​Tommy, Can You Hear Me? The Who's VR App Is a Bummer

Compilation albums for ageing dad rock bands are almost always musical pabulum—vanilla tours through a band or artist's long career that leave you wondering what you really expected in the first place. Now, thanks to The Who, you can have that same experience… in virtual reality.

As a tie-in with the release of their 23rd compilation album, The Who Hits 50!,the band announced plans to release a new virtual reality app that will take fans on an amusingly literal visual and aural tour through their catalogue. Magic buses and pinball machines are promised to abound, according to Billboard, as the user flies through a virtual world filled with amusingly on-the-nose Who-related stuff.

The 3D app, which will work with Oculus Rift, is slated for release next year. The 2D version is out today on iOS and Android. I tried the 2D version in a fit of nihilism, and unsurprisingly it's terrible.

As soon as the app starts, so do the classic rockin' tunes—"I Can't Explain," "My Generation," "Who Are You"… Yeah, baby. I could feel my pushbroom 'stache budding. There is a very magical-looking bus present for you to look at—for about half a second during an intro video. The rest of the experience involves flipping through virtual tabletops displaying era-specific posters and a TV playing concert footage of the band.

According to reports, the Oculus version will expand the functionality of the 2D app. Apparently there's going to be a pinball machine and some sort of social aspect. But it's hard to see how that will save it.

The world is ugly. The concept—flying around a hilariously literal world based on the music of a band that were themselves so rarely innovative—is boring, despite the promising technology it employs. I would call it a turd of an idea but at least turds can surprise you by showing up in the mail after having been purchased with cryptocurrency and sent from Slovenia.

The Who released their first two single compilations concurrently in the UK and America in 1968. Many more have followed and they've all pretty much contained the same smattering of truly classic and fatherly rock 'n roll hits, with a few change-ups here and there.

Now, decades after those first cash-ins were released, one might reasonably assume that the most banal, pointless, and frankly awful thing the wrinkly patriarchs of padre power pop could do was release yet another compilation album. Not so—somehow, the announcement of a half-baked virtual reality app tops it.