A decade on from their last studio album and after countless reunions, The Who put out a self-titled release. Who’d have seen that coming? Everyone, to be fair. The band were back, gone, and back again so often over the years it’s hard to know whether they’re serious about wrapping things up. Even now, after a patchy final run of US shows and Roger Daltrey hinting that this string of solo shows could be the last time he takes to the stage, doubt is lingering. Could this truly be the end of The Who? Who knows. Who knows, that’s precisely the point of this album and what will likely be the last-ever contemporary studio release from the band. Already, we’re being treated to archival releases in the same way restaurant staff are treated to mild-mannered criticism who view them as insects with serving platters. The Who rounds off their career with an album so wholly dedicated to checking all the boxes before they pack up their instruments for good.
What The Who had going for them right up to the first break they took is that their album work is either influential or legendary. Often both, but no album of theirs up to the end of their first line-up misses a beat. They took a break in 1983, and rightly so, but even then, the material is of solid quality. Not as many hits and a few duds in there, but not as many as what happened when they got back together. Reunion tours are often best served as just that, a chance to hear the band on stage as they rattle out the hits. Who suggests otherwise and pits the band in the uncomfortable waters of contemporary material. A fatal error is made by Daltrey and Pete Townshend here. Take a look at the cover. This is not what had inspired The Who; it is what remains of their inspirations. It’s what still drives them. Neither Daltrey nor Townshend did this in their solo careers, and the problems of lifting the past for new material shine through here. Many puns to be had with this one. Who thought this was a good idea? Who cares for this?
One trouble for such puns is that it doesn’t quite highlight how the songs within are relatively solid, Who-sounding efforts. Opening song All This Music Must Fade is a song that a lesser artist would plant at the end of their album to signal their farewell. Much of what follows is forgettable but serves, if anything, as examples of Daltrey and Townshend maintaining a musical consistency. What a drop-off Who is. By the time I Don’t Wanna Get Wise is rolled out, Daltrey sounds in poor shape and the lyrics are of little use. Thanks for the money, expand the world, and off the duo goes to the next song. Detour sure feels like one. As passive as The Who ever sounded. It’s a cobbling together of ideas, tones, and themes that either the band has touched on before or has yet to flesh out properly. Often, it’s the latter.
But The Who is one of those bands with a licence to do so little. It’ll win over so many through the name of the band alone, though Who is such a letdown of a farewell. Make no mistake, this’ll be the last album from Daltrey and Townshend. Nothing will change that unless through some sheer act of spite, they decide to make another after reading this. They won’t. We are safe from more plodding work by The Who. Some questionable choices made to the vocals on I’ll Be Back and a Mumford and Sons-like clap and stomp to Break The News is just about the last straw for Who. A last hurrah with Rockin’ in Rage, though it feels like a band on their last legs rather than anything they wanted to tell their audience before closing the door for good. Too much of a good thing, though there’s no good at all within Who.
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