In the late 1970's The Who were a band in transition. Having lost their drummer Keith Moon after the release of the disappointing "Who Are You" album, and with eleven people dead after being trampled to death at a stadium show in Cincinnati in late 1979 during the bands first tour with new drummer Kenny Jones, the band was left reeling with an uncertain future, a record contract to fulfill, and punk rock blazing trails for younger, more vibrant bands to come along and pick up the rock n roll torch from where so many bands before them had dropped it.
It was during this time that Who leader and songwriter Pete Townshend also found himself in transition. Feeling restrained creatively by his band and the notion that The Who had to remain "true to tradition" while bands such as The Sex Pistols, The Clash, and The Jam (all of which owe more then a little to the spirit of The Who) came storming forth with the urgency and desire to tear down all that had come before, Pete was ready to move on creatively and make new music for what he saw as a coming new age in rock n roll. Even if his band were not ready to do the same. No longer content to ride the coat tails of past glories while new bands with new music were busy making the kind of history he and his own band once had, and with his own band reluctent to move forward with him and much of his new material, he did the only thing he could do against it all. He went solo.
Empty Glass, Townshends third album under his own name but his first real solo album, is quite frankly everything The Who had been years before and everything they may of been if they had given Pete a chance at turning The Who in the direction he would of liked to. Having offered most of these songs to The Who at some point and having been rejected, a resentful Townshend simply began to treat the band as a side project and an obligation, and withheld his best and better material for himself. And it is in this material that the heart of The Who can be found that came up missing on the Who Are You and Face Dances albums, respectively.
Produced by Chris Thomas (who's credits included at this point albums by Roxy Music, Badfinger, Wings, The Pretenders, and most notoriously Never Mind The Bollocks by The Sex Pistols, among others) the album kicks off with the rousing rocker "Rough Boys". Chiming guitars, rumbling bass, and synths get things started and soon after Pete and band kick in with all the firepower and energy usually reserved for bands like, well, The Who. And this song, inspired by some of Pete's run in's with The Sex Pistols and his very own kids, gets things started in fine fashion.
Next up are a couple of spiritually minded songs, which of course anyone who knows his work with The Who will be no stranger to. "I Am An Animal" is a piano driven song with gentle acoustic guitar and a propulsive beat and moments of musical granduer. A song of reflection and confession and longing for transformation, it's one of Townshends more pained compositions up to that date and works on every level, musical, lyrical, and the intended spiritual. And in fact from the halo around his head on the cover of the album to the title of the album to the songs inside, this is ultimately a spiritually based work. Only rather then wrapping the songs in a character or a story as Pete had done with The Who in the past, they are sung from a personal perspective. Which is interesting and intruiging and offers insight to not just Townshend the artist and performer, but also the person.
After the graceful and poetic "And I Moved", a song about making spritual connection and finding wholeness by way of that connection, comes the hit single "Let My Love Open The Door". A song that musically speaking would sound right at home next to The Who's "You Better You Bet". Townshend shines on vocals here, his strong tenor pushing the song forward, and the overall feel of the song is one of joy and exuburance. A song in dedication to Pete's spritual mentor Mehra Baba, it also shows his talent for blurring the lines between spiritual matters and romantic ones, as this song could very easily be about the latter as well. And in fact has been used in many a motion picture as such. An outstanding song and great single all around.
Moving from the forgiving to the wrathful for the next track, "Jools And Jim" is Townshend at his acerbic best. A song that takes swipes at some well chosen music jounalists, Pete goes on a tirade that only he and a few others in rock can pull off with flair and conviction. "But did you read the stuff that Julie said / Or little Jimmy with his hair dyed red / They don't give a *** Keith Moon is dead / Is that exactly what I thought I read / Typewriter tappers / You're all just crappers / You listen to love with your intellect" he growls into the microphone, and later sings "But did you read the stuff that Julie said? / Or little Jimmy with his hair dyed red / They have a standard of perfection there / That you and me can never share / Typewriter bangers on / You're all just hangers on / Everyone's human 'cept Jools and Jim", as if to give the knife a good strong twist. Put Chrissie Hynde behind the mic and this could easily be a Pretenders song. The band plays it strong and true here, and the production skills of Chris Thomas lends it a punky and angry base and quality. Not a great song or exceptional in anyway musically, it has the
energy, anger, and danger of the times it was recorded in, with bold lyrics and a great target to fire it's shots at, to boot. And for perhaps the first time on the record you get a clear picture of what this song, Let My Love Open The Door, and Rough Boys could of been in the hands of The Who with Chris Thomas behind the board. A band born anew, to be certain, rather then the fading rockstars they and so many of thier comtemporaries had become.
