The Who: Sweat, Bollocks & Guts

IN ORDER that you wouldn’t get lost in the huge Universal Studios complex, accidentally find yourself on a glam-tram and off on a tourist-view of plastic life-sized Jaws, polystyrene avalanches and bionic man testing centres, or stuck in a Lincoln Continental-jam on the way up the hill to the Universal Amphitheatre, where Frank Sinatra has been crooning to 6,000 people a night this week, dayglo signs were posted along the street in the vicinity: "Who Are You?" and an arrow.