First out of the window was the record player, disappearing into darkness before shattering as it hit the ground 12 storeys below.
Next came the chairs, a glass-topped table and pictures ripped from the walls. Then the TV, always a highlight, blasting into a thousand pieces like a small bomb.
Before the hotel management realised the contents of their luxury suite were being systematically hurled to destruction, the piece de resistance was being made ready.
A cherry bomb — a high-powered firework — strategically placed inside the toilet bowl in the suite’s bathroom was detonated with such violence that it blew the receptacle off the waste pipe.
‘When Keith died he was 32, but looked 60,’ said Who singer Roger Daltrey, who is working on a film of Moon’s life. ‘He really hammered it. When it came
Annette was brought into Keith Moon’s roller-coaster world without really having a say in the matter. But like so many other girls who met him and were bedded by him, s
he didn’t object. She was quite effortlessly wooed by his humour, his anecdotes, his warmth, his exuberance, and the constant flow of champagne. At the end of that first night, almost without thinking, certainly without complaint, she followed him back to Egerton Crescent, where Keith was occupying the top floors of Kit Lambert’s house. There was just one problem. He had another girl there.
As far as any such thing was ever ‘official’ in his life, Keith was still dating Joy Bang. But given that the ‘actress’ was flying back to America the next day, her holiday with Keith over, she had turned down the offer of one last night on the town in order to pack. She hadn’t expected him to move on to his next conquest quite so rapidly. Seeing that that was exactly what he had done, Joy exploded in anger, shouting and screaming and cursing Keith. As Moon remonstrated with the 
American, Annette cowered in the bedroom at the top of the house, wondering what she had let herself in for with this man ten years her elder who commanded such respect at Tramp as to get other people’s dates ejected and who could dare bring a girl home when he already had one waiting for him. She heard them fighting for what seemed like ages. Then it all went quiet. A while later, Keith came back upstairs.
“Sorry about that,” he apologised in his best upper-crust accent. “I just had to make love to her to shut her up.”Annette spluttered her response out without thinking. “Did you really? You’re probably tired then. You might want to go to sleep now.” He did. With Annette.
hammering himself, he was a professional.’
Even now, four decades later, the high life and fast times of Keith Moon provide a disturbingly graphic insight into the hedonistic Sixties and Seventies.
His reputation as rock’s most shocking son created an image of danger and recklessness that helped to make The Who one of the world’s most successful groups, selling more than 100 million records worldwide.
But it came at a huge price. ‘Keith lived his entire life as a fantasy,’ Daltrey said. ‘He was the funniest man I’ve ever known, but he was also the saddest. Once, when the noise from Keith’s room got particularly excessive one day, the Wilshire management cut off his electricity. Infuriated, Keith responded with a now famous course of action. He moved himself and his furniture out into the hallway, plugged his stereo into the sockets there and sat down in his armchair – naked. It was altogether easier for the hotel to let him return to his room to make a noise than invade everyone else’s personal space"
