SoundStage! Global | SoundStageGlobal.com - Rock of Ages—A History of the Townshend Rock Turntable

There are few audio products that are truly revolutionary, that can legitimately claim to have redefined the state of the art. These include Edgar Villchur’s Acoustic Research AR-1 (1954), the first-ever acoustic-suspension loudspeaker; the Quad ESL (1957), the world’s first commercial full-range electrostatic loudspeaker; the original AR turntable (1961), also designed by Villchur, which established the template for every sprung-subchassis turntable that followed; the Technics SP-10 (1970), the world’s first direct-drive turntable; the BBC LS3/5A monitor (1975); and the Philips CD100 and Sony CDP-101 (1982) CD players, which ushered in the digital era. I believe another product belongs on this list: the Townshend Rock turntable (1982).

The “Red Rock,” Townshend Audio’s factory demonstrator Rock II, resprayed by the RockDoc, with Excalibur tonearm on Townshend Seismic podium. What cartridge would you expect me to fit to it but a Hana Umami Red?

The Townshend Rock deserves its place in the pantheon because it introduced a wealth of engineering-led approaches to extracting the information on a vinyl disc with supreme accuracy. Of all the turntables ever designed up to that point, the Rock is the only one that applied physics, mathematics, and materials science in their purest forms to the business of vinyl replay. It was conceived at Cranfield University, a UK postgraduate research institution specializing in science, technology, and management, by some of the finest engineering minds in the world. It began with neither preconceptions nor desires to follow established practice.

Cranfield University—one of the finest engineering universities in the world, and perhaps the only university with its own runway

It’s a turntable, then, but not a turntable like anyone at that point in time had ever seen or heard. It remains, 43 years after its launch, a legendary transcription device that, with the right ancillaries, is still capable of world-class vinyl replay.

The gestation of the Rock

The founding father of the Rock was Jack Dinsdale, professor of mechatronics at Cranfield. Mechatronics is a branch of engineering that seeks to integrate mechanical and electronic engineering—which, when you think about it, is the perfect discipline for a turntable designer.

Dinsdale was also a keen music and hi-fi enthusiast who by the late 1960s had begun to feel that record decks had not evolved to the same degree as amplifiers, loudspeakers, and phono cartridges. He started examining leading turntable designs from this era to find out why. What he discovered was that the leading turntables of the day broke many of the rules of Newtonian mechanics, kinematics, lines of action, and reaction of forces. In addition, Dinsdale believed that none of these designs was embracing the latest advances in materials science, structures, and technology, which he was applying to the design of precision machinery.

Cranfield Rock prototype (picture courtesy of the RockDoc)

Dinsdale headed up the Cranfield Unit for Precision Engineering (CUPE), which had recently designed a revolutionary hydrodynamic non-contact bearing capable of operating at low rpm values. This development was based upon the work undertaken by Philips Electronics on aerodynamic gas bearings designed to support gyro-compasses, which rotate at 100,000 rpm. The design essentially floated the bearing on oil, resulting in zero metal-to-metal contact. Dinsdale knew that such a bearing would be theoretically ideal for use in a turntable, as it would lower the level of rumble and excess vibration read by the cartridge. The bearing design was patented by Cranfield, but regrettably Cranfield management sold the rights to Garrard; from there they passed to Plessey and then to a firm called Gradiente of Brazil. For decades none of these firms ever used the bearing design themselves, but they consistently refused to permit Cranfield to use it in the Rock turntable. It must have been extremely frustrating for Dinsdale to be denied the right to utilize his own design. As a result, the only Rock in existence with a hydrodynamic non-contact bearing is the original prototype.

The second CUPE development that Dinsdale earmarked for the new record deck was synthetic granite, which was invented by H.J. Renker of the Swiss engineering company Fritz Studer AG. CUPE further developed this material and acquired the rights to manufacture and market it as Granitan 100. This material comprises 95% granite chips and 5% epoxy resin as a binding agent. It’s as stiff as cast iron but has ten times its internal damping, qualities that would make it ideal for the plinth of a record deck.

A change of role for Dinsdale at Cranfield saw him in a new teaching position as part of the Department for the Design of Machine Systems. The significance of this was that each of his master’s students had to complete a six-month full-time project on which to base their thesis. This provided access to a pool of elite postgraduate brains allied to the world-class engineering and prototyping facilities of Cranfield.

Enter Max Townshend

Dinsdale set his students the task of working on each element of the design of a new reference turntable. From 1977, Michael Pezet worked on the main bearing, while John Hardwick worked on arm resonance. It was Hardwick who came up with the signature silicone damping trough, which remains the defining characteristic of every Rock turntable ever made. From 1978, Michael Clayforth-Carr accepted the challenge of integrating Pezet’s bearing with Hardwick’s arm damper to produce a functioning turntable design. For reasons of simplicity, this first prototype used chipboard and aluminum rather than Granitan for the plinth. The first working prototype was up and running by October 1979.

The Rock development team (left to right): Professor Jack Dinsdale, Max Townshend, and John Bugge (picture courtesy of Townshend Audio)

While all this activity was going on at Cranfield, as a keen audio enthusiast, Dinsdale attended the International Festival of Sound held in Harrogate in August 1979. Following a long railway journey, excited by the buzz of the show, he forgot to eat. And after a few hours exploring the show on an empty stomach, the room started to spin and he fainted. The next thing he knew he was slumped in a chair and being tended to by a stranger; the stranger turned out to be Max Townshend, who offered him coffee heavily laced with brandy—that man always had style!

Townshend hailed from Sydney, Australia, and had graduated from the University of Western Australia with a bachelor’s degree in electrical engineering. In his early years, he worked on a variety of engineering projects, including instruments for submarine-detection systems for the Royal Australian Air Force and the first microwave landing system (MLS) for London’s Heathrow Airport.

But Townshend’s real passions were music and hi-fi, in that order, and as a result he launched EEI (Elite Electronic Improvements) in 1975, initially marketing unique parabolic-stylus cartridges. Elite Gramophones was started concurrently with the marketing of the first Rock turntable.

