
Pete Townshend - Empty Glass [1980]
Drummer Simon Phillips was surprised when I asked him if he had time for some questions. ‘Of course’ he said, after a short hesitation.
On May 4th he was a guest at the Boerderij with his band Protocol. Phillips is a super friendly man, both on and off stage.
But he didn’t expect a question about record covers, because usually the questions are about his gigantic drum kit or about complicated rhythms. So he had to think long about the question of what his favorite album cover was of all the records he plays drums on.
Understandably so, because Phillips plays drums on dozens of LPs as a studio musician (in my LP collection alone on forty albums). From drummer with Toto in the nineties to LPs by Mike Oldfield, Jeff Beck, Gary Moore, 10CC and Jon Anderson.
Suddenly Phillips got a twinkle in his eye. He had the answer to my question: ‘Pete Townshend – Empty Glass’!
Now it was my turn to be surprised. Thoughts like ‘Oh, what cover was that again. And do I even possess this record?’ went through my mind. The next day I went home to investigate. It turned out I still had this particular record in my collection. I had completely forgotten about it. I put it on for a while and had to conclude that this was a typical case of the-cover-is-better-than-the-music.
Empty Glass is Townshend’s third solo studio album. The album is about things Townshend was struggling with at the time: alcoholism, drug abuse, marital problems and deceased friends, in particular Keith Moon, former drummer of the Who, who died in 1978, at the age of 32.
On the inner sleeve he writes cynically: ‘Thanks to Remy Martin Cognac for saving my life by making the damned stuff so expensive’. He was also struggling with his marriage at the time. He was on the verge of getting divorced; he had been too busy with the groupies who were queuing up for him after the show. The cover is full of symbolism for a life full of booze and women. On the cover Townshend himself stands in the centre, photographed by famous Irish pop photographer Bob Carlos Clarke.
What immediately stands out is an aura around Townshend's head. At that time, the Brit sought his salvation in the mystical Sufi teachings of the Indian guru Meher Baba. Baba was the source of inspiration for Townshend to search for spirituality and the meaning of life. Baba gave Townshend all kinds of double messages that can be found on the inner sleeve: 'Desire nothing except the non-desire'; 'When you want nothing, you get everything'. And: 'Only when the glass is empty, you reach the sanctuary'
On the cover, Townshend seems to be able to resist the pleasures of booze and women, given the aura. That was also the case in reality. With Baba as his teacher, Townshend stayed away from drugs and ventured into the world of philanthropy. To be honest, I didn't really follow Townshend. The Who was a bit too much of a rock band for me. Tough music for 'real men'. I was never much of a rocker. I was just a skinny guy without any muscles and little testosterone in my blood. When I grew my beard, I didn't get much further than a mixture of pubic hair and sandpaper on my face.
Photographer Bob Carlos Clarke was destroyed by booze and women. He took beautiful erotic pictures of drop-dead gorgeous models, but his perfectionism got in the way. He was never satisfied with his work. He couldn't resist the temptation of alcohol, became depressed and jumped in front of the train in a South London subway station at the age of 55. How sad.
The typical drum sound of Simon Phillips can be heard clearly on Empty Glass. Phillips is now 68 years old and still lets rip now and then. He is a welcome guest at the Boerderij and played a great show with four top-notch American musicians. His life has not been ruined by booze and women. His glass is generally empty, he stands with both feet firmly on the ground. Truly impressive, because he has seen almost the entire world during his performances, groupies and all.
Unfortunately, I was not able to talk to him about that. Our conversation was short, because he had to leave quickly for the next show, in Hamburg. But the meeting was long enough to be suitably impressed by this modest man.
Gerrit-Jan Vrielink
Translator: Alex Driessen