to admire in Townshend\u2019s second mini-opera, not least a loony libretto about Red China invading the world (\u201cThe Red Chins in their millions will overflow their borders\u2026\u201d trills Pete, perkily) and the acoustic guitar brangggs and thunderous tympanies that presage the musical themes of Tommy.<\/p>\n<p><strong>39. You Better You Bet<\/strong> (single, 1981)<\/p>\n<p>Few would pick 1981\u2019s Faces Dances as their favourite Who LP, but You Better You Bet is an absolute belter, its lyrics inspired by yet another Townshend life crisis, this time his affair with Jackie Vickers. The lyrics are brilliantly on the nose (\u201cI\u2019ve drunk myself blind to the sound of old T.Rex\u2026 and Who\u2019s Next\u201d) and Daltrey delivers one of his strongest vocal performances, stretching, growling and chewing the word \u201cbetter\u201d with glee.<\/p>\n<p><strong>38. Run Run Run<\/strong> (from A Quick One, 1966)<\/p>\n<p>Underlining The Who\u2019s patriarchal sway over nascent US snot-rock (Count Five would essay My Generation and Out In The Street on their debut album) A Quick One\u2019s opener shelved the increasingly customary innovations in favour of a belligerent, bounding growler of a groove \u2013 injected with extra whoosh by the lift-off key change at 1.44. Typically of The Who when they\u2019re trying to play nice, there\u2019s a subtext of creepy and gauche: \u201cWhenever you run, I\u2019ll be following you\u2026\u201d Cue screams.<\/p>\n<p><strong>37. Endless Wire (Extended)<\/strong> (from Endless Wire, 2006)<\/p>\n<p>The Who\u2019s first album in 24 years was rich in beguiling fragments, short on fully-rounded songs \u2013 something Townshend acknowledged, surely, when he tacked an extra minute to the album\u2019s keynote tune and added it as a bonus track. A nagging ditty becomes something more satisfying, with the stoic trudge of rhythm, lilting bluegrass shimmers and dash of added Roger combining in an autumnal version of The Who\u2019s old defiance. The story? Answers on a postcard, please, to the usual address.<\/p>\n<p><strong>36. Naked Eye<\/strong> (from Odds &amp; Sods. 1974)<\/p>\n<p>A truly heroic song that fell between the cracks \u2013 it was destined for an aborted 1971 stopgap EP, but was never satisfactorily recorded for Who\u2019s Next \u2013 Naked Eye is The Who\u2019s lost classic, describing a troubled marriage, seemingly healthy \u201cto the naked eye\u201d, that ends in attempted murder. The fundamental power of the song, a close cousin of The Seeker and Behind Blue Eyes, suggests Townshend\u2019s own home life may have been suffering from The Who\u2019s enormo post-Tommy commitments.<\/p>\n<p><strong>35. Dreaming From The Waist<\/strong> (from The Who By Numbers, 1976)<\/p>\n<p>Unfairly dismissed by Pete Townshend as \u201ca fresh turd\u201d, this highlight from 1976\u2019s Who By Numbers is a mid-life crisis Pictures Of Lily; its newsly-turned-30 author thrumming with sexual frustration. This being The Who, however, Townshend\u2019s neurosis are voiced with the red blooded gusto Roger Daltrey, of a man who has never knowingly had trouble \u2018in that department\u2019.<\/p>\n<p><strong>34. Disguises<\/strong> (from Ready Steady Who EP, 1966)<\/p>\n<p>Playful, conceptual and funny, Disguises was perhaps one of the best realisations of former Ealing School Of Art student Townshend\u2019s desire to make \u201cpop art music\u201d. Sheet metal guitar clashes against an angular grind from Moon and Entwistle as if Jacob Epstein were trying to sculpt an R&amp;B group as Daltrey hurling the brilliantly surreal lyrics over like splashes of paint.<\/p>\n<p><strong>33. Our Love Was<\/strong> (from The Who Sell Out, 1967)<\/p>\n<p>Summer \u201967: Pete Townshend was glued to Sgt. Pepper and Pet Sounds. Previously in love songs suspicious, thwarted and defeatist, his togetherness with Karen Astley inspired euphoric celebration \u00e0 la Beach Boys. Recorded in August\/September at regular BB\u2019s haunt Columbia Studios on Sunset Boulevard and referencing You\u2019re So Good To Me, Our Love Was pscreams into 1967\u2019s psoundworld with a psuper psix-pstring psolo.