IT'S downright depressing to think almost a quarter of a century has elapsed between this release and The Who's last album of new material.

Mrs Thatcher and Ronald Reagan ruled the West; mobile phones resembled housebricks; reality television was unreal; and internet was what Yorkshire football teams aspired to.

Was the 24 intervening years worth the wait for devotees of one of the globe's premier rock/pop bands? The answer is a qualified yes. Endless Wire, which also comprises Wire And Glass, the latest in Pete Townshend's rock-opera obsession, hints at former glories, even though the original four have been halved by the Grim Reaper.

The power still pulses. The Who's waterfall soundscapes pound on. Tumbling, broiling keyboard cascades, thunder-rumbling guitar chords, all accentuated by Roger Daltrey's dynamic vocals, which have been softened and made more subtle by age.

Such elemental force resonates loudest and proud through Mike Post Theme and Mirror Door, the latter from the mini-opera. Equally uplifting are a run of more reflective compositions such as A Man In A Purple Dress and God Speaks Of Marty Robbins, where Townshend is at his most passionate and eloquent.

The mini-opera, however, fails to fully engage, largely because such a constrained conceit is muddy without the visual interpretation of other operatic Who incarnations, Tommy and Quadrophenia. But all credit to Townshend, who has always been a fearless innovator. That courage sometimes takes him into polemics, but if anyone deserves to air the tract of his fears, then it is him.

In the sleeve notes Daltrey declares: "The Who is now two and for me it still works." Quite, just don't wait an entire generation.