Elite Electronic Improvements, Max Townshend’s first company, sold a range of audio accessories, including alignment gauges and cartridges (picture courtesy of the RockDoc)

After that initial meeting, Dinsdale invited Townshend to visit Cranfield to see some of their pioneering work. A few weeks later, well lubricated after a convivial lunch, Max had his first encounter with the turntable that was to change his life.

Michael Clayforth-Carr first demonstrated the prototype deck through a basic audio system without the damping trough, and the sound was nothing special. Then he fitted the damping trough and Townshend’s jaw hit the floor. He immediately offered to sponsor the project and wrote a four-figure check to the department on the spot. Back in 1979, that was a significant sum.

What’s with the trough?

It’s worth reiterating that a record player is a device for measuring microscopic undulations in a record groove. These undulations are tiny—as small as 0.001mm, about the size of a bacterium. To measure them, the stylus must travel down the groove at the correct speed and not be vibrating or displaced by other external forces. The theory behind the silicone damping trough is that by supporting the tonearm at both ends it is easier to keep the cartridge body and the record surface in precisely the right position relative to each other over a very wide frequency range. Without a trough and a paddle dipping into it to support the headshell, a typical turntable relies on the support of the arm tube—and hence on a bearing over 20cm away. If the arm is undamped and has frictionless bearings, there’s nothing to restrain it; worse still, typical arm resonances at around 10Hz will only be loosely controlled. This means that the slightest provocation in the groove from warps or sudden transients will cause the arm to weave to and fro at around 10Hz in antiphase with the stylus. Such large stylus excursions will also cause the generator assembly to operate at the limits of its travel, where linearity is worst.

The silicone damping trough applies damping to the arm and cartridge at frequencies within the audio band (picture courtesy of the RockDoc)

The team at Cranfield realized that the trough imparts a viscous drag (damping) on the arm that is proportional to its speed of movement. At low speeds (e.g., warps and changes in groove pitch), the drag is negligible, but at higher speeds, drag increases until at 20Hz the arm is effectively locked in position right up to the 20kHz range and beyond—that is, the entire audioband. The trough also significantly reduces bearing rumble by rigidly coupling the cartridge at signal frequencies to the plinth and therefore to the platter. This minimizes any rumble vibration common to both the record and the cartridge. In practice, this unique feature reduces rumble by around 20dB.

Matt McNulty’s (the RockDoc) “Bluey”—the Townshend Rock II finished in Ford Escort Cosworth blue

The silicone trough is unique to the turntables manufactured by Cranfield and Townshend. I suspect other manufacturers didn’t copy the design for patent-related reasons, but also because of fears that the trough was a step too far in terms of user inconvenience. SME (and other manufacturers) later offered a different kind of silicone damping trough on their tonearms. The SME Series V tonearm and Series IV (as an option) offered a trough located at the arm pillar. The advantage of the SME-style system is that their tonearms can be used in the same way as any other arm—the trough and paddle are invisible and seamless to the end user. The Cranfield team argued that the optimum point to apply damping is as close to the point at which the erroneous vibration is generated as possible, that is, at the cartridge end, not at the bearing end. The Cranfield solution prevented resonances from traveling down the arm tube to the bearings and thus degrading the sound.

The original Cranfield Elite Rock prototype

At the start of the 1979 academic year, a new student joined the team—John Bugge—who embarked upon developing a plinth and platter in synthetic granite (Granitan) for the turntable. He had a busy year, and threw himself headlong into creating a damping trough in aluminum, incorporating the hydrodynamic fluid bearing, refining the arm design, and developing the platter drive.

The spectacular Cranfield Elite Rock prototype (left) and the production Rock Mk I it spawned (right) (pictures courtesy of the RockDoc)

Dinsdale obtained a direct-drive brushless motor driven by a three-phase power supply from the Kollmorgen Corporation of Virginia, USA, having worked extensively with the firm over the previous seven years. Keen to ensure accurate speed control despite the vagaries of the public electricity supply, he knew he would need a digital clock. And having resolved to use a digital source for the master frequency, it made sense to use digital techniques for measuring the rotational speed. CUPE had been conducting extensive work on moiré-fringe-grating technology, which involved fitting a suitable grating on the underside of the platter that could be read by a fringe-sensing system and digital servo developed by Bugge. Even in 2025, most high-end turntables don’t have such a sophisticated speed-control system. In the 1970s, this was virtually unheard of.

The prototype; note original prototype arm (picture courtesy of the RockDoc)

Unfortunately, after much experimentation, the direct-drive motor could never be made to perform as quietly in terms of rumble as a belt-drive solution, and so the Rock reverted to a more conventional belt drive. One original prototype exists with the direct-drive motor, hydrodynamic bearing, and Granitan plinth (as restored by Matt McNulty, a.k.a. the RockDoc). This is the very same model that was used by Townshend and Dinsdale to demonstrate the concept at shows back in the early days. It remains the purest incarnation of the original design as envisaged by the Cranfield team and Townshend and is thus incalculably valuable and rare. It is, after all, the only one in the world.

The only one in the world (picture courtesy of the RockDoc)

Once the decision was made to dispense with a direct-drive design, subsequent prototypes had the platter being driven around its main circumference—unlike many other turntables, which drive an inner subplatter on which the main platter sits. This is because the team found that driving the platter perimeter resulted in less motor vibration being transferred to the platter through the belt and also enabled the motive force acting on the platter to be closer to the plane of the record itself. Driving anywhere but on the plane of the record on a suspended deck can induce a rocking motion, which becomes worse the further from the plane of the record the belt is. Tight bearing tolerances of course mitigate this, but the ideal is to drive in the plane of the record. The disadvantage of driving the outer rim of the platter is the fact that belts of such length tend to stretch more than shorter belts driving an inner platter. This leads to speed inaccuracy as the belt wears. As will be seen later, the only production Rock to drive its outer platter was the Mk I production version, marketed as the Cranfield Elite Rock.

A unique tonearm is born

The underlying theories of tonearm design were by this time well understood. Percy Wilson, technical editor of Gramophone magazine, had proposed as early as the 1920s that optimum offset and overhang were vital to minimizing tracking distortion, and most high-quality commercial arms of the time embraced this. What they didn’t do was ensure that all external forces acted through a single point, which was also the center of gravity and through which passed the center lines of every bearing. Dinsdale explained all of this to Bugge, who set about designing a new tonearm to incorporate these concepts.

