Roger Daltrey described his relationship with fellow Who band mates as very close. Then, with a wry laugh, he added, "It's like being married to three very ugly wives."

If that's true, then Daltrey is now something of a widower. We may assume that the June 27 Las Vegas death of bassist John Entwistle of a heart attack caused by cocaine use — one night before The Who's comeback tour — was a loss on many levels for Daltrey.

His fingers flying wildly up and down the neck of his guitar as he ably kept time with the frenetic Keith Moon, Entwistle laid the melodic foundation of the band's multilayered sound. This sound will be played by another musician (bassist Pino Palladino), just as another drummer was able to fill in for Moon, the band's original drummer, who died of an accidental overdose in 1978. (For the current tour, Zak Starkey, son of Beatles legend Ringo Starr, will take to the drums.)

What can't be replaced is Entwistle's presence — the anchoring introvert in a band of flagrant extroverts. It was his contribution to the combined persona that ultimately defined The Who, which comes to Hersheypark Stadium Monday, July 29.

Now only two original members of The Who remain, and fans ask: Has The Who died with Entwistle? And how can Daltrey and Townshend — who grew up in the same middle-class London suburb with Entwistle and played and toured by his side on and off since 1963 — continue to play without him?

IN A PRETOUR phone interview in May with the Sunday News, Daltrey revealed his feelings about the first time the band lost one of its own, his own need to perform, and growing older in the rock 'n' roll spotlight.

Speaking from his home in England, Daltrey was gregarious, relaxed, and occasionally intense, as when he describing his relationship with his band mates.

"I've never had a brother, and Pete is like a brother to me. You have your fights, but the affection runs very, very deep."

The 2002 tour is the latest of several comeback tours for The Who, which has seen its share of sometimes public spats, usually between Daltrey and Townshend, who sometimes played out their disputes onstage. More rough-edged than the Beatles, more manic and acidic than the Stones, The Who of the '60s and '70s was well-known for its spirited stage shows — adrenaline fests that featured Townshend leaping across the stage and attacking his guitar with windmill-like swings of his arm; Daltrey swinging his microphone like a lasso; Moon frenetically pounding on his drums in a fury of activity, as Entwistle stood motionless, but for his flying fingers.

Concerts often ended with band members smashing their instruments—a practice that kept The Who in the red in the early years, but that whipped their fans in a frenzy. But it was The Who's attitude—that bristly, intelligent, clever persona—that was so crucial to the band's success. The Who gave voice to the feelings of an entire generation of the young.

How could a 57-year-old Daltrey go onstage and sing the lyrics of "My Generation" ("hope I die before I get old") today?

Completely unabashedly.

"I will approach these songs as though they are brand-new songs, and I'll play them according to how I feel about them today," he says.

"Your emotions change as you get into middle age. It would be a very sad life if someone lived 57 years and didn't learn something along the way. All that living comes out in the performance. The trick is not becoming like a pastiche of yourself—not falling into that trap.

"I feel just as passionately as I did when I was a teen-ager, but the feelings are more complex. It isn't as black and white."

Is this the same chest-baring, microphone-swinging rock star who patented the famous Daltrey scream? Who bared his bottom for the world to see in Ken Russell's movie "Lisztomania"? Has Roger Daltrey lost his edge? Will he next be talking about pipe tobacco and aluminum siding?

Not on your life.

When asked about the current music scene, Daltrey is the same anti-establishment bad boy that he ever was: "I don't like the corporate music scene; it's so prefabricated. I like music when it's …" he pauses for effect, "… dangerous."

THE COMPANIES, HE continues, growing more animated, "have learned how to manage the music side of it. It's prefabricated, really. It's not the kind of music that I like. The last good thing that came around was the grunge thing, Nirvana, those bands. The kind of music that makes people go, 'What the f-k is that?' But the music companies, they don't want to hear that.

"There aren't many bands whose first record was a major hit — the Stones, and even the Beatles' first record wasn't really huge. The Who's first record wasn't a big hit. Groups today don't get much of a chance; it's one record, and then you're out."

"We never would have made it today."

Indeed, The Who's sales in the early days were not exactly impressive. But it wasn't just luck and kindlier ways at the record companies that brought success.

The Who's triumphal appearance at the benefit concert for victims of the September 11 attacks, held Oct. 20 at New York's Madison Square Garden, proves it. Sharing the stage with fellow rock icons Paul McCartney, David Bowie, Mick Jagger and Billy Joel, The Who ripped into a searing set that included Townshend's classic "Won't Get Fooled Again," "Baba O'Reilley" and "Who Are You" — and dominated the show.

In addition to being a fine performance, it was also a moving one for Daltrey.

"There are so many things that have happened in my career that I can point to and say, 'That was a great moment,' but last year at Madison Square Garden might be the most humbling, emotional experience of my life. The whole thing has been a dream.

"Looking out into that audience, and seeing the firefighters out