Coming out in 1973, Quadrophenia is often overshadowed by its older sibling Tommy, but for many fans, this is Pete Townshend’s true masterpiece. It arrived when The Who were at the absolute peak of their powers as a live unit. It’s a conceptual double album that looks back at the Mod subculture of the 60s – not with rose-tinted glasses, but with a raw, honest look at identity, teenage angst, and feeling out of place.

The sound is absolutely thunderous. It’s The Who at their most muscular, but also their most sensitive. You’ve got these layers of synthesizers and brass arrangements that give it a cinematic, operatic feel, but at the heart of it, it’s still four guys playing as hard as they can. John Entwistle’s bass is basically a lead instrument here, and Keith Moon’s drumming is as beautifully chaotic as ever. It sounds big, wet, and incredibly British.

“The real me” is a fantastic, high-energy opener that introduces the protagonist’s fractured personality, while “5:15” captures that chaotic rush of a train journey to the coast perfectly. Then you have “Love reign o’er me”, which is quite possibly Roger Daltrey’s greatest vocal performance – it’s powerful, drenched in emotion, and serves as a staggering finale to the journey.

Quadrophenia remains essential because it captures that universal feeling of being a teenager trying to belong to something. It’s a very “rainy day” record – it feels like a walk on a cold, grey beach in Brighton. It’s complex and deep, but it never forgets to be a rock record first. Every time you listen, you notice a new texture or a recurring musical theme that makes the whole experience feel like a proper event.