The resulting tonearm was utterly revolutionary. Everything possible was damped, and forces were arranged to occur in a plane coincident with the record surface. The headshell was made from magnesium, chosen because of its excellent stiffness and self-damping qualities. This headshell incorporated a small outrigger and paddle for use with the damping trough. For extra rigidity, an additional headshell support could be optionally fitted (and was, on a later adaptation of the Excalibur tonearm for the Rock Reference ’table). However, all early production Rocks used a single-outrigger headshell. The headshell was tapped for cartridge mounting and fixed to the stainless-steel arm tube with a scarf joint chosen for high torsional stiffness and bonded using advanced glue and three pins. Stainless steel was chosen for the arm tube because it could be fabricated into thin-walled tubing of a wide diameter, which increased its rigidity for a given mass. Importantly, the rate that steel transfers sound in the form of vibration is very high, and this determined the upper frequency limit of rigidity. To increase this limit even further, the arm was built slightly shorter than standard. Unusually, the inside of the arm was filled with low-density polyurethane foam to further damp arm resonance. There have been multiple iterations of the Excalibur tonearm throughout the Rock’s life, and all are superb in their own right—for the most part only suited to Rocks, of course, because of the outrigger-paddle assembly at the headshell end.

The original Cranfield tonearm was manufactured in black (picture courtesy of Graeme Jackson)

The tonearm used high-grade ball-and-roller bearings to achieve maximum mechanical coupling between the arm tube and the arm mounting. The bearings were adjusted so that at normal temperatures there was just a small amount of play, to ensure they would not seize at temperature extremes. Bearing rattle was prevented by the use of a silicone damping fluid surrounding the bearings. The counterweight at the rear was slung noticeably low to ensure the center of gravity remained at the plane of the record surface, and was offset from the arm tube to be in line with the cartridge tracking the record groove. (Townshend returned to this arrangement for the later Rock 7.)

Later, Townshend returned to the offset-counterweight design on the Excalibur for the Rock 7 (picture courtesy of Mik Bhavnani)

Following completion of his master’s thesis, Bugge, with Cranfield and Townshend’s approval, decided to set up a company to manufacture the first commercial Rock record player, which Townshend’s company Elite Gramophones would market. The prototype sounded extremely impressive and was demonstrated at all the main UK audio shows later that year to widespread acclaim. It was also used at home by Dinsdale and Townshend for pleasure.

Cranfield Elite Rock Mk I (1982)

Unfortunately, it took 18 months longer than planned to bring the production Cranfield Elite Rock Mk I to market in 1982, and some corners were cut in the production version.

Townshend The first production version: the Cranfield Elite Rock Mk I (picture courtesy of Graeme Jackson)

This unusual-looking turntable had a plinth constructed of laminated layers of chipboard and aluminum, filled with Granitan. The top plate was composed of machined aluminum and used a fluid-damped bellows suspension from the original Cranfield prototype to decouple the platter and motor from the plinth. The motor pulley emerged from a cutout in the top plate. The platter was made from a steel frame filled with plaster of paris and topped with a thick rubber mat. Uniquely among production Rocks, this model featured drive from a stepped motor pulley to the outer rim of the platter, not to a subplatter. The damping trough was plastic and mounted to the aluminum top plate and differed little from later production versions. A small record clamp was available as an option.

Townshend Graeme Jackson’s beautifully maintained Cranfield Rock Mk I. Note the peripheral platter drive (picture courtesy of Graeme Jackson)

The Cranfield Rock Mk I was supplied with the original arm developed by Bugge for the Cranfield prototype, with a few minor changes. Unfortunately, the motor tended to run rather hot, and the bearing tolerances caused problems, seizing in hot weather. The design also often suffered from speed instability due to poor manufacturing tolerances and quality control. Only 250 units were built, and the company was wound up later that year.

The Elite Rock II arrives (1985)

Max Townshend believed the Rock still had a future, despite the project having run out of money. He decided to throw what money he had into redeveloping the design to reduce the costs of production. The result was the Elite Rock Mk II, launched in 1985. Out went the expensive Granitan plinth and fluid-damped suspension of the Mk I version, and in came a steel-frame plinth and platter filled with plaster of paris. In later Mk II production, a PVC top layer was mounted to the platter to better match the impedance of vinyl. Drive was via an Airpax synchronous AC motor from a stepped motor pulley for 33⅓ and 45 rpm to the subplatter via a round-section belt. The whole assembly sat on Sorbothane spheres (initially these were squash balls!) to provide some vibration resistance, while the design incorporated a neat screw-down record clamp to iron out warps and to couple the record more effectively to the platter. The bearing was a conventional inverted stainless-steel type running in a brass sleeve.

Townshend Roy Pritchard’s beautiful and original Rock II

Has anybody come up with a better naming scheme for a turntable than Max Townshend? Calling the turntable the Rock, the arm Excalibur, and the optional power supply Merlin was an inspired choice. High-end turntables have often been perceived as a combination of 80% engineering and 20% sorcery, and here, indeed, was the proof! The turntable launch price was a compelling £299, while an optional wooden plinth surround and dustcover could be added for £89.

The Excalibur was redeveloped and used from Rock II production onwards. However, it was improved later on for the Rock Reference with a double-outrigger headshell. Initially the Excalibur cost £299, while the Merlin power supply offered electronic speed control for £125.

Compared to the extravagant pricing of today’s leading turntables, this seems like a bargain, even allowing for inflation. Thus, a fully loaded Elite Rock Mk II could be yours for around £800 in 1985. At the time a Linn Sondek without arm cost £430 and a Michell GyroDec £595. Today, the flagship Linn Sondek costs £25,000, and many competing designs cost more. To own a top-flight turntable would never be so affordable again.

