THE LIVELY ARTS

Greatest Rock Show On Earth

By Philip Elwood

The Who came and The Who conquered.

The greatest rock show on earth, The Who, enthralled, deafened and blinded their overflow audience last night at the Civic Auditorium.

But for one and all, from stage to the nether reaches of the balcony, it was joyous rock communion led by The King of Who, guitarist Peter Townshend.

Nothing last night seemed dimmed or diluted since The Who’s last local concert 18 months ago.

Perhaps we are more familiar, now, with Townshend’s gigantic leaps and lurches and singer Roger Daltry’s lasso-like mike twirling, but familiarity (in this case) breeds congenialty.

This royalty of rock is the idiom’s loudest noise but The Who’s sound-engineering makes even the ultrasound seem always balanced.

There was old and new last night. Vintage Who numbers like “Can’t Explain,” “Summertime Blues,” “Substitute,” “My Generation,” and “Magic Bus.” Numbers like “Baba O’Riley,” “Bargain,” “My Wife,” “Won’t Get Fooled Again,” and “Behind Blue Eyes” from the current LP.

And “Baby, Don’t Cha Do It,” “Don’t Really Happen,” a truncated “Tommy” medley, and a wild version of Freddy King’s “Goin’ Down.”

The strong personal and musical affinity of Townshend and drummer Keith Moon is The Who’s dominant axis — simple descending chords heavy with amplification and rhythm.

PETER TOWNSHEND is The Who’s king of rock royalty — the irascible guitarist of the greatest rock show on earth.

Vocalist Daltry is like another instrument, his lyrics usually lost in the acoustic chaos.

The pulse of The Who is John Entwistle, whose three-beat (in a four-four meter) on bass is The Who’s heart-throb.

Townshend was a bit irascible, throwing his maniacal tantrums regularly although no equipment (for a change) was smashed or burned. During “Don't Really Happen” he staggered and wallowed about the stage madly like a lush Lucia.

Daltry’s screams, wails and theatrics are magnificent theater and Moon (besides providing exactly what Townshend wants in the way of rhythm, percussion and effects) is a superb pantomimist.

The Who is like a huge audio light show — pounding their notes and noises on through the inner ear. It’s like a combination forced-feeding and shock-therapy all in one to hear them for two straight hours up close.

And I revel in it all . . . once in a while.

Hail The Who.