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Who needs loud amps? Not The Who, as this magical acoustic gig proved

Roger Daltrey (left) and Pete Townshend at the Royal Albert Hall - Roger Daltrey (left) and Pete Townshend at the Royal Albert Hall/PA
Roger Daltrey (left) and Pete Townshend at the Royal Albert Hall - Roger Daltrey (left) and Pete Townshend at the Royal Albert Hall/PA

It was billed as “The Who (acoustic)”, which almost seems oxymoronic. What would the loudest, lairiest, guitar-smashing pioneers of stadium rock do without a stack of Marshall amps and volume turned up to 11?

If Friday’s audience at the Royal Albert Hall didn’t know what to expect, evidently neither did the band. “We’ve only had two hours rehearsal, so it’s going to be s---e,” threatened Pete Townshend, acoustic guitar slung around his neck.

“Don’t say that,” grumbled Roger Daltrey, as the singer strapped on his own acoustic guitar. “It’ll be great.”

They were both right, in their own ways. With false starts and confused song endings, wrong keys and forgotten lyrics, this was an uncharacteristically shambolic show by a band rightfully celebrated as one of the all-time-great live acts. But it was also charming, moving and revealing, with moments of magic and transcendence that served as a reminder of the brilliance of Townshend’s songs, and the rewarding power of lifelong loyalty – between both the surviving band members and their devoted audience.

Backed by a seven-piece band featuring violin, accordion, mandolin, percussion, bass and keyboards, the duo of Daltrey and Townshend bravely reconfigured classic rockers with a spirit of folky rambunctiousness overlaid with shaky but sublime layers of harmony. The mellow flavour helped emphasise the gorgeous melodies and brilliant lyrics of more obscure Who songs including Tattoo, Real Good Looking Boy and Eminence Front (richly sung by Daltrey, though it is usually led by Townshend). An accordion opening for Behind Blue Eyes offered a revelatory reminder of the complexity and elegance of Townshend’s compositional style, whilst limber peace anthem Beads On One String (from 2019’s superb WHO album) sounded utterly sublime, with stage lights shifting to blue and yellow in a show of support for Ukraine.

On a less sure-footed note, they were forced to restart Squeeze Box three times with some band members playing in the key of D and others in G. “So what key was I singing in?” asked a confused Daltrey. “I’m not sure,” admitted Townshend. Daltrey urged Townshend’s younger brother Simon (also on acoustic guitar) to intervene “or we’ll fight forever.” There was vigorous onstage debate about the tempo of various songs, whilst Daltrey muttered “I’m confused” after a weirdly abrupt conclusion to an otherwise fantastic Pinball Wizard.

“I did actually show you the new ending,” said Townshend, sniffily.

“Did you show us the beginning?” retorted Daltrey.

The septuagenarian survivors of The Who (sometimes dubbed “the TWho” by Townshend) have had a famously embattled relationship, but this banter between them was hugely affectionate, replete with smiles and laughter, while both seemed to be enjoying this unusual reconfiguration of their music. The show was effectively like being a fly-on-the-wall at one of the rehearsals they should have possibly had much earlier, but there was something very special about being offered such unfiltered insight into one of the great rock relationships.

The gig was in aid of Teenage Cancer Trust. In sincere praise of his bandmate’s decades long work for the charity, Townshend suggested a knighthood for Daltrey was overdue, especially in an honours system that gave us “Sir Rod f-----g Stewart.” “If I become a Sir, does that mean I have to dress up like Rod?” wondered Daltrey. “It won’t suit me.”

“It doesn’t suit him,” noted Townshend, revelling in his role as grumpy old rock star.

With a violin replacing the sequenced synthesiser that usually drives heavy rock anthem Baba O’Riley, its anthemic drive still resonated enough to get everyone in the Royal Albert Hall on their feet, with Daltrey’s harmonica adding vigorously to the rhythmic pulse, and an ebullient Townshend swinging his guitar to direct the band through surges and climaxes. The show concluded with just the Who duo on stage, playing Won’t Get Fooled Again in a welter of slashed acoustic guitar and roared vocals that proved their power was never really reliant on amplification. Great songs, great guitarist, great singer and a great cause made for a great, great show.