Close, But No Center Cluster

Precarious?

“Yo?”

Did you do this?

“I consulted.”

What the fuck is it?

“The Who.”

Who?

“Right.”

What?

…

“I have work to do if you wanna play your little Abbot and Costello games.”

Sorry.

“The band. The Who. I know some of the guys in the crew over there, and they called me. Wanted a Wall.”

Did you tell them how bad an idea that was?

“Started to, but then they mentioned the money and I just shut the fuck up and built the limey bastards a Wall.”

I gotta be honest, man: it doesn’t look so hot. It looks like you took the Wall of Sound and played the Telephone game with the blueprints for a while, and then got high and stacked shit on top of other shit.

“About right. I told ’em that there was more to a Wall than just speakers and scaffolding. I mean: there’s math involved, for Christ’s sake. I don’t do the numbers, but someone has to.”

And what did they say?

“Tell you the truth, I can’t understand a word those people say.”

Sure.

“And if we’re continuing the honesty, the lights had a much higher priority than the sound.

I see that. And isn’t the point of the Wall to be behind the band?

“Listen: it was a trans-Atlantic phone call in 1975. Plus like I said: I cannot make heads or tails out of the sounds emanating from their teaholes. I understood ‘Hello, Precarious,’ and the next sentence was ‘Harble barble chuzza wuzza wacko jacko,’ and it got worse from there.”

Gotcha.