John Entwistle: The Ox Box Set. Box Set Review.

Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 9/10

In a band of four exceptionally strong personalities and absolute proficiency, no matter what was produced in combination someone was always going to feel relegated, to be almost pushed aside in the pecking order. It is not a new sensation for anyone filled with creativity, George Harrison after all felt the burden so much that he famously quit whilst on camera during the filming of a Beatles’ documentary; so it perhaps is no wonder that the man credited as one of the finest bass players to ever perform on stage, The Who’s John Entwistle, found himself relieving his artistic tension by becoming the first of his own musical clan to delve into his own ferocious talent and come up with a solo album of pure gold.

John Entwistle’s untimely, and yet arguably perhaps the most rock and roll of all, passing at the start of the 21st Century no doubt robbed fans of the band of the chance to enjoy three original members on stage as the opportunity arose of a new resurgence in appreciation of the sound that powered the world; and it also brought to an end the belief that the respected musician might ever grace the senses of the listening public of a solo career that in many ways outshone both Roger Daltrey’s and Pete Townshend own prestige at the time.

The Ox Box Set is one of the most exciting and fiercely imagined releases of 2024, the sheer brilliance of the man nicknamed Thunderfingers is sewn into every crevice of a decade’s worth of music, and whilst the final album he recorded in the short-lived John Entwistle Band is sadly missing, the sense of near completion is astonishing.

From the 1971 release of Smash Your Head Against The Wall and through to 1996’s The Rock, the technical aspect is matched by the in depth bonus tracks that caress the times in which the music was recorded in; and when the listener considers that the first five were captured and represented during a period in which the seismic Who album of Quadrophenia surrounded the band, and the death of Keith Moon robbed the beating heart and part of the frenetic pace out of the passionate understanding; it is almost unbelievable in just how sublime albums such as Whistle Rhymes, Rigor Mortis Sets In, and Mad Dog still are fifty years after their original release.

In a world where it feels as though individuality has been erased by the dollar men concerned with homogeny and vanity driven identical puppets, to hear John Entwistle in his pomp and anger is to feel a passion stirring in your own soul once more. This is the solo history of a giant who inspires and one who was never considered to be uniform; and like his band mates own solo offerings, this extension to the discography of The Who’s side projects is to be revered and loved.

Ian D. Hall