OAKLAND — From the beginning — as early as "I Can't Explain" in 1964 — The Who has been the teenagers friend and champion. And from the beginning of Sunday night's concert in the Oakland Coliseum — the last of three sold-out shows — The Who reaffirmed its stance and proved — as if it needed to — that it is one helluva rock'n'roll band.

From the mid-'60s onward, The Who managed to crystallize an almost total lifestyle in its songs, and this vision is as valid today as it was more than a decade ago. In the highly disposable world of rock where heroes are discarded almost as soon as they’re found and performers lose or abandon their original vision, The Who have hung on to theirs — the alternative youth culture, the Mod ethic: “Clean living under difficult circumstances.” The kids are all right, in other words.

THE WHO'S MUSIC doesn’t falsely glamorize the teen-age myth, but always exhibits a sense of optimism. The band's songs don't offer fool-proof solutions to the dilemmas of growing up, co-existence, self-realization, or any of the other traumas of surviving in the face of adversity. It does, however, indicate logical points of reference and the reassurance that someone — The Who — is on the side of youth.

"I was born with a plastic spoon in my mouth," the band sang in "Substitute," to open Sunday night's show. It was more than a throw-away line intended to catch a laugh. It was a statement, one the band continues to make: We’re not rich guys doing this for fun — there were no silver spoons in our mouths. We're just like you, poor and angry.

THROUGH "I CAN'T Explain" and “Baba O’Riley (Teen-age Wasteland),” the band asserted the teen ethic: “I don’t need to fight, to prove I’m right. I don't need to be forgiven.” The latter song perfectly exemplified The Who’s trademark — the ferocity of the visual impact of its stage act. Pete Townsend’s windmill attacks at the guitar and Roger Daltry’s full-force vocal delivery (mixed with some incredibly hot harmonica and athletic leaps that belied his years — 36, isn’t it? ) — were just the beginning. Townsend whirled like a dervish as the music disintegrated, and searchlights like the Sacramento County Sheriff's Department helicopter flashes in back yards combed the audience.

Daltry’s performance the whole set (all 95 minutes of it without a break) was incredible.

TOWNSEND'S FLUTTERY solo on "Who Are You" was punctuated by deep, stinging notes and set on edge by sharp ones from the electric piano. There was a haunting echo of "Who are you? Who? Who?” behind the vocal, and Daltry's running in place and singing full tilt, visually created the search for identity, the constant seeking, and the desperation, that the song conveyed.

The band had performed for an hour before it

Concert Review

launched into "Pinball Wizard" from “Tommy,” but when it did, the crowd went wild. From there the band went immediately into “My Generation,” “I Can See for Miles,” “Sparks” (from “Tommy”), and “Won’t Get Fooled Again.”

“SPARKS” WAS THE undisputed high spot of the evening. It brought the audience rushing toward the stage, jamming the main floor aisles. This is an unusual response to an instrumental number, but “Sparks” is a special piece of music.

RHYTHM, TENSION AND energy have always been rock's three basic elements, and few have been able to combine the mix the way The Who has. Its music is angry, aggressive, assured, but never vicious. Its stage act is a marvel to behold. The four-man band was augmented by a keyboardist and a three-piece horn section (which added considerably to such tunes as “Music Must Change,” “5:15” and "I Can See For Miles.")

Roger Daltrey, Peter Townsend, and Kenny Jones lead The Who through one of their typical rockers.