The Who's Live at the Royal Albert Hall captures a charity concert for a cancer organization the reunited group performed in November of 2000. Given the band's spotty track record in their farewell tours and reunions of the '80s and '90s, it's easy for some longtime fans to be skeptical of the musical merits of the triple-disc hybrid SACD release of this concert, but this is an exceptional reunion concert, finding the band at their strongest since their early-'80s breakup. Supported by drummer Zak Starkey and longtime keyboardist John "Rabbit" Bundrick, Pete Townshend, Roger Daltrey, and John Entwistle (in one of his last major concerts) sound reinvigorated, playing such standards as "I Can't Explain" and "Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere" with vigor and energy, as if they haven't played them countless times. The group also stretches out, as Townshend contributes a new bridge to "The Kids Are Alright" and the band jams through "Magic Bus," "5:15," and "Won't Get Fooled Again," showing both dexterity and muscle. While nobody would mistake this show with the careening power and unpredictability of the band at their peak in the '60s and '70s, this is an impressive mix of maturity, professionalism, and passion, finding the group regaining their sense of authority and integrity -- compare this to such rote reunions as Join Together to hear the difference. At three discs (including four bonus tracks recorded at another Royal Albert Hall show in February 2002), this is a bit long, but for those longtime fans, there's plenty to like here. After all, it's very rare for a reunion album to be this good, and it's even rarer to have one with cameos as good as those here -- Townshend's duet with Paul Weller on "So Sad About Us" and two songs fronted by Pearl Jam's Eddie Vedder ("I'm One," "Getting in Tune") are as good as those songs by Daltrey, and help make Live at the Royal Albert Hall a really pleasant surprise. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
This double CD is pretty similar in sound and content to the expanded Live at Leeds album, except there's much more from Tommy, and a few semi-obscure numbers like "I Don't Even Know Myself," "Water," and "Naked Eye." Hardcore Who fanatics seem to prefer Live at Leeds, which was recorded only a few months before this material. That viewpoint is understandable: the performances are sharper on Leeds, and if you're not a big-league fan, that single-disc set is a more economical survey of the band in concert during this era. If you do like the Who a lot, though, Isle of Wight is worth having. The sound and performances are decent, although be aware that the band's on-stage version of Tommy omits some decent songs from the opera, such as "Sensation" and "Underture." ~ Richie Unterberger, All Music Guide
Join Together is a double-disc document of The Who's 1989 reunion tour. One disc is an entire performance of Tommy, the other a selection of their greatest hits. Both are professionally performed crowd-pleasers and neither disc provides any compelling listening. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
A double-disc document of The Who's 1982 farewell tour, Who's Last is a tepid and utterly forgettable album. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
The Who by Numbers functions as Pete Townshend's confessional singer/songwriter album, as he chronicles his problems with alcohol ("However Much I Booze"), women ("Dreaming From the Waist" and "They Are All in Love"), and life in general. However, his introspective musings are rendered ineffective by Roger Daltrey's bluster and the cloying, lightweight filler of "Squeeze Box." In addition, Townshend's songs tend to be underdeveloped, relying on verbosity instead of melodicism, with only the simple power of "Slip Kid," the grace of "Blue Red and Grey," and John Entwistle's heavy rocker "Success Story" making much of an impact. [The 1996 CD reissue adds three live tracks from a 1976 concert.] ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
Driven by Pete Townshend's arching musical ambitions, It's Hard was a final effort from the Who. Featuring layers of synthesizers and long-winded, twisting song structures, the album featured the anthemic "Athena" and the terse "Eminence Front." ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine & Cub Koda, All Music Guide
Like the film itself, the soundtrack to the Who's Kids Are Alright documentary is frustrating even as it pleases, since it falls short of being definitive. If the film was supposed to explain the excitement and history of the Who, tracing their evolution from mod superstars to arena rock gods, it somehow failed by just not quite gelling. Similarly, the soundtrack attempts to gather a bunch of live rarities, thereby capturing the band at the peak of their powers, but it falls a little bit short of the mark by hopping all over the place chronologically, adding a couple of studio cuts (including live-in-the-studio tracks), along the way. So, you can view this as a missed opportunity or treasure what's here -- and, really, the latter is the preferred method of listening to this album, since there is a lot to treasure here. There's the epochal performance of "My Generation" from the 1967 Smothers Brothers show, three performances from Woodstock, terrific television performances of "Magic Bus" and "Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere," a blistering "Young Man Blues," and the definitive performance of "A Quick One, While He's Away," the version they played at the Rolling Stones' Rock & Roll Circus -- a performance so good that, according to legend, it's the reason why the Stones shelved the show for 20 years, since the Who just left them in the dust (even if it's not true, it sure sounds plausible, based on this performance). Then, there are some really fine latter-day versions of "My Wife," "Baba O'Riley," and "Won't Get Fooled Again," along with a medley of "Join Together/Roadrunner/My Generation Blues" from 1975, that may not be era-defining, like those mentioned above, but they're pretty damn great all the same (as is "Long Live Rock," Townshend's best Chuck Berry homage and one of the few songs to capture what rock was all about in the '70s and beyond). So, it's a bit too haphazard to really be definitive, but the Who were always a bit haphazard, and if you love them, that's something you love about them. And, in turn, it's hard not to love this album, if you love them. (At the very least, you have to love the cover, which is not just the best portrait of the Who, it's one of the iconic images of rock history.) ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
On the Who's final album with Keith Moon, their trademark honest power started to get diluted by fatigue and a sense that the group's collective vision was beginning to fade. As instrumentalists, their skills were intact. More problematic was the erratic quality of the material, which seemed torn between blustery attempts at contemporary relevance ("Sister Disco," "New Song," "Music Must Change") and bittersweet insecurity ("Love Is Coming Down"). Most problematic of all were the arrangements, heavy on the symphonic synthesizers and strings, which make the record sound cluttered and overanxious. Roger Daltrey's operatic tough-guy braggadocio in particular was beginning to sound annoying on several cuts. Yet Pete Townshend's better tunes -- "Music Must Change," "Love Is Coming Down," and the anthemic title track -- continued to explore the contradictions of aging rockers in interesting, effective ways. Whether due to Moon's death or not, it was the last reasonably interesting Who record. The 1996 CD reissue adds five previously unreleased alternate takes and demos. ~ Richie Unterberger, All Music Guide
Pete Townshend revisited the rock opera concept with another double-album opus, this time built around the story of a young mod's struggle to come of age in the mid-'60s. If anything, this was a more ambitious project than Tommy, given added weight by the fact that the Who weren't devising some fantasy but were re-examining the roots of their own birth in mod culture. In the end, there may have been too much weight, as Townshend tried to combine the story of a mixed-up mod named Jimmy with the examination of a four-way split personality (hence the title Quadrophenia), in turn meant to reflect the four conflicting personas at work within the Who itself. The concept might have ultimately been too obscure and confusing for a mass audience. But there's plenty of great music anyway, especially on "The Real Me," "The Punk Meets the Godfather," "I'm One," "Bell Boy," and "Love, Reign o'er Me." Some of Townshend's most direct, heartfelt writing is contained here, and production-wise it's a tour de force, with some of the most imaginative use of synthesizers on a rock record. Various members of the band griped endlessly about flaws in the mix, but really these will bug very few listeners, who in general will find this to be one of the Who's most powerful statements. ~ Richie Unterberger, All Music Guide