TOWNSHEND from E1

corded in 1969 by the Who.

He began in earnest with his White City — A Novel album in 1985, though that was a tentative attempt since the feature film he hoped it would spawn never came to life. In 1989, he adapted Ted Hughes’ fable The Iron Man into a musical work, and he’s now preparing a stage version for London.

Then came the stage version of Tommy with Tony-winning director Des McAnuff — first in La Jolla, Calif., then on Broadway.

And now Townshend has released Psychoderelict, a radio play-styled album that mixes dialogue with song in a tale about an aging rocker and a plot conjured up by his manager and a mean-spirited gossip columnist to bolster his status.

“White City and Quadrophenia had stories. So did Tommy, but they were actually quite vague,” Townshend says. “What I’ve done with Psychoderelict is gone further than I would normally go to actually get across a precise idea. I went from resisting the idea of explaining myself to getting very excited about the manner of doing it, of telling a story on CD.”

Townshend was pushed in that direction. In September 1991, while he was vacationing in Cornwall, England, with his family — Karen, his wife of 23 years, two grown daughters and a 3½-year-old son — Townshend broke his wrist in a bicycle accident.

For a while he feared he’d never be able to play guitar again. He learned to write with his left hand and had almost resigned himself to the idea that “maybe it was time to work as a dramatist and songwriter and not be a personality, not be a performer anymore…. At the time I was horrified and depressed.”

But that injury also gave Townshend time to reflect on what he’d accomplished and what his ambitions were for the future.

Although the accident slowed progress on Psychoderelict, it prodded him to start working in earnest on the stage production of Tommy. Meanwhile, through physical therapy Townshend’s wrist recovered.

His handshake is firmer and his dart game has improved, but he did lose the guitar playing dexterity he

Pete Townshend will be at Tower Theater tomorrow.

showed in Who hits such as “Pinball Wizard.”

“I’m having to live with the fact that I have a bit of a stiff claw where I used to have this flexible strumming device,” he says. “The kind of playing I was most famous for, most vain about, it’s gone. They took away my ability to do that flamenco thing and they gave me a … Tony!”

Ultimately, Townshend’s convalescence “actually improved the quality of my life.” He says that doing The Iron Man was “the point where I had decided to clearly dictate a new approach for myself,” but that it was working with McAnuff on Tommy that showed him how he would have to accomplish that.

“There was a new willingness on my part to collaborate, which I never was ready for in the Who, sadly,” he explains. “I think it was youth and selfishness, a lack of generosity, really… .

“I don’t think in the beginning I had any idea I would be able to control what the band did, but I suppose that ultimately that’s what I was after. … In the periods between recording sessions and tours, in the six to eight weeks they got off, I was still working, still slaving away in the recording studio.

“That’s why I think I’m so proprie- tal about [getting] the author’s proceeds out of all this. I feel if there’s an inheritance from the lack of freedom in those early years, it’s that I get an extra five-years’ lease of creative life over the other guys in the band.”

That’s not a problem, as the other surviving members of the Who are in decidedly low profile.

“Pete’s driven,” says Roger Daltrey, the Who’s vocalist. “He’s that kind of tortured artist who’s always romanticized about, working and whipping himself toward some kind of perfection he’ll never reach but you know that down deep he enjoys going for.”

If that’s the case, Townshend should be having a ball these days. With the post-Tonys Tommy taking care of itself, Townshend is taking Psychoderelict on the road for a brief North American tour. (His Aug. 7 concert from New York will be televised via pay per view.) The first draft of Ray High and the Glass Household, the novel that became the basis of Psychoderelict’s story, is on the desk of Townshend’s editor at the London publishing house Faber & Faber — where the rocker also works as an editor.

He’s also overseeing the stage production of The Iron Man and keeping tabs on plans to celebrate the Who’s 30th anniversary next year. A tour is unlikely, according to Townshend, but there will probably be a few commemorative recordings.

“A lot of the time right now I’m very happy, which is unusual for me,” says Townshend, whose most enduring work — “My Generation,” “I Can’t Explain,” “Won’t Get Fooled Again” — are anthems of personal and political angst.

“But during the last six months, I’ve had the longest sustained period of both contentment and sometimes periods of tremendous, ecstatic happiness. What I want from my life and my work and my relationships is purpose and a feeling that what I’m doing not only has value but also that it’s not, in a way, destructive.

“I have a very strong feeling that I’m achieving that now. There’s a feeling of real rootedness. It’s great to be able to say that I’m in very good shape at the moment.”