In review
'Empty Glass'
Pete Townshend has a lot of sad wisdom and years of age -- a sensitification of values and beliefs brought about by his association with The Who since its early 1960s infancy.
Townshend and the group he founded have been through an unbelievable amount of tragedy -- the OD death of drummer Keith Moon, the horrible aftermath of their Cincinnati concert in which unknown to them, 11 were killed, the pain of being booed at a show in the mid-1970s -- which cuts a harsh perspective on their own songwriting and philosophy.
Townshend, as a man, is probably the ultimate spokesman for the group.
Townshend knows it and he understands it best himself; maybe why he recorded his first solo album (a 1977 album, "Rough Mix") as a collaboration with ex-Face member Ronnie Lane) to interpret his own music in "Empty Glass."
There are better singers than Townshend around. There are bands who could give such driving songs as "Cat in the Cupboard" an earthier treatment.
But all the crystalware in Townshend's album is his and he presents it from the heart in some arresting arrangements and strong lyrics.
As usual, the song that showed up on the Top Forty is not nearly the best in the album. "Let My Love Open the Door" simply bounces along, compared with the throb of "A Little Is Enough," a clearly superior song about the satisfaction in a love relationship that comes, not from the synergism of the passionate moments, but from the security of the close existence.
It's taxing to get too wrapped up in many of Townshend's lyrics, however: despite the "no generalization is worth a damn, including this one" spirit of "Jools and Jim," his musical strength is still melody and presentation.
One wishes he could put the fascinating mind he holds forth in an interview into some of his music better, and one suspects with more solo work he can.
Right now, however, Townshend's obscure (and obviously well-read) allusions are a little deeper than most of us can pick up simply by putting needle to stereo. That is not always good.
"Rough Boys," a tribute to the New Wave rock that's revitalized the music of even those who play commercial sounds, comes through pretty clearly in both meaning and lyric. It's a spirited piece of work, in contrast to "Empty Glass," (the reference is actually to Persian Sufi poet Hafiz' likening of God to wine) which tortures itself verbally, too much so for a decent song.
(Those who read Rolling Stone magazine would also know that "Jools and Jim" is a blast at some snotty rock critics; but should we care?)
The reason the lyric problem even gets in the way is that Townshend writes music that makes one want to listen. When solemn vocal is contrasted against the rippling piano in "And I Moved," one finds oneself wanting to hear what the man has to say as much as what he sings.
That's helped immeasurably by some superb piano and organ by John "Rabbit" Bundrick and bass by Tony Butler.
Townshend has put together a superior sound for his debut. Ditto for the composition: even a snicker song like "Keep On Working" has a catchy melody (in fact, it may be better because Townshend is relaxed in content), part of a collection of eminently listenable rock.
There are still "Who-isms" which materialize now and then, such as in "Gonna Get Ya," but Townshend shows he knows what he's doing melodically with help or influence from no one.
The result is a good album that suggests the feeling Townshend can do even better. "Empty Glass" is a good enough beginning that we would like to see how he fills it.
