By WAYNE R. ROBINS
more than 20 years ago, the Who’s “Tommy"
has divided listeners into two camps: those who
admired the rock Opera’s ambition and grandeur, and
those who scoffed that the very phrase rock opera was
a pretentious oxymoron.
But when the Who performed “Tommy" on Tuesday
in a high-priced benefit at Radio City Music Hall, even
a skeptic had to be heartened at how well Pete Town-
shend’s improbable hourlong work about an abused
deaf, dumb and blind boy who finds transcendence
through pinball and revenge has stood the test of time.
If it was premature to call “Tommy" a masterpiece
then, there's no reason to withhold that endorsement
now.
That “Tommy" works at all is astonishing, consider-
ing the spiritual quest its composer was on when he
was pulling it together in the late 1960s. Townshend’s
inspirations included prayers to the benign guru Meh-
er Baba, numerous LSD trips, and tales of a spiritually
perfect race on another planet by one George Adam—
ski. By that measure, “Tommy” should have about as
much contemporary appeal as Carlos Castaneda or
Wavy Gravy.
Yet there was nothing dated or nostalgic about the
“Tommy" delivered Tuesday by the core of the Who—
Townshend, singer Roger Daltrey and bassist John
Entwistle—supplemented by a dozen other musicians
including a horn section and backup vocalists. This
mini-orchestra played briskly and sounded well-re-
hearsed.
(The Los Angeles performance of “Tommy" on Aug.
24 at the Universal Amphitheatre will be a more lavish
affair featuring guest turns by Elton John, Robert
Plant, Phil Collins and Billy Idol. Tickets, ranging from
$75 to $1,500, go on sale J uly 9 and will benefit chari-
ties for abused children and the Rock and Roll Hall of
Fame.)
There was no sign at Radio City of the well-publi-
cized depressive cynicism from the Who’s yin and
yang: Daltrey, in T—shirt and jeans, sang with force
and delight, while the black-suited Townshend,
dressed like a Dodge City undertaker, played with pas-
sion. His expression was inscrutable, as if performing
“Tommy" was helping him solve some longstanding
inner mystery.
N EW YORK—From the first time it was heard
he rock opera itself was streamlined: With the 10-
minute instrumental filler “Underture” deleted,
“Tommy" ran about as long as Def Leppard's “Hyste-
ria” album. Video screens flanked the stage, and slides
that unsuccessfully illustrated parts of the libretto
were flashed behind the musicians.
There were a few minor adjustments in the order of
the songs: “Pinball Wizard" came before “Do You
Think It’s Alright” and “Fiddle About"; “I'm Free”
was presented before ”Miracle Cure" and “Sensation,”
and “Welcome" has been deleted so that “Sensation"
goes right into “Tommy’s Holiday Camp” and the cli-
mactic “We're Not Gonna Take It!"
What makes “Tommy” work, though, is not the
spiritually tinged tale of struggle and redemption, al-
though the story line came through strongly enough
that one felt visceral contempt for Tommy’s tormen -
tor, the sadistic ”Cousin Kevin.” More important,
Townshend discovered an ingenious way—by subtle
repetition of melodic themes and savvy orchestral
transitions—of giving a unified structure to some of his
finest individual rock songs.
So within the framework of the fast-paced hour
Reuters
POPWSICREVIEW
AAAA
The Who—wz'th Roger Daltrey, left, Pete Townshend—pe'rforms rock opera “
came multiple detonations: the propulsive drive of
“Christmas" that ends with the elegiac “see me, feel
me, touch me, heal me" makes it the least obnoxious
spiritually fueled rock song ever written. ”I'm Free"
resonates as strongly now as a call for liberation as it
did a generation ago. “We're Not Gonna Take It!" with
its dramatic chorus, makes one want to take to the bar-
ricades.
If there is any emblem, though, of the validity of the
songs from “Tommy," it is “Pinball'Wizard.” In the
age of Nintendo, the song has even outlived the now-
antiquated activity it once celebrated.
Because “Tommy” was so short, the group—which
‘Tommy’ —The Wizardry Still Works
‘_'
Tommy” at Radio City.
headlines San Diego Jack Murphy Stadium on Aug. 22
and the Los Angeles Coliseum on Aug. 26—played a
greatest-hits set for the next hour and a half. The pri- ‘
mal stomp of “Can't Explain” and “Substitute," among
the Who’s earliest songs, had it all over later career di-
nosaur-gasps such as the insincere-sounding “Join
Together With the Band" and the trivial pop of “You
Better You Bet.” And a tune from Townshend’s cur-
rent solo album sounded like a weak Cat Stevens song.
But when Townshend wound up his arm for his
trademark windmill strum on “Won't Get Fooled
Again," all was forgiven.
Robins is pop and rock music critic for N ewsday.