<\/p>\n<p><strong>32. Happy Jack<\/strong> (single, 1966)<\/p>\n<p>Pete was altered by the teachings of Meher Baba in 1968, but his cabbalistic self had already manifested. A Number 3 hit, this punked-up toytown sing-along of the Isle Of Man \u2013 where the songwriter holidayed as a kid \u2013 tells of a vagrant who sleeps on the beach and smiles, beatifically, even when plagued by local urchins. There\u2019s vengefulness here (\u201cthey lied\u201d) and notions of martyrdom (could the donkey, burdens and tortures obliquely refer to Christ\u2019s passion?), but the lapping waters bring deliverance.<\/p>\n<p><strong>31. A Quick One (While He\u2019s Away)<\/strong> (from A Quick One, 1966)<\/p>\n<p>Townshend compiled A Quick One (While He\u2019s Away) by gluing some sketched melodies to hastily written lyrics that, he now admits, bubbled up from his subconscious in a way that was revealing even to him. The apparently simple narrative \u2013 a girl whose man has been gone \u201cfor nigh on a year\u201d is persuaded to hook up with a lusty engine driver named Ivor, before thinking better of it and reuniting with her partner \u2013 actually stemmed from Townshend\u2019s own childhood feelings of desertion during an extended period staying with his eccentric grandmother, Denny, while his parents\u2019 marriage was under duress.<\/p>\n<p>[\/et_pb_text][et_pb_image src=&#8221;https:\/\/flatplan-plus-content.s3.eu-west-1.amazonaws.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/7\/2025\/04\/R_6595035_1422745075_2637_jpeg.jpg&#8221; title_text=&#8221;R_6595035_1422745075_2637_jpeg&#8221; _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; hover_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221; sticky_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243;][\/et_pb_image][et_pb_divider color=&#8221;#111111&#8243; module_class=&#8221;custom-divider&#8221; _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; custom_margin=&#8221;||0px||false|false&#8221; custom_padding=&#8221;||0px||false|false&#8221; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221;][\/et_pb_divider][et_pb_text _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; hover_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221; sticky_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243;]<\/p>\n<p><strong>30. Magic Bus<\/strong> (single, 1968)<\/p>\n<p>Written circa My Generation in late 1965 but not recorded until one boozy afternoon in May 1968, a Bo Diddley beat, clacking claves and Pete\u2019s equally percussive guitar drive Roger\u2019s polite, upstanding passenger \u201cto my baby each day\u201d, but he soon gets designs on the driver\u2019s seat. Live, the song stretched out to an epic duet-cum-skit in which Rog tries to buy said vehicle from driver Pete (\u201cNooo!\u201d). \u201cJust a lot of fun,\u201d said Townshend, and almost uniquely for The Who, that\u2019s true.<\/p>\n<p><strong>29. Heat Wave<\/strong> (from A Quick One, 1966)<\/p>\n<p>Blues, R&amp;B, surf and soul were staples of The Who\u2019s early live sets, but Martha &amp; The Vandellas\u2019 1963 hit was one of the few of their covers to make it onto record. And Motown\u2019s summer stormer is perfect for the three instrumentalists\u2019 rumbly thunder. I came closest to this when briefly and unexpectedly deputising for the tardy Moon at the Newbury Corn Exchange on May 20, 1966, Heat Wave being one of the songs I helped on, if memory serves. What struck most: the angry drive of Townshend\u2019s rhythm; the wonderfully LOUD response from Moon\u2019s brilliantly tuned Premier kit.<\/p>\n<p><strong>28. Tattoo<\/strong> (from The Who Sell Out, 1967)<\/p>\n<p>A Ray Davies-like tale of two young brothers grappling with notions of masculinity and getting themselves inked to prove their manliness. In place of machismo, however, there\u2019s a very English sense of melancholy (\u201cI\u2019ll expect I\u2019ll regret you\u201d), a dash of music hall knockabout and a surreal oddness that so often lurks beneath The Who\u2019s surface.<\/p>\n<p><strong>27. A Legal Matter<\/strong> (from My Generation, 1965)<\/p>\n<p>A blackly comic rock\u2019n\u2019roller with a tingling riff and more than a hint of The Rolling Stones\u2019 The Last Time, A Legal Matter parts with the beat wave\u2019s adolescent romance agenda to offer a jaundiced take on its conventional aftermath: marriage. In his first recorded lead vocal, Townshend bemoans this tedious state (\u201cmarryin\u2019s no fun\u201d) in a funny American accent and legs it up the road, chased by Nicky Hopkins\u2019 rinky-dinky, Keystone Cops piano. Was Roger\u2019s already-wobbling first marriage to Jackie Rickman in Pete\u2019s mind?