Live Review: The Who at United Center • Chicago

Brassneck | September 9, 2025

The Who

United Center

Chicago, IL

September 7, 2025

Review by Jeff Elbel

When the Who undertook their first farewell “Schlitz” tour in 1982, fans took them at their word and packed arenas. The British rockers even released a successful live album called Who’s Last in 1984. The following year, the band was strong-armed by Bob Geldof into reuniting for Live Aid. Reunion tours celebrating the rock operas Tommy and Quadrophenia followed, and the Who returned steadily to the road in 1999. When the band’s current tour dubbed The Song is Over was announced as a farewell to touring life, the sarcastic response was “We won’t get fooled again.” The difference, of course, is that this is more than 40 years later. Singer Roger Daltrey is 81 and songwriter/guitarist Pete Townshend is 80. The end is nigh.

So, the Who returned to the United Center on Sunday for what is likely to be the final time. Chicago rock fans came out to celebrate. The concert was great fun and well worthwhile for any Who devotee. It was not, however, what could be called the Who’s finest moment. There were gaffes, squabbles, struggles, false starts, flubs and gear failures during the set. These issues wouldn’t make the Chicago show a likely candidate as a follow-up farewell album to Who’s Last, but they did nothing to diminish the band’s reckless spirit. There was no sense trying to kick the rough spots under the rug, so Townshend dove headlong into them. “Do you want your money back?” he asked at one point, receiving a resounding answer of “No!” from the audience. “I fucking would,” the cheeky old devil responded.

The show began with the tried-and-true mod-pop single “I Can’t Explain.” Daltrey swung his microphone like a lariat and lashed into the song with barrel-chested power. Townshend broke the ice with the locals following a rollicking “Substitute.” “Chicago is one of our favorite cities in the whole world,” the guitarist announced to cheers. Then he delivered the wicked punchline. “Apart from all the Irish people, it’s great.” Townshend was deluged with the boos that he had gleefully invited. “Obviously, you don’t know that I’m half Irish,” he explained.

“But enough about me,” said Townshend. “I want to know about you,” The band kicked off a ferocious version of “Who Are You.” Cracks began to show as the song progressed. Townshend got sufficiently frustrated with his gear that he heaved his trusty red Stratocaster to the ground and demanded a new instrument. It wasn’t the guitar-smashing antics of yore, but one can’t help thinking that the thought must have crossed his mind. It took two visits from the hard-working guitar tech to get Townshend back into action with a gold Stratocaster.

Townshend shrugged off the glitch and continued his easy rapport with the crowd. “Now that we know who you are and who I am, we need to find out who God is,” he said, introducing “The Seeker.” Daltrey then led a joyful version of “Long Live Rock,” complete with Townshend’s Chuck Berry-styled duck walk.

Next were “Pinball Wizard” and “See Me, Feel Me” from 1969’s groundbreaking Tommy. Daltrey’s turn for trouble began as the album’s “Listening to You” coda neared its conclusion. He made a pair of attempts at the final line and then stopped. “I can’t sing over this horrible sound,” he said. “It’s like singing in a tin can.” The singer turned his back and fumed while walking in circles for a moment. “I can’t do what you do, Roger,” said Townshend after a pause, before speaking the final line “always listening to you” and directing the band in the song’s final flourish. “Is there anything we can do, Rog?” asked Townshend in an effort to right the ship and shore up his musical partner of more than six decades.

Townshend returned his attention to the rapt audience and promised a handful of rarely played songs. The first was “Love Ain’t for Keeping” from landmark 1971 album Who’s Next. Daltrey regathered his composure and gave a powerful performance.

Photo by Jeff Elbel

Townshend made a wry promise afterward. “Don’t worry, we won’t die,” he said. “Not tonight! We’ll save that for Philadelphia.” As the crowd laughed, the guitarist sat to play the intricate arpeggios of “Behind Blue Eyes” on acoustic guitar. Thousands of voices joined the band’s rich harmony during a stirring bridge. With its hypnotic and undulating synthesizer line, “Eminence Front” was a mesmerizing bed for Townshend’s playful improvisations on guitar.

Signature single “My Generation” was introduced in self-deprecating fashion. “Back in the Tommy years, we stopped playing this song because we thought we were too old,” Townshend said. The band tore into the song with vigor before Townshend called a quick halt. “I started playing the song in the key we used to play it in 1968,” he said. The band relaunched, and Daltrey gave menacing heft to the line “hope I die before I get old” while toying with the song’s stuttering cadence. At the solo break, Townshend traded surly riffs with bassist Jon Button.

