THE WHO sings “See me, feel me, touch me, heal me” both in “Tommy” and “My Generation.” Well, I don’t know if we healed them on Monday night at the Berkeley Community Theater — it may have been the reverse. But we saw them, felt them and touched them.

The English quartet returned to the Bay Area after a year’s absence with a two hour and three minute concert that was absolutely staggering in its emotional and musical power. Absolutes are tempting but generally foolish, so I will not say they are the most exciting performing group in rock music today. The Stones, Hendrix, Beck, Led Zeppelin, Ten Years After, the Chambers Brothers, Janis — all are capable of arousing an audience to a genuine fever pitch when they are really wound up. But I don’t think there is another group which can accomplish this so easily, so consistently and extend it so long.

Who did 45 minutes of “Tommy,” bringing the show to an hour and a half, exhausting 3500 people, THEN did “Summertime Blues,” “Shaking All Over” and “My Generation” for 30 more minutes. It was simply phenomenal. “My Generation” was not an encore, really, they just closed the show with it. Only a minority wanted more. You can take just so much.

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RIG, a quartet out of New York and the Fillmore East Tuesday night auditions, opened the show. It was not an enviable position and they took a while to get moving.

The Who, bless them, are willing to sacrifice money for the relatively intimate (compared to the Oakland Coliseum Arena and the Cow Palace) surroundings of the B.C.T. Thus, they played Monday and Tuesday nights (last night was also sold out) to perhaps 7000 people, when they could have doubled that with one night at Oakland.

I had not seen them live since Monterey three years ago, and most of the audience had not seen them since “Tommy” became a rock legend, so anticipation was extremely high. Peter Townshend strolled on in his smudged white jump suit, Roger Daltrey — who could always make a living as a juggler if he ever gives up singing — uncoiled as befits a rock sex symbol, Keith Moon smuggled up to the drums like a mad elf and John Entwistle provided counterpoint with a stance that bent no more than his bass. Townshend unshackled his six Hiwatt amplifiers (they are carrying 4000 watts of power with them on this tour) and they exploded.

Beyond saying that, writing about their music is something of an exercise in futility. It need not be explained to those who were there, it cannot be explained to those who were not. If a single word can sum it, that word is shattering.

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TOWNSHED and Daltrey are, of course, great showmen — leaping and bounding to accent the music, Moon plays his little games without detracting from really brilliant drumming, and Entwistle just plays. The Who is tremendously loud, but other groups, including Cream, have played as loudly. Townshend is a brilliant guitarist, but others are as accomplished; Daltrey has emotional power but is not unique. The secret lies, I guess, in the unmeasurable solidarity of their minds with their music. That, and the fact that Townshend has a technique of hitting tremendous chords, shaking you to your toes, then bursting out with blinding runs that paralyze the listener before he even has a chance to start climbing the walls.

An added effect was the sudden use of three powerful floodlights, aimed from backstage out into the auditorium, which provided a spectacular, blinding back-lighting effect for the musicians.

Although the New York Metropolitan Opera House full performance of “Tommy” a week ago Sunday was supposed to be the final one, they did most of their rock opera Monday, preceding it with Mose Allison’s “Young Man Blues,” “Water,” “Substitute,” their new single for Decca, “The Seeker,” and a couple of others. Incidentally, if you have not heard, their most recent Decca album, “Live at Leeds,” is almost as good as a live performance — at least if you have a powerful phonograph. But it’ll never touch Live at Berkeley for those fortunate 7000.