A lethal wit, a stubborn idealism, a wounded heart, a teeming mind and a nose that invites insult. He could be Cyrano de Bergerac, but was christened Peter Dennis Blandlord Townshend.

Trashed guitars were his calling cards as a young man. Fine inns were reluctant to shelter him and his carnal recklessness often required remedy by penicillin. His rage found expression in music and when that failed, he used his fists. He elevated vandalism to the level of an art.