The song segued into a revamped version of “Cry if You Want” from 1982’s It’s Hard. Daltrey recast the song’s message of shame and regret with a defiant adlib. “Get up, and own it,” he repeated. Simon Townshend sang “Going Mobile” in a rich voice that echoed his big brother Pete’s younger self, even while swapping some lyrics among verses. It was one of two songs never played by the Who before this tour.

In addition to sunsetting the band itself as a touring act, there were farewell tributes to dearly departed drummer Keith Moon and beloved bassist John Entwistle. These were particularly poignant as it was the anniversary of Moon’s passing in 1978. Townshend reminisced about early Who shows at Chicago’s Kinetic Playground, including one at which jazz legend Buddy Rich praised Moon’s drumming. “We miss him,” said Townshend of his madcap former bandmate. “There’ll never be another,” said Daltrey. “Thank goodness,” he added with a chuckle.

Quadrophenia fans roared at the announcement of four songs from the 1973 album, but the suite got off to a rocky start. Usually delivered as one of the Who’s most feral songs, “The Real Me” was defanged when Townshend’s guitar failed again and was absent for half of the song. In addition to a blast of monitor feedback that gave Daltrey an ear-splitting fright, it was the type of breakdown that was especially surprising given that the issue had already been experienced earlier in the night, the show had been through a thorough soundcheck by a first-class crew, and it was more than halfway through the tour. Then came the delicate “I’m One,” marred by another false start and a particularly naked guitar line that was botched in the first chorus. It wasn’t clear whether it was a tuning issue or a simple mistake, but Townshend’s consternation was evident as he soldiered on. Nonetheless, he ultimately laughed it off and fans remained firmly on his side.

It certainly wasn’t all errors as the show unfolded with a sense of ragged glory. There were spellbinding highlights, to be sure, like “5:15” and the bulk of “Love Reign O’er Me” featuring Daltrey’s stunningly powerful performance – until the final line, again. The singer took a couple of cracks at the last, full-throated high note before saying “Not tonight.” He then tackled the ending with a falsetto passage that raised a mighty ovation. “It’s fucking dry in here,” said the singer, who kept a small table full of therapeutic drinks close behind.

It’s worth remembering the rarity of Daltrey’s instrument. His voice is a finely tuned tool wielded with brute strength, subject to the ravages of atmosphere and age. He wasn’t “on” for the full evening, but when he was, his voice was a dexterous, full-bodied biological marvel. The few listeners still seated shifted to the edges of their seats in the pause before the final howl during “Won’t Get Fooled Again.” The song reliably brought the house down.

Townshend summed up his feelings on the performance. “On a night when we constantly fuck things up, you should really pay extra,” he quipped.

The band welcomed Katie Jacoby to the stage as a special performer to play the dervish violin part at the end of “Baba O’Riley.” The instrumentalist appeared in stylish concert dress topped with a black-strapped leather jacket.

The show concluded with a pair of genuinely touching and very human performances. Like “Going Mobile,” the tour’s namesake “The Song is Over” was also debuted as a live number this year more than 50 years following its release on Who’s Next. Daltrey’s interpretation exuded wistfulness for the memories, fondness for the experience, and gratitude for the fans who accompanied the band on its journey.

The estimable ensemble players including keyboardist Loren Gold, drummer Scott Devours (of Daltrey’s solo band, recently replacing Zak Starkey), veteran percussionist Jody Linscott, and singer John Hogg waved their goodbyes and left Daltrey and Townshend alone on stage. As Townshend sat to play the tender Endless Wire epilogue “Tea and Theatre,” Daltrey’s mic fell to the floor with a resounding thunk that seemed to encapsulate all of the other minor flaws experienced during the night. “That’s extra extra,” wisecracked Townshend. “That’s not the only thing that’s falling off,” added Daltrey with a laugh at his age-based innuendo. “At least that still works.” The singer placed his hand on his partner’s shoulder while singing a song that reflected upon shared glories of the past. The moment was not overlooked. Real tears were witnessed among the audience.

Daltrey offered a variation on his frequent benediction. “In the world today, think lucky,” he said. “Be lucky. Make it better.”

Townshend had earlier mentioned that he and Daltrey could reappear in Chicago someday, but not as the Who. If Townshend and Daltrey never make it back to town, Sunday’s show was a potent reminder of the Who’s determination to play by its own rules and under its own power. The song may be over, but that’s primarily due to the mortality that affects all of us. No mere calamity could stop the group often hailed as the World’s Greatest Rock Band.