Two hours into the show Townshend and Daltry are sweating up a storm, leaping through the air and indulging in the motions that gave them claim to the title of "The world's Greatest Rock and Roll Band."

From a vibrant mini-medley of "Tommy"—the rock opera that first put them in the American spotlight, they catapult into "Substitute," a signature tune from the early days, then move to a crescendo with an exceptional capsulization of "Quadrophenia."

After two hours of solid rocking, the question no longer is whether they are the world's greatest, but rather how long they will remain.

The tour was billed as The Who's final. If true, then the Oakland show was a fitting finale from rock's finest performers.

In a music world full of hype and soft, safe formula megasellers, it is hard to imagine subscribing unless The Who are included somewhere.

Never short on dramatics or theatrics, The Who have been the heartbeat of rock for nearly two decades. Wherever Townshend has wandered, rock hustled to keep pace, an extremely healthy process for both performers and listeners.

But if they were the grade by which others were measured, The Who never paused for a minute. Whether composing splendid concept pieces like "Tommy" and "Quadrophenia," or compressing it into a three minute single, Townshend has always been meaningful and melodic.

Even during the slump of recent years, which actually began before the departure of ace drummer and free spirit Keith Moon – Townshend remained an ace wit and expert observer, offering his emotional releases strong and sincerely.

Yet something snapped. Daltry, the story goes, tired of watching Townshend wilt on the road, in the shadow of drugs and alcohol.

Others suggest a huge money play. The "final" tour promotion has made it a highly profitable sell-out, with the faithful and curious alike hankering for a last glance at a rock institution.

However you toss the coin, one thing is absolutely certain. If The Who are ending an era, they are going out on the run — good to the last drop.

At Oakland last Monday night (they also headlined a Saturday Day on the Green show in, or the Oakland Stadium) they managed to dazzle a drenched standing room only crowd that waited placidly outside for hours in the pouring rain.

As the complaisant dripping crowd formed a mile-long line through the parking lot while attendants funneled them in in manageable numbers, one lively Who fan shouted "They wouldn't stand for this in Cincinnati."

But inside, the whimpers and complaints of rude treatment turned to appreciative cheers for The Who, pouring it on with enough energy to instantly dry soaked shirts and warm even the most sceptical heart.

Townshend punkishly pounded the chords to an eerie version of the classic "My Generation" — hope I die before I get old that opened the show.

Daltry twirled his microphone cord like a lasso complimenting Townshend's windmill stomps and streaks in leaps.

While nothing new to bolster their spirits, The Who took one another oldie next – I Can't Explain – hurled vocal and guitar attack that has gotten even more durable since the 60's.

The Who included an ample ice sampling of their new LP "It's Hard Dangerous." ("Cry If You Want" and "Athena," the current hit) were each given pertinent readings, punctuated by stage twists and Townshend leaps.

Top a "Emminence Front" and "It's Hard" from the current album Stone The latter received a Class 4 Who show full of climactic passages and changes, built range vocals Emminence Front emerged as one of the new album's most telling tunes with a sensual heavy rhythm, synthesizer disorientation and irresistible