<\/p>\n<p><strong>\u00a026. So Sad About Us<\/strong> (from A Quick One, 1966)<\/p>\n<p>First heard as the follow-up to The Merseys\u2019 Top 5 hit Sorrow \u2013 a now forgotten version with a rather stiff Kit Lambert production \u2013 The Who\u2019s superior rendition was therefore overlooked as a single, yet still sounds like a smash hit waiting to happen. Subsequently, it became one of Townshend\u2019s most covered songs, perhaps because it\u2019s one of his least self-conscious, sounding effortless and exuberant \u2013 all la-la-la\u2019s and chiming guitars \u2013 with just enough melancholy to give it bite.<\/p>\n<p><strong>25. Bargain<\/strong> (from Who\u2019s Next, 1971)<\/p>\n<p>Rockers praising God was in the air in \u201971. Meher Baba disciple Pete yearned to lose the ego and baggage standing between him and the divine spirit, yet good works counted too \u2013 funded by hits. Bargain is a tremendous trade-off: heartfelt lyric\/street-level title; Pete\u2019s gentle cameo\/Roger bullishly everywhere else; the ARP synth and acoustic bits\/Pete\u2019s heavy-rockabilly aggression on his Gretsch Chet Atkins; the reflective melodic undertow\/the Moon-Entwistle engine slamming through the gears. Deal!<\/p>\n<p><strong>24. Circles<\/strong> (Substitute B-side, 1966)<\/p>\n<p>Round and round and round. Intended as an A-side, briefly a B-side, then another B-side under the title Instant Party, then issued on 1966\u2019s Ready Steady Who EP, Circles fell foul of The Who\u2019s quarrel with producer Shel Talmy but deserves its place in the sun. Bridging My Generation\u2019s maximum R&amp;B and The Who Sell Out\u2019s warped pop art, its reverby vocals and wigged-out instrumental break catch the group about to turn on and tune in, but just stopping short. As ever they would.<\/p>\n<p><strong>23. I\u2019m Free<\/strong> (from Tommy, 1969)<\/p>\n<p>Scourge of Moonie, who couldn\u2019t quite grasp those sections welded by an odd, teetering time signature, adapted, Townshend said, from the Stones\u2019 Street Fighting Man. So Townshend and Entwistle played snare, hi-hat and tambourine; Moon took over for the fills. Celebrating his escape from physical and emotional entrapment, a spiritually awakened Daltrey\/Tommy rejoices \u2013 \u201cfreedom tastes of reality\u201d \u2013 and beckons on his fans\/followers. In the film and 1970s setlists, I\u2019m Free is sequenced right after Smash The Mirror, earlier than on the LP. Its fade revisits the Pinball Wizard intro.<\/p>\n<p><strong>22. Boris The Spider<\/strong> (from A Quick One, 1966)<\/p>\n<p>John Entwistle dashed off this operatic, Lord Sutch-style gig favourite after a boozy night inventing comedy animal names with Bill Wyman. But just as Freud argued, \u201cfear of spiders expresses dread of mother-incest and horror of the female genitals,\u201d the song crosses the line from spooky novelty to psychopathy, with the transfixed narrator identifying with the scuttling, hairy house spider, who hangs by a thread and is \u201cas scared as me\u201d. Boris ends up the hapless victim, but what does this say about Entwistle\u2019s mind? And where\u2019s PETA when you need them?<\/p>\n<p><strong>21. The Seeker<\/strong> (single, 1970)<\/p>\n<p>In 1971, Townshend appraised The Seeker harshly: \u201cI like this the least of all.\u201d More recently, Daltrey declared it the first Who song he thought \u201cpretentious\u201d \u2013 which suggests he wasn\u2019t fully paying attention during Tommy. The song\u2019s atypical modesty is key to its appeal, as Moon and Entwistle take the down home chug as an affront to their dramatic capabilities. Meanwhile, the Meher Baba-dazzled author calls out rival gurus (\u201cI asked Bobby Dylan\u2026 I asked The Beatles\u201d), and naturally Roger sings like only he knows what it all means.<\/p>\n<p>[\/et_pb_text][et_pb_image src=&#8221;https:\/\/flatplan-plus-content.s3.eu-west-1.amazonaws.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/7\/2025\/04\/7_Quadrophenia.jpg&#8221; title_text=&#8221;7_Quadrophenia&#8221; _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; hover_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221; sticky_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243;][\/et_pb_image][et_pb_text _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; hover_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221; sticky_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243;]<\/p>\n<p><strong>20. I\u2019m One<\/strong> (from Quadrophenia, 1973)<\/p>\n<p>Townshend has claimed that what many love about The Who are its polar opposites. There\u2019s \u201cwimpy little Townshend\u201d writing the songs, he explained, but \u201cthe guy singing them could beat your brains out.