Can't explain but I think it's love...

The concert: The Who, live at the Pacific Coliseum. The players: Peter Townshend, guitar; Roger Daltrey, vocals; John Entwistle, bass; Kenny Jones, drums; with John (Rabbit) Bundrick on keyboards and three horn players. The songs: Substitute, I Can't Explain, Baba O'Reilly, My Wife, Goodbye Sister Disco, Behind Blue Eyes, Music Must Change, Drowned, Who Are You?, 5:15, Pinball Wizard, See Me, Feel Me, Touch Me, Heal Me, Long Live Rock, My Generation, I Can See For Miles, Sparks, Won't Get Fooled Again, Summertime Blues, Can You See the Real Me. The verdict: Are you kidding?

It's tough being a legend. For 15 years you play the halls and the arenas, weathering everything from the Dave Clark Five to disco to punk, singing about Your Generation to newer generations. One member of your musical legend can't cope and burns out. Then 11 fans die in a crush at a December 1979 concert in Cincinnati. You carry on.

The difference between your group and others is the difference between a trouper and a legend: a trouper just plays while a legend captures a peculiar feeling — one peculiar to rock music — and belts it out, night after night, in a series of songs that speaks to teenage sensibilities.

Nobody does it better than the legend known as the Who.

It's Pete Townshend's unique ability to write a song that hits a rock lover somewhere between the brain stem and the adrenaline gland, a spot that somehow turns a song into an anthem. Other bands may still have the power chops that keep album sales booming — Led Zeppelin — others may continue to stage a circus — the Rolling Stones — but the Who delivers anthems.

There wasn't one unfamiliar song in Monday's concert. One after another they came, filled with stinging phrases like "my love is vengeance," "I know you deceive me now here's a surprise," and "rock is dead, long live rock." Tough songs, with a tough delivery, but received like gifts from on high.

The Who in concert is rock theatre brought to life. Roger Daltrey, gold hair cropped tight to the skull, head and body thrown back, weight on left foot while the right foot prances in time, his taped-up microphone helicoptering around his arm, a rock idol.

John Entwistle, straight and stolid, immobile near the side of the stage, bass snapping under the music.

Kenny Jones, not trying to fill Keith Moon's sneakers but bringing new drive to old songs, burning on the drum kit.

And Pete Townshend, the rock poet who says more in one line than most bands do on double "concept" albums, leaping around the stage in some private catharsis.

Pure rock 'n' roll.

The audience knew most of the songs by heart, joining in from time to time when the spirit moved them. It was definitely moved when the band launched into My Generation, tearing into absent elders with one of rock's most compelling lines, "Things they do look awful cold/Hope I die before I get old." Audience identification is total when Daltrey lashes out with "Why don't cha all f-f-fade away." The stuttering vocal is matched perfectly by the on-its-feet audience.

It would be tough to pick the best songs from the concert as each had its fans. The "Tommy" numbers received the loudest applause, but mention should be made of three songs which seem to sum up the Who and the band's power to move youth.

Behind Blue Eyes. Daltrey standing in a single spotlight, singing slow and sure, "No one knows what it's like, to be the sad man, the bad man, behind blue eyes" while Townshend's guitar rumbles quietly underneath. Then crashing drums and bass, Townshend windmilling wildly, slashing into the meat of the song. "My dreams are as empty as my conscience seems to be... my love is vengeance." Rock as theatre, just like you always knew it was.

Baba O'Reilly. Synthesizer warbling through the arena before Townshend's guitar chords, then tumbling drums and bass and Daltrey's powerful voice asking "Sally take my hand, we'll travel south cross land... let's get together, before we get much older." And a generation skewered on a phrase, "Don't cry, don't raise your eyes/It's only teenage wasteland." The crowd yells out the chorus.

Won't Get Fooled Again. The guys in the blues are tearing into this one. Any teen working for minimum wage can take this political song to heart with its "Meet the new boss/same as the old boss" line. But what everyone's waiting for is The Scream. Three-quarters through the song there's a break, the instruments noodling around, the lights shooting sparks off the revolving silver ball, then Daltrey's rooster stance and the blood curdling yell, "Yeaaaaaaaazaaahhhhh." Nothing like it in rock, and he's still got the tonsils to make it payoff.

The audience loved it. Concert seating was enforced until My Generation (introduced by Townshend as Hymn Number Nine). The crowd, kept away from the stage by Coliseum security, rushed the front to hang over the stage. Nothing serious, just a need by true believers to be as close as possible to the legend.

The Who's sound system was murky at first, especially during Entwistle's My Wife number, but it quickly improved. The lighting was excellent, the band hot, the audience happy.

If you can't understand why these people had such a good time, then you'll never know. Some things you can't explain.

Opening act was Vancouver's Powder Blues Band whose "Doin' It Right" music was well received by the sellout crowd. Consider that a triumph as opening for the Who could have been a disaster. It should be noted that PBB was using borrowed equipment, their own having tumbled over a cliff in a truck accident near Golden on Sunday afternoon.