Deaf, dumb and blind were tragic enough. Now, it's a question of Tommy -- well, the voice of "Tommy" -- do we want to hear you?

At 67, Roger Daltrey -- the voice of the Who and one of rock's greatest frontmen -- has lost his robustness, control and, most significantly, his upper range. But he hasn't lost his rock 'n' roll spirit.

On Tuesday, the Rock Hall of Famer presented "Tommy," the landmark 1969 rock opera, in concert at Target Center. He delivered it like a club gig ("not an ice show," he said), like it was conceived in the recording studio, he said. Except there was no Pete Townshend, the composer and guitarist who doesn't tour because of hearing issues.

Seeing Daltrey without Townshend is like peanut butter without jelly, Mick without Keith, a rapper without a DJ.

Still, Daltrey persisted. Backed by a five-man band that might as well have been called Who Are You, the singer was more ragged than glorious. His voice was raw, his power rare, his notes flat too often. At times, when he reached for his high notes, it sounded more like he was gargling than singing. That was bordering on modern-day Bob Dylan territory -- and that's not a compliment.

Thankfully, Daltrey enlisted Townshend's kid brother Simon on vocals and rhythm guitar (it is hereditary). He was a better Pete surrogate than Daltrey was a real Roger. Moreover, when the buff Daltrey tried to execute his trademarked microphone-chord twirling, he looked as tentative and awkward as a senior citizen trying to ride a bicycle for the first time in three decades.

After the 70-minute journey through "Tommy," the suddenly talkative and eminently likable Daltrey found his footing and his voice for a 70-minute set of Who favorites, covers and tunes from his solo career (his "hobby" because "singers can't have years off like guitarists"). With his voice warmed -- or loosened -- up, he rocked, crooned and excited the sparse crowd of maybe 3,000.

Passion dripped out of "Behind Blues Eyes," romance infused the mandolin-fueled ballad "Without Your Love" and the rasp on "Who Are You" sounded right. With the only traces of synthesizer heard all night, the anthemic "Baba O'Riley" was as galvanizing as ever, and Mose Allison's "Young Man's Blues," with its nod to Muddy Waters, got Daltrey all revved up. It sounded so electrifying Tuesday that it made a hard-core Who fan want to go home and immediately listen to "The Who Live at Leeds," which contains a blistering, Townshend-sparked version of said blues number.

Daltrey was so into the second set that no one cared that he started three different songs, stopped them because he either flubbed a lyric or had problems with his sound monitors and started them over. Except he almost gave up on the finale, Townshend's "Blue Red and Grey," because he couldn't hear his ukulele. After stopping twice, he threatened to pull the plug in mid-song and call it a night. The crowd expressed their disapproval. So he tried it one more time.

Daltrey pulled it off, but after this semi-satisfying concert, Who fans may want to ask him to sing: Pete, can you hear me?