A fine example of an original Townshend Rock Mk II with Excalibur tonearm and Merlin power-supply unit. Note the long and narrow design of the Merlin (picture courtesy of Jacko Du Plessis)

Close-up on Townshend’s original Merlin power supply, which was designed to be the same depth and height as the Rock Mk II (picture courtesy of Jacko Du Plessis)

Reviews of the time were generally very positive, though some were critical of the damping trough getting in the way. There was also some criticism that the arm bearings were not frictionless. Almost unanimously, however, the Rock was praised for its astonishing transparency and superb bass control. Many reviewers cited its performance as being more like listening to a master tape than a vinyl record—high praise indeed.

Townshend Keith Tracy’s beautiful Rock II in Lotus Elise Metallic Aubergine after the RockDoc rebuild (picture courtesy of Keith Tracy)

Over 3500 units of the Rock II were sold, so it remains the most common iteration of the Rock even today. Thanks to McNulty, many examples of the Rock have been upgraded and are still giving listeners pleasure. As the RockDoc, McNulty offers a refurbishment and custom-restoration service for all variants of the Rock. McNulty can finish the turntables in stunning automotive paint colors. In addition, there is a plethora of potential upgrades, from new platters to better-quality motors, ceramic bearings, Kondo pure silver internal or Townshend Fractal wiring, sophisticated power supplies, and even color-matched on/off switches and bolts to coordinate with the chosen color of your plinth.

Townshend Matt McNulty’s fully rebuilt Rock II / Excalibur “Zesty” in pearlescent orange (picture courtesy of the RockDoc)

Townshend A RockDoc-upgraded Rock II complete with Merlin power supply in Alfa Romeo Red (picture courtesy of Michel Jouveaux)

The Townshend Avalon (1987)

By 1987, the standard Rock II and Excalibur tonearm had each risen in price to £450, meaning that with the Merlin power supply, the whole combination came in at over £1000. Townshend turned his attention to developing a cheaper turntable, which he dubbed the Avalon (another inspired name!).

The aim of the Avalon was to offer some of the benefits of its larger brother at a lower price point. The Avalon retained the silicone damping, albeit a shallower version, but was supplied without an arm. Townshend recommended the giant-killing Rega RB250 tonearm as the best option for retrofitting the paddle assembly. The plinth was made from MDF, rather than the metal frame filled with plaster of paris used in the full-fat Rock. The platter was PVC to give a good impedance match to records, particularly with the later-supplied record clamp. Despite the cheaper manufacture, the Avalon was a handsome deck, with its black plinth and brushed-aluminum trim. The finishing touch was a smart smoked-acrylic lid. This turntable was manufactured at the firm’s factory in the suburbs of West London.

Townshend Avalon turntable (picture courtesy of Townshend Audio)

Reviews at the time praised the Avalon for offering many of the characteristics of the Rock itself, including remarkable bass control and note delineation. It wasn’t quite as staggeringly transparent or dynamic as the Rock, but it got admirably close for a budget turntable.

Not content with developing two new turntables in just two years, Townshend continued to innovate in other areas of audio, and turned his attention to equipment isolation. Given that a turntable has to accurately measure minute fluctuations in a spiral record groove, Townshend knew that improving turntable isolation would confer great benefits.

While other firms were relying on spikes and nothing else, Max was experimenting with Sorbothane and rubber-and-air suspension. This pioneering work led to the development of the Seismic Sink platform. This remarkable device used a bicycle inner tube as a bladder between the two main surfaces of a steel-shelled platform to isolate vibrations. This was only the beginning of Max’s quest to isolate audio equipment and led directly to the huge range of pioneering isolation products marketed by Townshend Audio today.

Townshend’s original Seismic Sink platform contained an inflating bladder (picture courtesy of the RockDoc)

The Rock Reference (1989)

Being an inveterate tinkerer, Max Townshend always had an eye on improving the Rock II. These efforts culminated in what some regard as the finest Rock ever made, because it was built with almost no cost constraints. Townshend had relocated his family and factory to Malta in pursuit of better weather (and also incentives offered by the government of Malta). So for three years, manufacturing of later Rock Reference turntables as well as plaster-of-paris-lined Glastonbury loudspeakers was conducted from there, rather than the firm’s base in West London.

The lavishly appointed Rock Reference (picture courtesy of Townshend Audio)

Introduced in 1989, the Rock Reference was more lavishly appointed than any of its forerunners. The Reference came adorned in gloss-black acrylic and was both bigger and heavier than any previous version. The platter alone weighed 18 pounds, while the chassis and plinth added another 30 pounds. The platter was a tour de force and was manufactured from layers of bitumen and lead, filled in with plaster. The whole was encased in an aluminum skin and integrally bonded to a thick PVC mat. The platter took 24 hours to make and had to be baked. No platter in the history of turntables would be so complicated to make again, due to CNC machining becoming the norm.

Cut-through schematic showing construction of the Rock Reference (picture courtesy of Townshend Audio)

The subchassis was again a steel outer skin filled with plaster and lead, with a PVC arm board attached. Drive was from a Philips Airpax synchronous motor via a flat belt to the inner subplatter. An electronic two-speed drive circuit (a modified version of the Merlin) was hidden in the rear of the plinth, while an outboard box housed the transformer. The bearing was an extremely high-tolerance design developed from the Rock II, with a groove machined into the shaft for oiling a tungsten-carbide insert in the tip, giving a bearing point at the center of gravity of the platter and thus aiding stability.

Touch controls and built-in illumination on the Rock Reference (picture courtesy of Townshend Audio)

Control was via three illuminated touch switches for 33⅓, 45, and off, while on the top plate the legend “Rock Reference” was illuminated in red. Cleverly, the LED system incorporated an ambient light detector, and so the brightness varied according to light levels in the room. Under the subchassis were three dashpot spring/damper assemblies filled with silicone fluid, as per the Cranfield prototype and Rock Mk I, while the plinth rested on seven Sorbothane feet for further isolation. The black color of the turntable was enlivened by the solid-brass finish on the trough-locking mechanism, the screw-down record clamp, and the counterweights of the Excalibur tonearm.