\u201d Quadrophenia\u2019s I\u2019m One is all the more affecting because it\u2019s the wimp doing the writing and the singing, Townshend both as the LP\u2019s hero Jimmy and his younger self, trying to fit in with the cooler kids and prove himself.<\/p>\n<p><strong>19. Who Are You<\/strong> (single, 1978)<\/p>\n<p>The Who\u2019s greatest \u2018Christ! I\u2019m hungover\u2026 what happened last night?\u2019 song, Who Are You was written after Townshend literally woke up drunk in a Soho doorway after a particularly brutal drinking session. It\u2019s also one of the best examples of The Who\u2019s fidgety power and nervous dynamism, stumbling staggering through its differing sections as if it might combust at any moment.<\/p>\n<p><strong>18. Armenia (City In The Sky)<\/strong> (from The Who Sell Out, 1967)<\/p>\n<p>The Who Sell Out\u2019s intense opener is famously anomalous: the only Who \u2018original\u2019 written by someone outside of the group \u2013 specifically, Pete Townshend\u2019s chauffeur and \u201caide-de-camp\u201d, John \u2018Speedy\u2019 Keen (later of Thunderclap Newman and Something In The Air fame). Not that you\u2019d know it: Armenia sounds authentically Townshend with its backwards-tracked guitars and atmospheric, woozy organ passages. Vocally, there are echoes of The Beatles\u2019 Tomorrow Never Knows \u2013 both melodically and lyrically \u2013 matching rare whimsy to The Who\u2019s muscular power.<\/p>\n<p><strong>17. Love, Reign O\u2019er Me<\/strong> (from Quadrophenia, 1973)<\/p>\n<p>It\u2019s illustrative. Bobby McFerrin wrote Don\u2019t Worry, Be Happy with reference to the teachings of Meher Baba. Inspired by the same guru, Pete Townshend penned this storm-soaked, post-breakdown moment of personal realisation set on a rock in the English Channel (Quadrophenia\u2019s Jimmy sets sail in a stolen boat at the end of Townshend\u2019s original libretto). Although it\u2019s \u201cPete\u2019s Theme\u201d, it\u2019s the oomph provided by Daltrey\u2019s vocal acrobatics \u2013 well outside his comfort range \u2013 that swells this swirling epic to a peak.<\/p>\n<p><strong>16. Pictures Of Lily<\/strong> (single, 1967)<\/p>\n<p>Townshend\u2019s tale of a lad who gets a vaudeville pin-up from his dad to help resolve adolescent frustration, starts as a rather charming male rite-of-passage. This being Pete, though, things get Oedipal when the lad falls in love with his \u2018Lily\u2019, only to be told \u201c\u2026don\u2019t be silly\/She\u2019s been dead since 1929.\u201d The resolution comes in his dreams, where they can be together, and a lovely minor chord chorus that chimes with the song\u2019s relative innocence in an era of readily available internet porn. Eh, Pete?<\/p>\n<p><strong>15. The Kids Are Alright<\/strong> (from My Generation, 1965)<\/p>\n<p>It seems so promising \u2013 ace faces dancing with each other\u2019s girls in some Soho basement, knowing the \u201960s have begun. But the title needs a question mark: the early Who roughness is plaintive, better to express a restless young narrator weighing up escaping his marriage, the titular \u201ckids\u201d referring to his offspring at home whom he hopes will be fine without him (\u201cI know if I don\u2019t, I\u2019ll go out of my mind\u201d). To neck or not to neck the French Blues? Even Moonie\u2019s crashing drums sound ruminative.<\/p>\n<p><strong>14. See Me, Feel Me<\/strong> (single, 1970)<\/p>\n<p>Initially contained within Tommy\u2019s closing track, We\u2019re Not Going To Take It, before its iconic, sunrise moment at Woodstock upgraded it to single status, See Me, Feel Me ends the opera on a surprisingly upbeat note, despite the eponymous hero\u2019s loss of his army of acolytes. A vaguely mystical positivism and plain old happy-ending vibes combine, with thunderous drums, stretched vocal cords and chiming guitars building to a moment of a sky-bursting magnificence.