A sun-drenched day of music leads up to The Who concert

Steve Campbell / Chronicle

Trish Dryer sits on Mike Wright's shoulders during Stevie Ray Vaughan's set outdoors.

John Davenport / Chronicle

Jimmy Vaughan, right, and Kim Wilson of the Fabulous Thunderbirds had a good time Saturday afternoon.

John Davenport / Chronicle

A couple celebrates receiving a cooling dose of water.

John Davenport / Chronicle

Randy Quaid and members of The Who present a guitar to Texas Special Olympics athlete Kevin Maples at a press conference before the concert Saturday.

Who

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Joy and relief from all they have given.

The entire indoor affair was impressive for the crowd, a virtual sellout of some 45,000-47,000. Second act Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble received a huge, heartfelt response in what had to be one of the largest gatherings Vaughan has ever faced — and this just a few miles from some of the nightclubs where he prowled as a struggling bluesman in the early part of the decade.

This was Vaughan's first Houston appearance in two years, seven months — about as long as he's been clean from drugs, and as his set closed with Texas Flood, Superstition, Cold Shot and Voodoo Chile (Slight Return), the throng called him back for a rare opening act encore.

The word backstage was that Vaughan hadn't planned an encore but that Who tour promoter Bill Graham stood in the wings and directed Vaughan on a U-turn back to the stage. He replied with a rockin', shufflin' Look At Little Sister.

As promised, The Who entered at 8:45 p.m. to their tour overture, the theme from the old Bonanza TV series.

They opened with Substitute, I Can See For Miles (one of the weaker songs) and, with Townshend on electric guitar (which appeared to be a Stratocaster), a slow-burning, rumbling I'm A Man, the Bob Didley classic that Who recorded for the 1965 English-version album, My Generation, on Virgin Records, now a collector's item.

Townshend announced Tommy by introducing "a few songs we're not bored with yet" — clearly, the LA Tommy presentation put this rock operatic rest for the band — and they skimmed through the Overture, Amazing Journey, Pinball Wizard, We're Not Gonna Take It and See Me, Feel Me. Omitted from earlier stadium dates were The Acid Queen and I'm Free.

They returned to Baba O'Riley, a rave-up on which Townshend danced and Daltrey played harmonica, then barreled into one of Townshend's better solo efforts, the linear, danceable Face The Face, from his 1985 White City LP.

From there, with Townshend on acoustic guitar, the set sagged through a halting Entwistle tune, Boris The Spider, and the obscure 1967 cut, Mary-Anne with the Shaky Hands. Even 5:15, one of The Who's overlooked, underestimated gems, sounded flat.

They pulled out of it with Love Reign O’er Me. Townshend returned to electric and sang the tumbling Rough Boys, which led into a furious combination to close the regular set, Join Together, You Better You Bet, Behind Blue Eyes and Won't Get Fooled Again. Except for the absence of My Wife and Sister Disco, it was the identical final sequence used

John Davenport / Chronicle

Security personnel hose down the hot crowd.

As promised, The Who entered at 8:45 p.m. to their tour overture, the theme from the old Bonanza TV series.

On the rest of the tour.

The obligatory encore ran through the Real Me, Hey Joe and another surprise, Creedence Clearwater's Born On The Bayou, probably inserted for Houston, on which Daltrey sang and played acoustic guitar while Townshend worked out on electric.

Who Are You closed it out.

Overall, Daltrey's voice sounded a little worse for the tour's wear, but Townshend compensated with an antic-laden performance in which he bantered with the crowd, windmilled trademark power chords (despite a hand injury incurred several weeks ago on the same motion) and jumped around like the clown prince of rock who leaves his serious side in the dressing room.

The horn section, congas and background vocals — arranged were

six weeks in the rehearsal stage prior to the tour — were used judiciously, but in pure musical terms the new heroes were Entwistle, whose willowy, vibrating bass lines ran circles around the songs and integrated into rhythm and melody with stirring precision; Simon Phillips, a drummer in the torrential, madcap mold of Keith Moon, whose cascading beats thoroughly dramatized the music; and keyboardist John "Rabbit" Bundrick, a Houston native — yes — and 10-year Who veteran whose piano and organ fills colored any sound that moved with lush pulsations.

The tour closed in Dallas Sunday. From there the band is expected to play several British dates and then ponder offers from a variety of countries.

Thus they closed a chapter of rock history in the States. It's the end of an era, a quarter century of British rock that started with the "mods" and ended in the lap of the American mass audience.

In a way I hope never to see them again, for it was a grand way to out.