After the odd and somewhat eccentric aging gracefully (or not so gracefully) song "Keep On Working" comes the standard and uptempo rocker "Cats In The Cupboard", complete with harmonica, messy guitar, and obscure, poetic lyrics, which serves to kick off the next part of the album. But it is the next song up that is the centerpeice of the entire album. Beginning with gentle synths and chiming cymbals that would of been right at home on Quadrophenia, "A Little Is Enough" is as unabashed and unashamed a rock song as has ever been written about spiritual pursuit, spritual love, spiritual longing, and spiritual fulfillment. One of Townshends very best songs period, he states his case in no uncertain terms and summons all the committment and faith he can muster and throws it head first right into the performance of the song. "Just like a sailor heading into the seas / There's a gale blowing in my face / The high winds scare me but I need the breeze / And I can't head for any other place / Life would seem so easy on the other tack / But even a hurricane won't turn me back / You might be an island / On the distant horizon / But the little I see / Looks like heaven to me / I don't care if the ocean gets rough / Just a little is enough" he sings of his journey, and even if you don't share the same path, he and his players make you feel every single word and note of it. Once again with secular elements mixed in, this song shows the same gift as Let My Love Open The Door possesess in allowing the listener to take the romantic from it as well. But whichever way the listener chooses to interpret it, it's a stunning and moving piece that can stand comfortably alongside any Who classic you can think of.
All this spiritual joy does not come easy to the songwriter, though, as the title track of the album bears out. Always one to have struggled with his principles vs his reality, "Empty Glass" finds Pete confused, drunken, addicted, and self-loathing. Having just come clean of drink and cocaine when these songs were written, Pete takes an honest look at himself in this song and hits the floor. Claiming "life is useless" he sarcastically rants "I stand with my guitar /All I need's a mirror / Then I'm a star / I'm so sick of dud TV/ Next time you switch on / You might see me...
oh what a thrill for you" and "My life's a mess / I wait for you to pass / I stand here at the bar, I hold an empty glass". It's as naked and exposed a song as Townshend has ever written about spiritual and emotional emptiness, and it is delivered in an appropriately frustrated and angry manner. So in fact Townshend is not the rock god some would make him out to be. He is by his own desire just like you and I, and is fallible after all. Which since Tommy and even before has always been a theme in his music. Only this time it truly is personal. And because of that the musical and emotional gifts these songs bring the listener are exceptional.
Empty Glass is a fine argument for what could of been considering The Who's end years had only Roger not been so stubborn, Pete so resentful, and John, well, so quiet. Most of the songs contained on this album (including the fine Who like closer "Gonna Get 'Ya") could of easily made up the bulk of the Face Dances album, or at least half of it, alongside the best that album had to offer. For Who fans like myself it's a frustrating case of what could of and should of been after the death of Keith Moon, the addition of a new drummer and touring keyboard player, and the tragedy in Cincinnati. Entering the studio with Chris Thomas as The Who could of beared great rewards indeed. But in the end perhaps it really doesn't matter, as The Who continue to this day with what they were and what they are, and Empty Glass stands as a great album unto itself, no matter the players or the circumstances it was recorded under. Still, it's hard to end this review without a misty eyed "what could of been" and a strong desire to give Pete and Roger a good slap across the head. Roger singing "Rough Boys", "Let My Love Open The Door", and "Gonna Get 'Ya"? I can almost hear it now....
Oh well, what's done is done, I suppose. Rock on, boys.
This Message Edited On 01.31.06