The Excalibur was slightly changed, but still comprised a stainless-steel arm tube with internal foam damping, while the bearings were damped too. As previously, the magnesium headshell was rigidly glued and pinned to the stainless-steel arm tube and incorporated the paddle assembly for the silicone damping trough. The tonearm now used what was known as the double-outrigger headshell of two layers, which supported the paddle more rigidly. Instead of gloss-black, the arm was finished with black Nextel to preserve its looks and to further damp the whole arm. The bearing housing also slightly changed to become more rounded.

Note double outrigger on Rock Reference (picture courtesy of Townshend Audio)

Reviews were ecstatic, both for the stunning looks and the reference-level audio performance. This was the finest Rock turntable built to date and retailed at £2690 in 1988, complete with the Excalibur tonearm. It was considered to be one of the best turntables of its era, with many reviewers citing it as the most accurate and closest to sounding like a master tape. Even by today’s standards, its performance is considered superb.

Viewed in hindsight, this seems a bargain for the engineering on offer. Estimates are that only between 49 and 150 Rock References were ever made—and it’s suspected that the lower figure is more accurate—so even 35 years after its launch, the Reference is a highly sought-after vinyl spinner.

One famous user was the late legendary audio reviewer John Bamford of Hi-Fi News, who used a Townshend Rock Reference as his benchmark turntable for many years, along with his Townshend Glastonbury loudspeakers.

Townshend John Bamford with his Rock Reference turntable, which is believed to be one of the first production models ever made (picture courtesy of Hi-Fi News magazine)

The very first Seismic Sink equipment supports (1992), also produced in Malta, used Townshend’s very effective air-bladder design. The downside was the requirement to pump up the units every six months!

Around 1992, Townshend returned to the UK, frustrated by the dust on Malta complicating production as well as by bureaucratic red tape. He relocated the company to a factory unit at Tims Boatyard on the riverfront at Staines-upon-Thames.

It was Townshend’s Italian distributor who commented that the Seismic Sink transformed the sound of his speakers, and this set in motion a 30-year odyssey into equipment isolation. Early Townshend stands incorporated air bladders from the Seismic Sink, then moved to bungee cords. Townshend knew, however, that the air bladders deflated and that rubber degraded, so he spent many years trying to find a solution to this conundrum—and the final isolation platforms and stands use the pods we know today.

The Townshend Rock III (1996–1998)

Townshend Thierry Driscoll’s factory-standard Rock III, which is believed to have been a pre-production model or factory mule used as a test-bed for development, pictured prior to restoration (picture courtesy of Thierry Driscoll)

Townshend’s interest in isolation proved pivotal when he came to design the next-generation Townshend Rock III, which launched in 1996. The plinth was made from a frame composed of two steel layers with an air-inflated bladder between them. The main bearing was an inverted design with a hard steel ball against a tungsten-carbide thrust pad with a hardness of 14,000 Rockwell. The bearing pin was cut with a groove (à la Rock Reference) to draw oil up its spiral to the top (an idea Townshend probably copied from the Michell GyroDec, designed by his great friend John Michell). The bearing point was again arranged so it was at the center of gravity of the platter. The platter this time was made from acrylic (another GyroDec touch!), chosen for its close impedance match to vinyl records and far lower production cost compared to the complex and expensive engineering of the Rock Reference design.

Thierry Driscoll’s gorgeous purple Townshend Rock III with Transrotor TRA 9 arm after the RockDoc rebuild (picture courtesy of Thierry Driscoll)

Surprisingly, this third edition of the Rock was built in Texas rather than West London. This came about when Townshend met oilman Dave L. Davies at the Heathrow Penta show in the early 1990s. Davies had heard sound coming from the Townshend Audio exhibit and thought a live band was in the room, so was astonished when he entered to find it was a Townshend Audio hi-fi system playing. He purchased every product that the firm made, and from then on, the pair because firm friends. So when the time came to produce the Rock III, Max was persuaded to have it made in Houston. In fact, Townshend elected to move there himself to oversee production, so commuted home to his family in England from 1996 to 1998.

In truth, North American audiophiles had adopted the Rock more eagerly than their counterparts in the UK, where the Linn Sondek reigned supreme, thanks to a press who actively supported the Linn-Naim power axis. Like other turntables of the time from Michell Engineering and Nottingham Analogue, the Rock was seen as an outsider, and sales suffered as a result. I believe that a convincing argument can be made that the Rock and the GyroDec were more neutral than the Linn Sondek LP12 at the time, but the preference then was for musicality, not necessarily accuracy. To what extent this hampered domestic sales will never be known, but it certainly created headwinds for companies trying to establish themselves in the UK, no matter how good their performance and engineering. To move production to the USA made sense, given that this region enjoyed the highest sales by far.

Townshend Matt McNulty’s remarkable custom-painted red Rock III (picture courtesy of the RockDoc)

On the Rock III, the Excalibur tonearm is fitted with the familiar double-outrigger and paddle from the Rock Reference; however, other arms could be fitted with an external outrigger for use on a Rock III if desired. Drive to the platter was via a precision-ground flat belt from a synchronous motor attached to the base. The underside of the suspension was attached to the turntable base, which incorporated three adjustable feet for leveling; a circular spirit level was set into the top of the plinth. It’s just one more example of Townshend’s genius for design—even today, how many turntables offer an integrated spirit level?

Townshend Plinth design revealed on Thierry Driscoll’s Rock III (picture courtesy of Thierry Driscoll)

Speed change is accomplished by means of a stepped motor pulley or by use of an outboard power supply. The power supply was ingeniously built into a special Seismic Sink support shelf, upon which the turntable could be placed. The Rock III could also be powered from a standard Merlin.

The Rock III is more difficult to find on the secondhand market than the Rock II—reflecting the lower numbers produced—but sales were solid, and the turntable received positive reviews from across the world.

The Townshend Rock Reference Master (2001)

The next two Rock turntables to emerge from the mind of Max Townshend are elusive and mysterious. The first was the Rock Reference Master, and only a single example was ever built. It’s still at the Townshend factory and is arguably the highest-performing of all Rock turntables. This was to be the new top-of-the-line Rock Reference turntable, but unfortunately proved too expensive to manufacture. It had a number of unique features, including remote control adjustment of VTA (what a boon that would be to cartridge reviewers!). In addition, the design was to offer speeds of 33⅓, 45, and 78 rpm via touch-sensitive controls.

