A Townshend of a Different Color

As Roger Daltrey tours America with Tommy, Townshend aims to branch out on his own. But we're not talking about Pete. His younger brother, Simon, is currently touring as the guitarist in Daltrey's band, giving fans a taste of what supposedly will become a Quadrophenia tour in 2012. Simon, who also tours with The Who alongside Pete, is not just riding on the coat-tails of his elder brother's success. In his own right he is an excellent musician, songwriter, and singer, and recently he used the current tour to promote his own material.

Simon Townshend appeared in a small lounge in New York City, Dominion, on September 22 to perform solo material without the help of Daltrey's band or his brother's discography. And yes, there were many rabid Who fans in attendance, but if the audience's reaction was anything to go by, Townshend has built up quite a following that shouldn't be credited to his being a rock sibling.

At the start of his set. The hot lounge forced him to lose the jacket, cap, and sunglasses quite early.

The performance itself was extremely casual. Treating the audience like old friends, he seemed relaxed and, having made a few mistakes with brand new material, was able to brush off the errors with a smile, laugh, and lighthearted obscenities. The audience didn't mind at all. Like old friends, they laughed along and provided shouts of support. Who needs a famous brother when you have such a large extended family of music lovers at your disposal?

Simon Townshend's set was a mix of new material – still obviously in their infancy as the guitarist struggled to remember how the some of the songs progressed – and old fan favorites. Having recently released an EP titled Something New, available on iTunes and for fans to purchase at the Tommy concerts, Townshend seems to have already converted some fans as they continually shouted “Looking in Looking Out” throughout the show. The EP track was obligingly performed later in the show. Older songs in his repertoire, such as “Comeback” and “Time the Healer” excited the lounge goers who shouted approval at their immediate recognition of the tunes. He certainly isn't an unknown talent.

In the moment with his playing.

As I spent much of the show observing his playing technique, Simon has obviously learned a thing or two from his brother. Okay, let's be honest, watching him play is nearly like watching Pete's rather iconic style of playing, especially when he strums with a flamenco-esque flair, but Simon has molded his playing to still seem completely unique to himself. And perhaps also reminiscent of Pete was Simon's apparent ability to put a great deal of genuine emotion into his lyrics, as he explained that his wife was the inspiration for one of his latest songs. Possibly the most daunting reminder of his brother's fame during show came from a presumably inebriated fan who enjoyed shouting “Captain Walker” between every song, as if to make sure Townshend didn't forget the path through which his fan-base had come to him. But if the heckling affected Townshend in any way, it didn't show. He was in good spirits throughout and thanked the audience for coming and made sure to push his EP and an expected studio album to arrive early next year.

Townshend's playing technique upclose and apparently personal.

For those only familiar with the more well-known side of the Townshend family, I suggest picking up a copy of simontownshendis, a compilation of Simon's work that should set you off in the right direction. And if you find yourself unable to disconnect from the “Pete connection” and wish to know Simon's feelings on being related to one of the most famous figures, if not noses, in rock history, check out the track “Highness.”

Re-Vinyl: LP Revival

Now that we're a decade into the 21st century, you'd think that we would have completely moved on from archaic forms of, well, anything. Films are on DVD, or downloaded; VHS is dead and laser-discs are the cinematic equivalent to mummies. Music is no different. CD's are becoming as desirable as cassettes were fifteen years ago, competing against digital formats and the iTunes powerhouse. Therefore, vinyl is utterly dead, right?

Not so much. According to this article, vinyl records have made a massive comeback in the past few years. But why? The same article gives a few suggestions: nostalgic value for older generations, the retro-cool factor for younger generations, and the personal connection the listener has with the music.

To me, this is the most important and enjoyable part of listening to vinyl. As a listener, you're more aware of the music when you have to place a needle on the surface, careful not to scratch the delicate grooves. You have to play attention to know when to flip the record, or change to the second record. Paying attention is necessary when listening to a good album. I know I have been guilty in the past of mindlessly listening to amazing music and not absorbing it the way the artists intended, which I believe is the major curse of the digital age. I've placed my headphones over my ears, the jack inserted into my iPod, set on shuffle, only to realize an hour or so later as I stare bleary-eyed at my laptop that I can't even remember what I had just been listening to. Vinyl doesn't allow it as easily. The second you start playing an LP, you are much more determined to pay attention to the tracks and the placement of the needle, at the very least with the intent not to damage the disc from neglect.

Why do I even collect vinyl? I developed the habit thanks to my father, who was smart enough to never get rid of his collection from his youth. Many of my friends haven't been so lucky, and have mentioned that their parents had abandoned their collections years ago. But thankfully my father's records live on, and at a young age, for whatever reason, I was fascinated. At the age of seven I knew how to use our old, now sadly deceased Technics turntable and I became proficient at repeating "King Tut" off  A Wild and Crazy Guy. And as I grew older and developed a more refined taste and understanding for my father's music, I wanted to expand upon the collection he had begun, and fill in the gaps with my own interests. As a result, my dad's three or four Pink Floyd albums have become eight or nine, his four Who records now stand a dozen or more strong, and every Kinks record in my household exists only because I sought them out (and that number is more than thirty, not including 45s). So my reasons for desiring vinyl stem from my relationship with my father and the connection we share with good music.

Of course, my reason is not that of everyone. Having frequented the Brooklyn Flea and several record shops in Greenwich Village, NYC, I can tell you that vinyl collectors are everywhere. Unfortunately, there is a small number of people who collect for the sheer necessity of maintaining their hipster chic lifestyles. Retro is in, and having vinyl records and a travel-case turntable look great in instagram photos off of one's iPhone, posted on Facebook for the world to see. There are budding musicians who buy vinyl to keep up a certain amount of audio-credibility amongst their peers. Although, there is good reason according to a musician friend of mine who says the clarity and quality is superior in vinyl records than current MP3 formats, which compress the music too much. Admittedly too many concerts and long periods of time wearing headphones have ruining my ability to picking up such subtleties, but I don't doubt his claim. But for the most part, I believe the majority of collectors do it for the pure love of the format and a love of music.

The cyclic fashion world has also allowed for vinyl to survive. As I said, retro is always "in," and vinyl records appear in trendy graphic designs on t-shirts (again, for those hipster fashionistas). They are also recycled for centerpieces in your home or even jewelry. A quick search on Google reveals hundreds of projects one can take on to recycle unplayable or non-collectible records into anything from clocks, purses, and bowls, to coasters, bracelets, and even book covers. And perhaps we should be proud of this record recycling, especially with green living slowly on the rise. Rather than expanding landfills with useless discs, the vinyl is metamorphosis-ed into something usable and artistic, even if the music imprinted in the grooves is lost forever. And on a further artistic note, vinyl record sleeves preserve the art of the album cover, which was once almost as much a selling point as the music contained within. The limited picture size of CD's and digital downloads cannot match the beauty of a twelve-by-twelve image. Sometimes size does matter.

Will the rise in record sales, the increase of new and old record vendors, and the interest in relatively old format continue? I certainly don't have the qualifications to guess. I can only hope so, because I still have records to find.