THE WHO in concert at Kemper Arena: Peter Townshend, guitar, vocals; Roger Daltrey, lead vocals, harmonica; Keith Moon, drums, vocals; John Entwistle, bass, vocals. With TOOTS AND THE MAYTALS.

The Who has survived more than 10 years in rock music without a serious rift or personnel change, and its continuing unity is most apparent in concert. Though themes of adolescent frustration, which characterized its earliest hits, recently have taken a back seat to Townshend's messianic metaphors, the band still is tough, energetic and surprising.

Roger Daltrey's recent starring roles in two Ken Russell films, “Tommy” (based on Townshend's rock opera) and “Lisztomania,” have led many to fear that too much stardom for the vocalist might overpower the image of the Who. But when Townshend performed the overtures to his familiar “guitar dance,” his right arm flailing his guitar like a windmill thrown into reverse, striking out three powerful chords of “Can't Explain,” there was no question that there was only one entity of interest being presented, and that entity was the Who.

After a smattering of old and new hits, the opening synthesizer lines from “Baba O'Riley” issued, presumably on tape, from the speakers, and the Who jumped into it with abandon. “Magic Bus” was the kicker that got most of the capacity crowd to its feet, and it was played with more assurance and variation than ever before.

Townshend appears to be in his prime, the years having erased little of the savage athletics from his playing. In size 10 sneakers borrowed from a member of the audience, Townshend punctuated his crashing solos with stomps and jumps. Hunkering down on his heels, then leaping straight up and jackknifing his legs, Townshend was balanced by Daltrey to his right, who made stiff, abstract motions with his arms and twirled the microphone with professional precision. Together they resembled two cheerleaders gone mad on rock and roll.

Though Townshend was ever in dominant control, Daltrey's presence was powerful and arresting. An integral part of the Who's sound, his vocals are a haunting blues howl ripe with repressed violence. Encased in skin-tight buckskin, Daltrey behaved as much like a prize Afghan hound on a short leash as a rock singer, pacing or jogging in unremitting circles whenever he was not singing. In fact, he looked decidedly uncomfortable when required to stand still and deliver a lyrical ballad like “Behind Blue Eyes.” This was not the wide-eyed golden boy of motion picture fame onstage—all publicity to the contrary, Daltrey still is first and foremost a rock and roll star, the mouthpiece of the Who's collective genius.

The medley from “Tommy” provided the first and most effective climax of the set. The music has survived intact the media hype that surrounded the release of the film, and still sounds its best when performed live by the Who. At the zenith of “We're Not Gonna Take It,” seven laser-like beams of red light shot out from behind the band, angling out over the crowd and fanning into tiny threads of light. The design was repeated on each side in green, and the ends of the beams formed intricate celestial patterns at the rear of the hall.

Moon does not so much play the drums as attack them, and his assault on “Summertime Blues” was emphasized by the relative nonmotion of Entwistle. Stoic in a classicly cut black suit, Entwistle thumped relentlessly at the bass as Moon crashed away, his eyebrows raised in maniacal delight.

With “We Won't Get Fooled Again,” the group was gone, refusing an encore. The casualties were slight for a group whose trademark once was exploding amplifiers and splintered guitars—damage was limited to three tambourines and uncounted drumsticks. Though by today's rock standards the Who could hardly be considered a violent group, they still can dish it out musically to anyone who can take it.

A disappointing chord was struck early in the concert by the loudly mixed reaction to Toots and the Maytals. Though they are superstars of the Caribbean, having played together since 1963, Toots Hibbert and company had little success in selling their Jamaican sound to the crowd at Kemper Monday night. Though the band really cooked with heavy polyrhythmic reggae and Jamaican jive talk, which inspired isolated outbreaks of dancing in the audience, they drew boos, jeers and obscenities. Though Toots and the Maytals were chosen by Townshend to open the show, many of Townshend's fans reacted to the group with bad manners rather than open minds. Kansas City, at least the sector attracted to the hard rock of the Who, definitely is not ready for reggae.