Genuine excitement is becoming a rarity at rock concerts, but last night’s performance by the Who at Public Auditorium was something special, and everyone seemed to feel it. From the moment the who bounded onstage, they had the undivided attention of an enthusiastic and appreciative 10,000-member audience.

Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey were incredibly active in extramusical activities while Keith Moon and John Enthwhistle were kept busy holding things together. Townshend played guitar in every conceivable position, on stage and in midair, and Daltrey, as he sang and gyrated, exposed what I am told is the most beautiful male chest in the Western Hemisphere.

THE MUSIC ranged from their newest, on the LP “Who’s Next,” to old “High Numbers” songs like Marvin Gaye’s “Baby Don’t Do It.” Their best numbers were “Bargain,” “Won’t Get Fooled Again” and a phenomenal “See Me, Feel Me.” Everything sounded fresh and spontaneous, unlike many groups whose live performances of their hit songs are like copies of the record.

Their improvisations were musically well realized, and, in general, their playing was excellent.

IN ADDITION to standard rock instruments, the group used tapes of a VCSC organ and an ARP synthesiser, all of which were amplified so well that the mammoth auditorium was cut down to size by the sheer force of the sound.

The lighting, which included portable batteries of spots onstage and strobes scattered through the house, was far superior to what Clevelanders usually get — although it hardly qualified as a light show.

The audience was often skilfully manipulated by long retards, false endings and other milking techniques. But nobody seemed to mind, especially since the performers were enjoying themselves so much doing it.

TOWNSHEND ended the concert by destroying a guitar and a couple of speakers with his usual aplomb — a pretty good way of ensuring against the endless requests for encores which would otherwise have followed.

“We had a day off yesterday — it was horrible. Tonight we’ll play so hard that we’ll pound the wood out of the floor,” they said. Given another hour and forty-five minutes, they probably would have.