THE WHO, now probably rock’s most venerable group, still remain an explosive unit especially when in the kind of angry fighting mood they displayed at the Wembley Empire Pool last night.

Their powerful invigorating performance put aside for a moment the big problem that currently faces both the group and rock music in general.

This revolves around finding some new meaning after all that has gone before; somehow finding a way to recreate the original idealism and spontaneity that will ensure rock music will remain an active form of self-expressionism, and not just mere entertainment.

In the case of The Who this dilemma has caused much heart-searching over the past few years. They have often appeared shackled by the past, mainly Tommy, and yet proud of it at the same time as on their last but one album Quadrophenia, a paen to the mods.

Last night they once again relied heavily on old material, playing hardly anything from their last two albums. But their power and spirit made this effectively irrelevant.

The wild reaction from a youngish audience proved The Who still have a long way to go before they become yesterday’s heroes. Each individual in the band has mastered his role to the exact detail and this technique is enhanced by a constantly high level of commitment and an ever-present undercurrent of violence.

This showed last night when drummer Keith Moon swore at anybody who remained in their seats and guitarist, writer and intellect of the group Pete Townshend came out with equally colourful language in addressing the security men and the Sunday Times. The latter had displeased Townshend by describing The Who recently as his group and he abruptly told the audience not to buy the paper in future.

On a musical level the classic Who singles like Substitute, I Can’t Explain, Won’t Get Fooled Again and a smouldering version of My Generation proved the most ferociously memorable.