Pete Townshend: Music that's vital, passionate, tempered with clarity, purpose

What a year. Not even half over yet, and more than a dozen fine LPs already released — Elvis Costello's ever-entertaining, ever-revealing Get Happy!! The Pretenders' startling debut; Robin Lane and the Chatbusters' out-of-nowhere power-pop panorama; Rodney Crowell's cool cult country on But What Will the Neighbors Think; the punk-powered panache of the Undertones' Hypnotized; The Clash's dynamic and dramatic London Calling, the electric exhilaration of The Specials.

All of the above, you'll notice, are end-of-the-'70s, welcome-to-the-'80s bands and artists making tomorrow's music today. Ironic, then, that the best record to be released this year is by a man literally old enough to be the baby uncle, if not the father of many of these performers.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO, Pete Townshend stood proud as a contemporary of The Beatles and the Stones and Bobby the Z. Today, he stands even prouder as a contemporary of Tom Petty, Ian Dury and The Clash. Townshend is still making music as vital and passionate as ever, tempered with a clarity and purpose that is attained only through the process of growing older.

Empty Glass is Townshend's first realized solo LP. In the early '70s, when The Who seemed to be on the verge of splintering, Townshend made a record called Who Came First. It was an apt title. The record, while possessing a certain charm, was actually little more than a collection of demos and odds and ends of songs originally intended for The Who. A couple of years back, he made a duet LP with former Face Ronnie Lane, called Rough Mix. Again, the title was apropos. The record alternated Lane's folky, loping little songs with Townshend's more world-weary waxings. It worked, roughly.

THE FIRST THING, then, that's apparent about Empty Glass is that these songs were not written with The Who in mind. There are no moments when one longs to hear Roger Daltry's vocals or misses John Entwhistle's pulsating bass lines. The Who's drummer, Kenney Jones, is present on a couple of cuts; but, since he's yet to establish his personality with the band (he's recorded only a couple of released cuts in his short tenure) any comparisons are invalid.

From the opening power-chords of Rough Kids, which Townshend dedicates to his daughters and to the Sex Pistols, Townshend makes his intent clear. The song, which toasts the vitality of youthful rebellion while gently warning of the dangers of burn-out, firmly establishes the tone of Empty Glass. It rocks with a vengeance, but with intelligence and maturity as well. The advent of the New Wave has had a profound effect on Townshend, but in an affirming sense. While geezers like Keith Richard are threatened and angered by the rough kids, Townshend embraces them with undisguised glee.

THAT THREAD runs constant through Empty Glass, with Townshend integrating all the fun and anger of the best rock and roll with the spirituality that has marked nearly all of his recent work. (The cover makes a joke about it: Townshend is photographed being seduced by two nymphets and a bottle, while a halo circles his elongated skull.) Three of the record's best songs -- I Am an Animal, the title cut and Let My Love Open the Door (a simple pop song that boasts the best vocal arrangement of any record I've heard in ages) -- all reflect Townshend's adherence to the teachings of the mystic Meher Baba, while acknowledging that man can not live in the material world and neglect, or be immune to, its pleasures.

THE MARVEL here is that, while Townshend's faith is obviously strong, he never descends into the preachiness that mars the work of George Harrison and Bob Dylan. For Townshend, the questioning and the search seems much more important than finding the answers. The glass, when empty, is just waiting to be filled, says Townshend.

There are few rock and roll singers who deserve our respect and admiration, but Townshend is owed that and more. Empty Glass is as personal a statement as the best LPs of Paul Simon and Dylan, while at the same time as universal a rock album as, say, something like McCartney's Band on the Run or Petty's Damn the Torpedoes.

And, this time, Townshend came first.