The Who didn't live there, but their 'Leeds' album will live forever revolver Brian Boyd on music

REVOLVER:The Who didn't live there, but their 'Leeds' album will live forever, writes BRIAN BOYD

What was exceptional about the rock star’s effusive encomium was the hilarious pronunciation he used. He pronounced the “live” in the title so it rhymed with “give”, as if the album was an indication of the band being domiciled in the Yorkshire city. I didn’t correct him simply because every time he mispronounced the title it just got funnier.

Such was the critical and commercial success of Live at Leeds that it kick-started a live album fetish in the 1970s. Two of the decade's biggest sellers were Frampton Comes Alive and Wings Over America. But Live at Leedsis unique: it's the only live rock album that regularly appears in the upper reaches of the Best Album of All Time polls. Of course, you could make a case for Stop Making Sense, Kick Out the Jamsand Nirvana's MTV Unplugged. but none coruscates quite like Live at Leeds.

The album should really be called Live at Hull, as the plan always was to do a full dress rehearsal, so to speak, at Leeds on February 14th and record and release the Hull gig from the following day. The latter was far superior in terms of performance and sonic sheen, but a technical problem meant large parts of the bass guitar went unrecorded. So the Leeds show was put out instead.

THERE'S a certain household name rock star – I'll spare his blushes – who once spent 15 minutes telling me how his favourite live album of all time was The Who's Live at Leeds. Nothing odd about that: the 1970 release is generally acknowledged as a classic.

As some indication of how important a live album this was, a blue plaque now adorns the University of Leeds Refrectrory (that’s “canteen” to you), where the show took place.

Packaged up to look like a cheap bootleg (it's still one of the best sleeve designs going), Live at Leedshas only six songs on it – cut down from a two-and-a-half-hour show – and three of them are covers. It was recorded on a cheap mobile unit in front of just 2,000 people, but put it on, turn it up loud and listen to a masterclass in rock performance. Pete Townshend is at his windmilling best, Keith Moon never sounded better and Roger Daltrey screams his tits off.

Live at Leedsrepresents The Who as a working band, "self-propelled, self-editing, self-producing and self-driven," says Townshend. "What hits you when you listen to it is you realise how much you need to see The Who."

Over the years the album has been rather stupidly tampered with by busybody record company types. The 1995 CD “remix” has superfluous on-stage banter added just to up the running time. Worst of all, Daltrey and Townshend went back into the booth to do some new vocal overdubs, which sort of misses the whole point of a “live” album.

This week sees a rather unnecessary "40th anniversary celebration" of Live at Leeds. The label has thrown everything at this: you get both the full Leeds show (including most of the overrated Tommy) and the 150-minute Hull gig, along with all the yada yada "bonus content". And again more ridiculous tinkering. Because the bass parts were never recovered from the Hull show, they've taken them from Leeds and sewn them onto Hull. Which is just wrong and and contrary to rock'n'rollness.

It’s always the same with this reissue/repackage lark: throw on something new, no matter how meaningless or trivial, to justify an expensive new price and appeal to the completist anoraks.

You don’t want to hear the full two-and-a-half-hour Leeds show, and you really don’t want to hear the “technologically assisted” Hull show. You want six songs. Thirty-seven minutes. Maximum r’n’b. Up to 11.