The Who Album Opening Songs Ranked

While the five-star” target>Who has been performing for an astounding 60-plus years and provided us with quite a few great moments, they’ve not been terribly prolific, releasing just a dozen studio albums in all that time. Of course, their complete discography stretches out into scores of LPs, when one counts their copious live records and compilations, but still. Six decades is a long time; 12 albums is a short oeuvre.

Guitarist and chief songwriter Pete Townshend has typically been pretty fussy with the sequencing of his band’s albums, which indicates that those tracks that kick off said albums are placed there with intent, to make opening statements, or fire purposeful salvos in the direction of the audience. Many times, it’s worked; sometimes, though, not so much.  Let us take a tour of the album-opening tracks from this small but mighty set of records—the life’s work of the Who—and rank them worst to best.

No. 12. “I Am the Sea”
From: Quadrophenia (1973)

The band’s long-form projects (Tommy and Quadrophenia) began with overtures, which in these cases meant stitched-together snippets of hooks and melodies that were to come. These work fine in the context of the larger piece, but not as standalone listening experiences. The only positive thing about “I Am the Sea” is that its two minutes of ambient ocean sounds and muted scraps of songs eventually empty into the pure fire of “The Real Me.”

No. 11. “Overture”
From: Tommy (1969)

See “I Am the Sea,” minus the ocean sounds.

No. 10. “Fragments”
From: Endless Wire (2006)

Though the title might lead one to believe they are in for yet another overture, the first new Who music since It’s Hard starts with a synth intro reminiscent of “Baba O’Riley,” filtered through avant-garde composer Steve Reich—glacial and repetitive. Repetition is actually a key component of the song, with its quasi-philosophical verses and repeated refrains like “Are we breathing out / Or breathing in?” “Are we the parts? Are we the whole?” and “Are we the thoughts? Are we the soul?” These are questions a listener might expect Townshend and company to answer over the course of the album. They don’t, really, but we suppose there were worse ways to re-introduce the band as an ongoing creative concern.

No. 9. “Armenia City in the Sky”
From: The Who Sell Out (1967)

The Who’s psychedelic dalliance was brief. This is something for which we can be thankful.

No. 8. “Athena”
From: It’s Hard (1982)

That this question mark of a song was the leadoff track and first single off what for 24 years served as the Who’s final studio album proves the band had more or less run out of steam and interest. And though It’s Hard sounds better now than it did back in 1982 (five-star review in Rolling Stone aside), “Athena” is weaker than several other tracks on the record (a record, we remind you, that contained “Eminence Front”). Not a great album introduction.

No. 7. “All This Music Must Fade”
From: Who (2019)

We’re not sure if anyone expected a new Who album after Endless Wire, or if they did, whether they expected one as solid as 2019’s Who. We do know that anyone who expected Townshend to mellow in his dotage was sadly mistaken, as he and singer Roger Daltrey rush out of the gate with as cranky a “Get off my lawn” message as any Townshend had written since 1975.

No. 6. “Run Run Run”
From: A Quick One (1966)

There’s very little to “Run Run Run” that screams “iconic”—it’s just a fine ‘n’ dandy rock song for the hip, hot, here, and now kiddies of the mid-’60s to play while commandeering their parents’ hi-fi. Sometimes, that’s all one needs.

No. 5. “New Song”
From: Who Are You (1978)

It’s 1978. Pete Townshend hates himself. He hates his band. He hates his audience. He suspects things will get worse before they get better, if they ever indeed get better. He fears he will be proven correct. He wants to lash out at everyone and everything in his path. The first victim is the guy in the mirror.

No. 4. “You Better, You Bet”
From: Face Dances (1981)

The song is so strong, Daltrey’s vocal performance so confident, the band’s playing so in stride—you might understandably have thought the Who had caught yet another second wind, that drummer Keith Moon‘s death would not mean the death of the band, nor would Townshend’s burgeoning chemical dependencies, nor his dwindling interest in writing for Daltrey’s voice. Of course, the (first) end of the group was nigh, but it was nice to be fooled into thinking otherwise, at least for five and a half minutes.

No. 3. “Out in the Street”
From: My Generation (1965)

Is it a stalker anthem, or a more innocent paean to lust at first sight? Probably the former, but the sound coming off the groove is all youthful energy, making lyrics like “I won’t stand it / If you don’t know me” and “I’ll show you woman / Yeah, that you belong to me” sound more like doe-eyed entreaties than leering threats. This was the first thing we heard from the Who, on their first record—we had no idea what we were in for.

No. 2. “Slip Kid”
From: The Who by Numbers (1975)

The Who by Numbers was a largely dour collection of material the band recorded almost by rote, with little vigor and even less interest. “Slip Kid” is an exception—an allegory for any industry, faith, or sovereign who would grind down and spit out its subjects, its truest believers. Every verse culminates in the refrain “There’s no easy way to be free,” which widens the target to encompass the listener, as well. Townshend’s guitar chords slice up the choruses, and Moon’s drums dance around a steady beat of handclaps, making it one of the more oddly propelled of the Who’s songs. “Squeeze Box” was the hit from The Who by Numbers, but “Slip Kid” is the album’s best track, a killer kickoff to a downer of a record.

No. 1. “Baba O’Riley”
From Who’s Next (1971)

A rallying cry, a social analysis, a missive from the cultural battlefields, all ensconced in a rich atmosphere of sound that moves from synthesized patterns to power chords, to a meandering folk dance in the finale. Roger Daltrey, the true golden god of his era, issues proclamations from the mountaintop, the wind sending the rain onto his face and chest while lightning crashes down upon the valley below him. He speaks to all in the wasteland who will lend him their ears—“The exodus is here! The happy ones are near!”—and warns of the “wasted” forces who would use their power to stop that movement. Yes, Who’s Next rescued pieces of yet another long-form Pete Townshend composition, but it hangs together under its own power as one of the great albums in rock, a singular monument, a statement on the state of the world’s disunion. “Baba O’Riley” is its first call of convergence.

BONUS:

“Young Man Blues” or “Heaven and Hell”
From: Live at Leeds (1970)

Live at Leeds is often and correctly included among the great in-concert documents in rock ‘n’ roll, and the lead track of its original, single-LP incarnation is a hammering take on Mose Allison’s “Young Man Blues” that sets the template for the amped-up “maximum R&B” to come. Subsequent reissues begin with bassist John Entwistle‘s “Heaven and Hell,” which actually led off the Leeds concert (Valentine’s Day, 1970) and is, if anything, more torrential, more sonically violent than “Young Man Blues.” Whichever song kicks off the copy you have, you cannot go wrong.