Townshend The only surviving picture of the Rock Reference Master (picture courtesy of Hi-Fi Choice magazine)

The final innovation on the Reference Master was something that Townshend had been working on for some time: automatic optimization of tracking angle. It’s well known that all record players except those fitted with linear-tracking tonearms suffer tracking distortion as they traverse a record. With a conventional tonearm, the optimum stylus-to-groove angle can only occur at two single points. When setting up a turntable, tracking angle is usually set at those two points of an LP side, so that errors at those two points are zero and the rest are minimized. By actually moving the arm base automatically during replay, tracking-angle distortion can be eliminated. Townshend took this route because he believed that linear-tracking tonearms introduce their own set of difficult problems. If the Reference Master had made it into production, there is no question that this would have been the most advanced Rock turntable of all. It’s interesting that both Reed and Thales, among others, have now released tonearms that take this into account.

The Townshend Excalibur, complete with Reference Master motorized arm mount (picture courtesy of Townshend Audio)

During my research involving the factory archives, I did manage to find a few pictures of an Excalibur tonearm mounted on its unique Reference Master mounting plate, complete with motorized mount. As can be seen, it was a formidable piece of engineering and design.

Townshend Rock Anniversary (2004)

Max’s next creation was the Townshend Rock Anniversary. According to the family, only a single prototype was ever built. Max’s daughter, Harriet Townshend, suggests that this prototype was in fact made for Steinway, which is an interesting twist! For those who have often pondered why the well-known variants of the Rock seem to miss certain numbers (jumping from, for example, V3 to V5 to V7), it’s because variants like the Rock IV (Rock Anniversary) ended up stillborn.

Erstwhile Hi-Fi Choice contributor Jason Kennedy conducted a review of this turntable in that magazine’s October 2004 edition—in fact, it’s on the front cover. This gorgeous satin-stainless-steel-clad turntable was to be priced at £5500, with the accompanying Excalibur arm priced at £2000. It’s worth noting that the Excalibur used in this review was the original from the Cranfield prototype, and that it wasn’t put into production at this time. The introduction of the Rock IV coincided with the 25th anniversary of the original Rock prototype. Townshend set out to build a stunning sequel to the Rock II and III, incorporating everything he had learned in a quarter of a century. This only makes it even more tragic that it wasn’t eventually released.

The deck itself was imposing and crucially marked the reappearance of the full-blown Excalibur tonearm as originally designed at Cranfield by John Bugge for the Cranfield Rock Mk I.

At first glance, the plinth appeared to be comprised of two layers finished in matching stainless steel and filled with plaster of paris (the Townshend organization must have gone through a mountain of the stuff). In fact, the upper layer was the plinth itself, while the lower section was the power-supply unit, which was decoupled from the plinth by rubber spacers. The power-supply design was another version of the Merlin, sporting a blue power LED at the center and electronic speed selection as well as fine speed control. Drive was to the subplatter rather than the periphery. The platter itself was PVC, which was non-reflective and effectively drained energy from the stylus and turned it into heat. A record clamp was employed for coupling.

The imposing masterpiece that was the Townshend Rock Anniversary (picture reproduced with permission of Hi-Fi Choice magazine; first published September 2004)

The whole deck was isolated via four suspension towers with sprung load cells, one at each corner, thus moving towards those fitted to Townshend’s current line of Seismic Isolation platforms. With its four corner towers, there’s something reminiscent of SME’s Model 30 about the design, although the underlying suspension system was different, as it used load cells. Naturally, the deck still carried the Townshend damping trough, although this time constructed entirely from polished aluminum.

The entire turntable was an homage to precision metal engineering, and as a result it was incredibly striking—and likely expensive to build.

At the time of its premiere, Townshend hinted that some of the enhancements that had been developed for the Reference Master, such as electronic VTA adjustment, might one day make an appearance in the Anniversary. But sadly, it was not to be.

In his Hi-Fi Choice review, Kennedy noted that the “trough effect,” which eliminated so many of the resonances of conventional turntables, led to a sound that was utterly different from anything else on offer. It removed the comforting warmth of decks of the period, and replaced it with an almost digital level of precision, especially in the bass. He went on to point out: “That is perhaps why the Rock never became the pre-eminent turntable of the era, because it sounded so unlike anything else”.

Having recently reviewed the latest Linn Sondek Klimax LP12, I totally understand Kennedy’s point. All of that cuddly midband warmth that was an intrinsic quality of the Linn Sondeks of the Rock era has now been engineered out by Linn. The general trend of turntable development has seen other manufacturers move their turntables towards the Rock in sonic presentation, as they have sought to become more faithful to the original master. Play any serious reference turntable, such as the SME Model 60, the AVID Acutus, or indeed my own GyroDec / SME IV / Lyra combination, and what’s striking is how many of them now resemble the Rock sonically. Even today, the Rock, in any of its many variants and equipped with a suitably high-end cartridge, can still compete in bass articulation with the world’s finest. To be offering this level of performance 20 or 30 years ago was almost unprecedented.

The Rock V (2007)

This brings us to the exceptionally rare Rock V, which some suggest matches or even beats the original Rock Reference sonically. The Rock V was a deliberately less-exotically engineered turntable than the Rock Reference Master. Out went the sophisticated power supply with its fine speed control and electronic speed selection. Out too went the electronic adjustment of VTA and the moving arm base that optimized tracking angle as the arm traversed the record. No outboard power supply option was offered initially, so speed adjustment was achieved by moving the belt to a different section of the motor pulley. Latterly, a Merlin PSU was offered as part of the package, but in a different box than previous Merlins. The turntable cost £4500 and the Excalibur arm £2500 at launch in 2007.

In an effort to reduce production costs further, the Rock V borrowed quite heavily from the Rega parts bin. Instead of restarting production of the original Excalibur, a new Excalibur was fitted with a main bearing, arm lift, bias, and arm-base housing derived from the Rega RB300. To this was added a steel arm tube, which was clamped and cradled above the bearing housing to permit overhang and azimuth adjustment. The magnesium headshell was scarf-jointed to the steel tube, and the magnesium outrigger/paddle was bolted to that. To the rear, a cool new Townshend double-counterweight design was fitted in polished steel. In addition, the main bearing, glass portion of the platter, subplatter, motor pulley, and drive belt were all sourced from Rega.

