There’s always a certain amount of danger involved when one of your compositions turns out to be the quintessential statement of the rebellious nature of your, uh, generation.

British rock superstars the Who trod upon such a line 24 years ago when their hit “My Generation”—featuring the controversial lyric, “Hope I die before I get old”—became an anthem for their youthful audiences.

Getting old 24 years later and for the most part, not dead, the Who came to the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum on Saturday night with the hoopla surrounding their Thursday night performance of their rock opera “Tommy” not yet subsided.

In the midst of their highly lucrative 25th-anniversary tour, the All-Star charity performance was an obvious effort to give something back, from a venture whose scope and profitability could be seen as a swift kick in the eye to those old rebellious notions.

And it was successful. It also, however, raised expectations a bit, and when the Who took the stage Saturday night and opened with the mini-version of “Tommy” that the band has been doing throughout the tour, it fell flat. The shortened opera, scattered and choppy, in fact became a harbinger of things to come.

The Who, after all, is a band that has risen on the strength of good, if not always great, material, and a lot of gimmicks. None of these things, however, is worth much when it comes to providing the transcendent moments required to make a stadium-type performance worthwhile.

One of four great British supergroups to escape the ’60s generally intact, the Who possesses neither the maniacal stomp of Led Zeppelin, the ethereal lament of Pink Floyd or the demonic edge of the Rolling Stones. What the band has is a smattering of soulful, thoughtful works, some gimmicks and a magic busload full of short, punchy material, which just isn’t overwhelming when observed from the far corners of the expansive confines of the Coliseum.

Their early pop hits in general, including “I Can’t Explain,” “My Generation” and “I Can See For Miles,” are all much more effective in smaller settings.

Conversely, the high points came during more mature material such as “Love, Reign O’er Me,” “See Me, Feel Me” and “Behind Blue Eyes,” which are effective at any distance. The show’s second set ended with a sizzling rendition of “Won’t Get Fooled Again.”

Townshend introduced his band just before the encore and, in his only real comments of the night, took time to defend his band against Los Angeles Times critic Robert Hilburn.

Hilburn had suggested in a review earlier this week that the current version of the Who has an asterisk after its name, out of respect for the old Who. Making an oblique reference to the death of former drummer Keith Moon, to his own extensive hearing loss and to the fact that this isn’t 1965 anymore, Townshend noted that the old Who could no longer exist. He then joked disarmingly that they were “only doing it for the money anyway.”

Most fans have to wonder how seriously to take comments like these. Perhaps if Townshend and company would like to clear the air, they’ll play smaller venues on their next tour and give their fans a chance to enjoy them from a reasonable distance.

J. Dean Grotke is a free-lance writer who has covered entertainment for several local publications.