<\/p>\n<p><strong>13. I\u2019m A Boy<\/strong> (single, 1966)<\/p>\n<p>Mentor Pete Meaden envisaged The Who as a blokes\u2019 band. Hip to the Mods\u2019 love of display and \u2013 by 1966, the year of Twiggy \u2013 encroaching unisex styles, Townshend turned that on its head with one of the era\u2019s more peculiar hits. Cherubic, conciliatory harmonies are undone by a lyric embroiled in gender angst, Townshend taunting, \u201chead case\u201d Daltrey exploding: a fascinating fragment of Pete\u2019s first (thwarted) rock opera, Quads.<\/p>\n<p><strong>12. Pinball Wizard<\/strong> (single, 1969)<\/p>\n<p>Townshend called it his \u201cmost clumsy piece of writing\u201d, a Gustav Holst-influenced quick fix inspired by journalist Nik Cohn\u2019s assertion that the rock opera conceit needed humanising. Never mind pinball king Tommy, it was Pete\u2019s supple wrists that were all-important \u2013 his indelible acoustic intro sequence, electric power chords and the space that allowed Daltrey to reinvent himself as a haloed frontman.<\/p>\n<p><strong>11. Young Man Blues<\/strong> (from Live At Leeds, 1970)<\/p>\n<p>While Tommy was being created for a new era where albums were overtaking singles and live sets were growing to keep pace with hair-length, Townshend was on a mission to educate America in rock\u2019s R&amp;B roots. \u201cRock\u2019n\u2019roll is their fucking music, and they know less about it than we do!\u201d he said. \u201cIn the \u201960s I went to America and I lectured them. I\u2019d say, \u2018Do you listen to fucking rhythm and blues? Do you know who John Lee Hooker is? Do you really think that rock\u2019n\u2019roll is Jefferson fucking Airplane\u2026?\u2019 The incendiary version of Young Man Blues by Mose Allison which kicked off the original 37-minute Live At Leeds was surely all the education anyone needed.<\/p>\n<p>[\/et_pb_text][et_pb_image src=&#8221;https:\/\/flatplan-plus-content.s3.eu-west-1.amazonaws.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/7\/2025\/04\/The_Who_5_15_Front_.jpg&#8221; title_text=&#8221;The_Who_5_15_Front_&#8221; _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; hover_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221; sticky_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243;][\/et_pb_image][et_pb_text _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; hover_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221; sticky_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243;]<\/p>\n<p><strong>10. 5.15<\/strong> (single, 1973)<\/p>\n<p>Conceived in Oxford Street and Carnaby Street between appointments and written and recorded in the studio on the same day, 5.15 tracks Quadrophenia\u2019s pill-popping protagonist Jimmy\u2019s journey to Brighton. Over a barrage of rock bluster \u2013 blaring horns by Entwistle, romping piano played by Joe Cocker sessioneer Chris Stainton, clattering percussion, crash-bang-wallop guitar \u2013 Daltrey roars the hall of mirrors horror of Jimmy\u2019s wrung-out mind. When issued as the album\u2019s only single in the UK, it just scraped into the Top 20. What can possibly have scared the pop kids away?<\/p>\n<p><strong>9. Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere<\/strong> (single, 1965)<\/p>\n<p>After the so-called \u201ccommercial number\u201d I Can\u2019t Explain, Townshend said in May 1965 that \u201cwe wanna show what we\u2019re really trying to do.\u201d And how. Sandwiched between teenbeat verses was a revolution in sound so shocking that the group\u2019s US label assumed the master was faulty. Channelling Link Wray, Charlie Parker, Gustav Metzger and belligerent Modness, this was cultural warfare fronted by feedback. \u201cPop art,\u201d claimed Kit Lambert. \u201cSpiritual,\u201d reckoned Pete T. When John Cale returned to New York with a copy, The Velvet Underground knew exactly what to do.<\/p>\n<p><strong>8. I Can See For Miles<\/strong> (single, 1967)<\/p>\n<p>The lyrics are simple enough: a young man knows his girlfriend\u2019s been unfaithful because he\u2019s seen her. The song-title\/chorus might merely be grand hyperbole, born of rage. But from that seismic punch and rumble intro, into those pure electric waves of guitar, bass \u2018n\u2019 drums that continually crash over Daltrey\u2019s heavenly vocals (tweaked with echo at Hollywood\u2019s Gold Star Studios), the song is transformed into a pulsing beatific high of psychedelic exultation (\u201cThe Eiffel Tower and the Taj Mahal are mine to see on clear days!\u201d) that, as it fades off into infinity, becomes the most euphoric \u201cfuck you\u201d in pop history.