Townshend The magnificent Rock V (picture courtesy of the RockDoc)

One of the reasons that the RB300 series was such a giant-killer was Rega’s production volumes. Using this as the basis of the new Excalibur enabled Townshend to offer a higher-quality arm at far lower cost than anybody else. It’s unlikely anybody in the world was designing and building more tonearms than Rega back then. Probably only Technics ran them close. VTA adjustment was possible via a grub screw in the arm pillar, accessed via a groove in the white-PVC arm board.

The plinth was finished in stainless steel polished to a mirror finish, and oh boy, was this a seriously beautiful turntable! On the front panel, a single blue LED in the center denoted power on. Aluminum plates were attached to the front and rear to further damp the plinth, and the whole assembly sat on a 6mm-thick steel base and four rubber feet for isolation. The subchassis was made from plated steel and powder-coated before being filled with plaster of paris and isolated by mounting it on three damped springs.

Each spring in the suspension was a Townshend load cell—essentially a rubber bellows with a small hole. When the spring gets compressed or stretched, it changes the air pressure in the rubber bellows, which resists (damps) the movement. The rate at which the bellows expands or contracts depends on the diameter of the hole, which directly affects the rate at which pressure can be equalized. In many respects, this is similar to an air-shock on a mountain bike resisting movement until the internal pressure equalizes. It is largely the same mechanism as the Townshend Seismic suspension products marketed by Townshend Audio to this day. The resulting suspension was quite stiff compared to sprung-subchassis turntable designs of the era, which relied on springs but didn’t have the air-shock component to damp their movement.

The turntable utilized a Rega glass platter, which was bonded to a thick slab of white vinyl (PVC) via a damping-compound layer. The record spindle was threaded to accept the revised record clamp, and the central portion could be raised or lowered to adjust the clamping action or to center 45s. The record clamp was a more substantial affair than before and sported a blue Townshend logo on top.

The damping trough was taken from the Rock Reference and again offered height adjustment to cater to different cartridge heights; it could be locked in place by a central cam lever. The trough came finished in gray, with stainless knobs to match the steel aesthetic. The deck also had parking rings for the record clamp and a drip tray for users who wanted to park their arms outside the trough.

Reviews of the time describe the Townshend Rock V as having an extraordinarily low noise floor, superb bass precision, and excellent timing. Mik Bhavnani of the Watford, UK, dealer Unique Audio—the biggest retailer of Townshend Rocks in the country at the time—inherited his love for the Rock from his father, Manik Shivaram Bhavnani. Manik was obsessed with them, and became a close friend of Max Townshend. Mik has a very large collection of Rock turntables, and his Rock V was apparently personally delivered by Max Townshend, complete with the Excalibur arm, the day before his wedding. Mik describes the sound of the Rock V as being tonally lighter than the Rock Reference, but also concedes that all References sound quite different due to the lead content being differently dispersed in each chassis.

Despite favorable reviews, sales volumes were low. The factory has no record of how many Rock V turntables were actually built, but it wasn’t in production for long, and they are extremely rare on the secondhand market. Perhaps they’re so darned good that their owners don’t want to part with them.

Matt McNulty, who has heard every production Rock variant ever made apart from the Anniversary and the Reference Master, is of the opinion that the Rock Reference, Rock V, and Rock 7 Mk II with Merlin and later-model Excalibur represent the sonic pinnacle in terms of production decks. He also points out that it’s likely the unique Rock Reference Master would trump them all. He believes that the Rock Reference sounds the best, but he notes that “the Rock V and Rock 7 sound less damped than the Reference, so that’s just my preference, and other people could easily prefer the V or 7. To be honest, I just love the no-compromise build of the Rock Reference.”

The Rock VI?

No records exist of a turntable bearing the name Rock VI, but that could be because Townshend may have chosen to regard the Reference Master as the sixth generation of this venerable turntable. Although the Reference Master had emerged in 2001 as a prototype and so predated the Mk V, Townshend continued to tinker with it on and off over the years, refining his design for the electronic VTA adjustment and continuous tracking-angle optimization via a moving arm base.

We will thus never know if there was ever a Rock VI prototype officially, but I would like to think that Max would never have deliberately numbered the Rock 7 in error. As mentioned, the lack of linear progression in the nomenclature of Rock turntables may be explained by stillborn development prototypes. As an example, I have, late in the writing of this article, received from Townshend Audio a picture of a mysterious green turntable that may have been a pre-production prototype for a Rock IV.

This mysterious green Rock prototype appears to be have been created around the Rock III era due to its use of a Rock III record clamp, Reference Excalibur, and early era Seismic Sink (picture courtesy of Townshend Audio)

The Rock 7 (2008–2014)

The Rock 7 marked the culmination of a 35-year journey from Jack Dinsdale’s pioneering design work on turntables at Cranfield—or perhaps more accurately 26 years, since the first Cranfield Elite Rock was launched in 1982. This final design was somewhat different from all previous plinth-based Rock variants because it was a skeletal design reminiscent of recent designs from Rega, such as the Rega P10, or, indeed, the AVID Acutus.

Rock 7 Mk I showing its skeletal plinth design (picture courtesy of Townshend Audio)

The important thing is that the Rock 7 incorporated the most vital aspects of previous Rock turntables. The plinth, such as it was, consisted of a minimalist black powder-coated 6mm-thick steel structure decoupled from its supporting base by three Seismic load cells. For years, Townshend had been working on equipment- and speaker-isolation supports. The supports went through many iterations (e.g., the Stella stand), but culminated in his development of the load cell. The air shock, or load cell, was tuned to resonate at a frequency far outside the audioband (approximately 3Hz).

The Rock 7 motor was a freestanding AC unit in a metal housing driving the stainless-steel subplatter via a round-section drive belt. Speed change was accomplished by slipping the belt over the stepped motor pulley. Initially, no electronic speed change was available, but later a new Merlin was launched that added this feature. The main polyethylene (HDPE) platter was initially supplied in black, but later this was changed to white. The non-Merlin version used a round-section belt, like the Avalon, the Rock II, and the Rock V (non-Merlin version). The main bearing was a tight-tolerance sleeve bearing with the oil drawn up from a well at the base of the bearing.

