ROCK RECORDS:

Reviewed by TOM HARRISON

A few demons get loose . . .

EMPTY GLASS. Pete Townshend (Atco).

Because Pete Townshend considers The Who its own living entity, he has used his outside work as an opportunity to express aspects of himself that would not be appropriate to the separate, but collective, personality of a Who album.

Empty Glass, Townshend's second solo album (excluding the rewarding Rough Mix collaboration with ex-Face Ronnie Lane), is similar to his first, Who Came First?, which emerged from the aborted Lifehouse album that Townshend had prepared for his spiritual mentor Meher Baba. Empty Glass is a project that Townshend embarked on well over a year ago before he signed a solo contract with Atco.

Just as Who Came First? contained hangover material from Lifehouse, Empty Glass shows Townshend trying to come to terms with a few problems (such as aging and confronting the punk past, present and future), which he seems to have ironed out by getting back on the road with the group - which in turn has benefited from the frustrations expressed on this album.

The best thing about Pete Townshend's frustration is that it usually is translated into angry, kinetic rock. "Rough Boys," which leads off the album, has Townshend caught between wanting to run with the punks, because he applauds them and identifies with them, and remembering that he's a married man who becomes melancholy when he's had too much to drink and who has lived all that. All he can do is relive it through his kids, to whom the song shares a dedication with The Sex Pistols.

"Jools And Jim" is a passionate rebuttal directed at Julie Burchill and Tony Parsons, two of England's nastiest (but most provocative) rock critics. Though it makes a few statements that are true for the lot of us, "Jools And Jim" is not anti-critic and is not a pouting rock star sounding off. It demands that writers care at least as much for the flesh and blood they're writing about as they do for the snappy sentence, with its calculated controversy and cruel wit, that scores points with the tragically hip.

Both tracks continue the train of thought of The Who By Numbers and Who Are You albums but are far more personal.

"And I Moved," "Let My Love Open The Door," "A Little Is Enough," "Empty Glass" and "Gonna Get Ya" deal more specifically with Townshend's spirituality and his relationship with his wife, Karen. "Keep On Working" is Townshend counting his blessings.

These are things that would never turn up on a Who album, though they do allow a moving glimpse of the man who shaped The Who into a major force in rock and roll.

They also make Empty Glass an eloquent, unsentimental offering that for the most part avoids Townshend's penchant for transforming rock into a monumental youth crusade in which youth just can't win. Instead Pete Townshend lets a few demons loose and confesses his domesticity.

Knowing his demons exist is reassuring. This ain't Paul McCartney you're listening to, Jack.