Pop Records By Graham Hicks

Such an ironic fellow, Peter Townshend, calling his solo album Empty Glass (WEA Records).

Empty Glass, my eye! To listen to this album is to savor the finest cognac of rock, to recline in a Jacuzzi, to dine in restaurants where prices are discreetly omitted from the menu. All this, for under 10 bucks!

This album reeks of class. It's the best damn thing anybody connected with The Who has done since Who's Next.

Townshend, the guitarist and creative force behind the Who, agonized for years over the contradiction that rock throws in the face of its most successful purveyors.

Despite the embrace of mega-corporations, rock still is the language of youth. The Who, Led Zepplin, The Rolling Stones etc. were all rebels in their time.

The survivors of the mid-Sixties rock movement have slipped into their 30s, and now are edging to the big 40.

Those with brains in their heads, i.e. the Peter Townshends of the world, questioned their own importance. Were they, or were they not, too old to rock?

In retrospect, with Pink Floyd's The Wall and now Empty Glass, the question itself was irrelevant. Folks like Neil Young, Townshend and Roger Waters (of Pink Floyd) are first and foremost artists. Original, brilliant artists who were lucky enough to connect with a mass audience during their lives, because they were spawned in the rock revolution.

With Empty Glass, Townshend accepts and fully utilizes the changing nature of his own energies. His rock roots -- the power, thrill and urgency that driving drums and amplified guitars provide -- are secure.

But those roots are refined, sculptured, and used as a base. Townshend has found, through experience, the incredibly delicate balance between energy and melody. To rock out on a couple of songs is important to him. But so are lyrics, so are melodies, so are dynamics.

The songs on this album are so strong, one doesn't know where to begin. Townshend rocks on Cat's In The Cupboard and Rough Boys. He uses pianist Rabbit Bundrick for beautiful flourishes in his spiritual tribute to his guru, And I Moved. The production, the percussion, the general musicianship of Empty Glass is without fault.

Parody -- Townshend's cutting wit -- comes into play with Keep On Working. The pretentiousness of the British music press is slashed away in Jools and Jim, Townshend waxing indignant in a high-powered song over the response to the death of Keith Moon.

Empty Glass is an early pick for album of the year. I only wonder if Townshend, having had the opportunity to hone his own vision to this level of excellence, can possibly go back to working in the confines of a group.

Given the awesome power of this album, has Townshend still more creative juices for his Who alter-ego?