And microphone-swinging Roger Daltrey's wailing vocals have somehow withstood the sands of time, ably reaching most of the highs and lows on 30 years worth of band staples.

Drenched from a tropical night, but seemingly with something to prove, The Who played virtually nonstop for two hours and 15 minutes. The playset included the band's chestnut songs of youthful dispossession like "My Generation" and the singalong "Baba O'Riley" (better known by its refrain, "Teenage Wasteland.")

And, of course, there were the samplers from the "Tommy" and "Quadrophenia" rock operas pioneered by The Who.

At least half those in the crowd were in cribs when The Who were tearing up stages and hotel rooms and setting decibel records as part of the British Invasion of bands.

Jenny Zimmerman, 21, recalls her parents playing The Who on the stereo as far back as she can remember. Strangely, she didn't like them then, but does now.

"I know there's no rock 'n' roll nowadays like there was then," she said. Her parents also were at the show, but were not hanging out with their daughter, of course.

A band that once sang about hoping to die before they get old nearly has. Drummer Keith Moon died of an overdose in 1978. Last month, the band was two days away from launching its first tour since 1997 when seminal bassist John Entwistle was found dead in Las Vegas' Hard Rock Hotel from a cocaine-induced heart attack.

Some felt the band should pack it in, and suggested a tour would be little more than a crass, money-grab. But the band replaced Entwistle with able session man Pino Palladino and continued on, surprising critics with their intensity.

As Townshend told a mourning crowd on the second night of the tour in Los Angeles: "Rock 'n' roll was never meant to be easy. Nor was life. You just get on with it."

Joe Cicero, a longtime Who fan from Elizabethtown, suggested, "For them to play after he died — it's because they're so loyal to their fans. I think he's still with them."

Entwistle was only broached once. Before leaping into "Another Tricky Day," Townshend said, "We're not going to do any more John Entwistle tributes because he doesn't listen to us.

"He hasn't come back to us."

The most thunderous applause, and certainly the most poignant moment, came after the two-hour set ended with "Won't Get Fooled Again," the band's longtime closer.

After introducing the band — drummer Zak Starkey (Ringo's son), Palladino, pianist John Bundrick and backup guitarist Simon Townshend (Pete's younger brother) — Townshend and Daltrey embraced and faced the crowd for a lingering, touching moment that took in all that has gone before.

The band took just enough time to wipe sweat from their brows before launching into a crescendo medley of four "Tommy" tunes.

While many of The Who's youthful fans exulted in seeing the band live for the first time, when the cruel house lights illuminated the crowd after the final fury, veteran Who-heads must have wondered if this was, finally, the last dance for the angst-driven band.

Who knows? Who cares — it was enough to savor a performance that crystallized why live rock long will ride through the night.

The night's opening act, former Led Zeppelin lead singer Robert Plant, played new and old rockers to an appreciative audience.