<\/p>\n<p><strong>7. The Real Me<\/strong> (from Quadrophenia, 1973)<\/p>\n<p>Townshend\u2019s original demo is a slinky affair, but in the hands of The Who, it\u2019s transformed into the essence of heroism, underpinned by Entwistle\u2019s propulsive bassline (improvised on his newly acquired Gibson Thunderbird), Keith Moon\u2019s atomic drum parts and Townshend\u2019s own hooligan power chords, while Daltrey\u2019s raucous vocal adds genuine mania to Jimmy\u2019s suspicions of hereditary madness. It wasn\u2019t the first time Townshend asked the song\u2019s central question, and it wouldn\u2019t be the last.<\/p>\n<p><strong>6. I Can\u2019t Explain<\/strong> (single, 1965)<\/p>\n<p>Arriving at Pye Studios to record his own song as his newly rechristened band\u2019s first single, Pete Townshend is disgruntled to find producer Shel Talmy has hired Jimmy Page and vocal trio The Ivy League to guarantee viable product. But intrigue over its personnel evaporates within seconds, as Townshend\u2019s six Rickenbacker slashes propel I Can\u2019t Explain beyond R&amp;B and into the realm of art. While The Beatles sang about love, The Who dealt in confusion \u2013 a quality that would define them permanently.<\/p>\n<p><strong>5. Behind Blue Eyes<\/strong> (from Who\u2019s Next, 1971)<\/p>\n<p>A portrait song for Jumbo, the autocratic head of Lifehouse\u2019s fictional media conglomerate and director of enforced shared culture. Behind Blue Eyes is a beautifully sung ballad that breaks with Moonie crashing in as Pete snarls: \u201cIf my fist clenches, crack it open\u2026\u201d a line he wrote after being tempted \u2013 in vain \u2013 by a groupie in Denver, 1970. Pete\u2019s battle to stay strong is the inverse of Jumbo\u2019s; isolated and possibly misunderstood, he struggles to maintain the steely core necessary for a career in tyranny.<\/p>\n<p><strong>4. Substitute<\/strong> (single, 1966)<\/p>\n<p>As with Seaton\u2019s rebellious declaration, The Who\u2019s March 1966 single confounds with contrariness. Driven by a bass riff copped from Robb Storme &amp; The Whispers\u2019 Where Is My Girl, Substitute is an impersonation about impersonation, a 19th Nervous Breakdown parody (\u201cI see right through your plastic mac\u201d) that skewers the Stones\u2019 persona (\u201cI look all white\/But my dad was black\u201d), strips it of Jagger misogyny, and, with every Moon drum fill, mushrooms into a sneering metaphor for the shallow artifice of every stage-managed \u201960s pop band. Including The Who.\u00a0<\/p>\n<p><strong>3. Won\u2019t Get Fooled Again<\/strong> (from Who\u2019s Next, 1971)<\/p>\n<p>Hailed by the National Review as the apogee of conservative rock, but also cited in Time as an \u201canti-war anthem\u201d, Won\u2019t Get Fooled Again proves the ultimate gauge of a protest song\u2019s efficacy \u2013 appropriation by both sides. Its conflicted emotions, conveyed by music perpetually on the brink of explosion, manifest the thrill of The Who\u2019s ingrained intellectual\/activist joust: Townshend\u2019s ambivalence, never more pointedly expressed than \u201cMeet the new boss\/Same as the old boss\u201d, undercut by Daltrey\u2019s screaming, street-fighting man.<\/p>\n<p><strong>2. My Generation<\/strong> (single, 1964)<\/p>\n<p>A cyclone of anger, frustration and arrogance in which post-war Britain found its voice. Pete Townshend joked that when he wrote \u201cold\u201d in My Generation he meant \u201crich\u201d, but 60 years later the song still hasn\u2019t left The Who\u2019s live set. Punk before punk, it helped empower a generation, and made possible many exciting things to come. However, perhaps its greatest achievement was to convince The Who that being \u2019orrible would be no impediment to success.<\/p>\n<p>[\/et_pb_text][et_pb_image src=&#8221;https:\/\/flatplan-plus-content.s3.eu-west-1.amazonaws.