YOU KNOW HIM and I know him. He is that thin, handsome, frizzled mass of energy who jumps, spins, and sings his way into our lives. With jumps, spins, ands sings his way into our lives. With Peter Townsend, Keith Moon and John Entwhistle, he is part of the quartet that has piloted a generation in its magic bus.

But on his own, Roger Daltrey has only recently distinguished himself as a unique musical being. Daltrey doesn't claim to be a songwriter; indeed, it is common knowledge that Peter Townsend writes the music and plays all the instruments into a fourtrack tape machine, then brings the recorded piece into the studio for John, Roger and Krazy Keith to turn on.

Roger Daltrey knows he is a fantastic vocalist--musically and expressively--and this is all he claims to be. Heed not the cynics who call One of the Boys cliched. It is a solid album--not exceptional--but a solid, purposeful vehicle by which Daltrey's voice extends, reaches its way into your senses; not as a familiar call from the Who, but as a distinctly different musical talent.

Prior to One of the Boys, Who solo efforts have been truly cliched, clinging to the rock'n' roll vitality which propels most Who songs. The sound is the same, the feeling is the same.

In One of the Boys Daltrey sings mellow tunes, almost dreamy, and sometimes too sappy to praise. But he does them with a class and talent that no top-40 cheapie could approach. It is Daltrey's voice that reaches highs few other rock voices today could find; it is Daltrey's voice that exhibits the versatility and feeling two other tongues could carry. We've all heard Daltrey howl the Sally Simpson blues, the lament of Teenage Wastland, but the sounds of One of the Boys are both new and refreshing.

Daltrey's hottest cuts on the album are "Say it Ain't So, Joe" and "Avenging Annie" (in that order). "Satin and Lace," "Doing It All Again," "Parade," and "One of the Boys" are all solid cuts. Daltrey co-authored only two of the album's ten songs.

"One of the Boys" is the title cut and stands as Roger Daltrey's parody (if not attack) on British punk rock. For those of us who know Daltrey, it is a familiar rag, only because it parleys Daltrey's working class consciousness. Daltrey once told a reporter he was happiest to be a rock musician because "it kept him out of the factories." Daltrey's self-styled punk star of the song "is a face in the mirror that may give you a fright," a narcissistic star who graces the cover of the album, "but he's alright," the song reassures.

Daltrey is "alright" with rousing versions of "Say It Ain't So, Joe" and "Avenging Annie;" he picks up these old rag dolls and brings them back to life in a way that outshines the originals.

Paul McCartney writes one of the songs, "Giddy", and it sounds like your run-of-the-high-school Wings production, but only Daltrey's voice can survive the vocal obstacles which McCartney constructed for his own cherubic tones.

"PARADE" IS A STORY that grows on you: the story of every artist trying to be an artist. Daltrey plays the subdued observer watching the star on the stage, telling us he "never made the headlines, but I was in that scene." We know Roger has even made the cover of the Rolling Stone, but he reveals a perspective of himself and of his work that few stars have; and so Roger Daltrey remains a star.

Don't listen to this album if you are a jazzman; if you like electronic beeps and structureless trinkles, sans vocals this is the worst investment you could make. Daltrey performs quite conventional and ordinary songs; the way he performs them is extraordinary and therein lies the quality of this album and of Roger Daltrey. Daltrey is helped along by the best supporting cast and Who soloist has ever assembled: Entwhistle plays bass, Rod Argent sweeps the keyboards, even Eric Clapton brings his talents to play.

But if you like the trills of a fine human voice, One of the Boys shows why Roger Daltrey is riding his Honda 500 and having a beer at the pub, instead of weaving dacron at the textile factory. It proves beyond any doubt Daltrey is more than one of the boys.

Aja

By Steely Dan

1977, ABC records, $3.99