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/7\/2025\/04\/6_Who_sNext.jpg&#8221; title_text=&#8221;6_Who_sNext&#8221; _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; hover_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221; sticky_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243;][\/et_pb_image][et_pb_text _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; hover_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221; sticky_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243;]<\/p>\n<p><strong>1. Baba O\u2019 Riley<\/strong> (from Who\u2019s Next, 1971)<\/p>\n<p>Salvaged from wreckage of Lifehouse, Baba O\u2019Riley was \u2013 so Pete Townshend told journalist John Swanson in 1971 \u2013 originally 30 minutes long, an epic sweep taking in a turnip farmer called Ray, ecological disaster, a nation imprisoned in sci-fi \u2018experience\u2019 suits, a proto internet called The Grid and much, much more. Truncated to a mere five minutes for Who\u2019s Next, one doesn\u2019t need to know or understand the guitarist\u2019s lofty conceptual ambitions to feel the force of Baba O\u2019Riley (and lord knows his bandmates didn\u2019t). From the twiddly intro inspired by composer Terry Riley (who along with Townshend\u2019s spiritual guru Meher Baba gives the song its title) to the coda\u2019s frenetic cosmic spin, it presented rock music as spiritual transcendence. The Who\u2019s masterpiece, regardless of what they\u2019re actually singing about.\u00a0<\/p>\n<p>[\/et_pb_text][et_pb_divider color=&#8221;#111111&#8243; module_class=&#8221;custom-divider&#8221; _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; custom_margin=&#8221;||0px||false|false&#8221; custom_padding=&#8221;||0px||false|false&#8221; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221;][\/et_pb_divider][et_pb_text _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; hover_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221; sticky_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243;]<\/p>\n<p><strong>Compiled by:<\/strong> Phil Alexander, Geoff Brown, Jenny Bulley, Keith Cameron, Chris Catchpole, Danny Eccleston, Pat Gilbert, Ian Harrison, Jim Irwin, Alan Light, Andrew Male, Mark Paytress, Mat Snow, Paul Stokes, Lois Wilson<\/p>\n<p><strong>Images:<\/strong> Getty \u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n<p>[\/et_pb_text][et_pb_divider color=&#8221;#111111&#8243; module_class=&#8221;custom-divider&#8221; _builder_version=&#8221;4.20.4&#8243; _module_preset=&#8221;default&#8221; custom_margin=&#8221;||0px||false|false&#8221; custom_padding=&#8221;||0px||false|false&#8221; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; theme_builder_area=&#8221;post_content&#8221;][\/et_pb_divider][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>The Who\u2019s 50 Greatest SongsMOJO\u2019s rundown of The Who\u2019s best ever tracksSTARTING LIFE AS\u00a0R&amp;B-playing Mods, The Who quickly transformed into rule-breaking pioneers, perverting, distorting or ignoring the accepted rock tenets. John Entwistle\u2019s bass and Keith Moon\u2019s drums became lead instruments, vying for attention with Pete Townshend\u2019s guitar, which he\u2019d bash and trash to create an [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":13,"featured_media":2311,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_et_pb_use_builder":"on","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","_lmt_disableupdate":"","_lmt_disable":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2301","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-mojo-presents"],"acf":[],"modified_by":"akindell","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/flatplanplus.io\/mojo\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2301","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/flatplanplus.io\/mojo\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/flatplanplus.io\/mojo\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/flatplanplus.io\/mojo\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/13"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/flatplanplus.io\/mojo\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2301"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/flatplanplus.io\/mojo\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2301\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2324,"href":"https:\/\/flatplanplus.io\/mojo\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2301\/revisions\/2324"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/flatplanplus.io\/mojo\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2311"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/flatplanplus.io\/mojo\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2301"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/flatplanplus.io\/mojo\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2301"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/flatplanplus.io\/mojo\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2301"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}