Rock 7 Mk II, showing all elements including separate motor housings (square is Mk I housing, circular is Mk II housing) and horizontal counterbalance emerging out of the left side of the deck (picture courtesy of Townshend Audio)

This time the tonearm supplied was an Excalibur, comprising a thin-walled arm tube affixed to a Rega RB250 bearing unit, with a Townshend dual outrigger and paddle mounted on the headshell. At launch, the Rock 7 hit its incredibly competitive £1500 price point, or £3300 including tonearm. A cheaper version was offered for a while for £999 without the damping trough, but to choose that model on account of budget was pointless, as the trough had been so integral to the Rock sound for nearly 30 years. If you didn’t want a damping trough, why buy a Rock at all?

An unusual feature of the Rock 7 was the counterbalance system positioned on the left-hand side of the deck, which could be moved in two directions horizontally, both forward and backward. This was essentially an adjustable arm with a mass mounted on it, and permitted the chassis to be balanced depending on the weight of the tonearm and cartridge fitted. After balancing, the counterbalance could be locked in position. This was required because the load cells fitted to the turntable had no adjustment built in (unlike Townshend’s current line of Seismic supports).

Townshend Kevin Belson’s Rock 7 with acrylic support platform (picture courtesy of Kevin Belson)

In many ways, the Rock 7 was the original Rock concept distilled to its purest and most minimalist form. The Rock 7 was manufactured again at Townshend Audio’s factory in West London. The deck was initially engineered for maximum simplicity to hit a price point and is clearly a simpler design than, for example, the Rock V. Later, the Rock 7 morphed into the Rock 7 Mk II, and with that came some changes, such as electronic speed control in the form of a new Merlin, utilizing a flat belt and pulley, and, very late on, towards the end, a “new” Excalibur tonearm, which was a precision-engineered version of the original Excalibur. There were other enhancements: bearing changes, slight modifications to the motor housing, and a general tidying up of the ergonomics. An acrylic cover was offered that sat atop the trough to exclude dust, but by that point the Rock was sadly selling less and less. It was eventually discontinued, ironically just before vinyl sales and production soared, missing the upturn in sentiment towards vinyl.

Townshend Rod Baxter’s Rock 7 Mk II with Origin Live Encounter Mk2.5 tonearm and Benz Micro Glider cartridge (picture courtesy of Rod Baxter)

Again, contemporary reviews were extremely favorable, describing all the usual Rock attributes—superb bass articulation and control, with closeness to the master recording. The Rock 7 sold in reasonable numbers, but by then the company had a sizeable business providing its Seismic supports, electronics, and cables, which were more profitable and cheaper to engineer.

Townshend Revised Merlin power supply with new outer case design (picture courtesy of the RockDoc)

I think the truth of the matter is that despite widespread global acclaim for the Townshend Rock in all its variants, a decline in the popularity of vinyl and the fact that Max was working on other things took his focus elsewhere. In the early days, the press was slow to champion a product that differed so radically from contemporary designs, but eventually the Rock garnered widespread support because it sounded better than almost anything.

It is true that some customers were slightly put off by the notion of operating the silicone damping trough and concerned about the possibility of spilling the material on their precious records. Having borrowed two Rocks for use in the writing of this article, I believe this to be a non-issue. The silicone fluid is of such high viscosity that even pouring it into the trough is a slow process, so it’s rather difficult to spill. Its main disadvantage to me seems to be the risk of dust and contamination falling into it, but even that was solved by the Rock 7 Mk II with its acrylic cover over the trough.

The Rock 7 continued in production until 2014, but was to prove the last of the line. The final chapter closed on one of the most innovative and engineering-led turntables ever designed.

After the Rock

Townshend Audio continued to innovate in areas such as equipment support, and their refinement of the load cell led directly to the launch of the Seismic Podium in 2014. This remarkable device transformed the performance of the loudspeakers or turntables placed on top of it—and actually improved their looks too! I can attest to the remarkable improvement in articulation and clarity these provided when used under my ATC SCM40 loudspeakers. Adding them to my system is one of the most significant sonic upgrades I have ever made. Once again, Townshend had defied industry convention, which dictated that spikes provide optimum equipment isolation from vibration. If you believe that, I suggest you ride a mountain bike isolated from trail vibration by a suspension with spikes and then come and ride mine with its plush air-shock suspension in front and rear, and tell me which you prefer.

Townshend Seismic Podium under the author’s ATC SCM40 loudspeakers—one of the most significant sonic upgrades he has ever made

It’s no exaggeration to say that my addition of a Townshend Seismic Platform, which uses calibrated load cells, under my Michell GyroDec to isolate from floor-borne vibration has been revelatory. For years, I battled with the GyroDec skipping when people walked past on my carpeted-timber lounge floor. Adding the Seismic Platform reduced this problem significantly. It was eradicated entirely by mounting both equipment racks on Townshend Seismic Bars calibrated for weight. Furthermore, the level of articulation and detail across the entire frequency spectrum is now massively improved.

The author’s Michell GyroDec now suspended on a Townshend Seismic platform

The author’s system equipment racks, now suspended on Townshend Seismic Bars

Reflections and ruminations

The Townshend Rock remains an icon of vinyl replay and is perhaps the ultimate expression of the purist turntable engineer’s art. It sprang from the genius of a small number of individuals, but without any one of them, it may never have attained the levels of exacting performance that it did. Professor Jack Dinsdale, Max Townshend, Michael Pezet, John Hardwick, Michael Clayforth-Carr, and John Bugge all deserve great credit for their contribution to the science of vinyl replay.

That the Rock made it into production is testament to tenacity in the face of problems that must have seemed insurmountable at times. It’s a classic British underdog story—a group of postgraduate students led by two visionaries in an organization with hardly any money, trying to compete with the goliaths of the audio industry, and winning. It’s comforting to know that for the rest of Max Townshend’s life, he and Jack Dinsdale remained close friends, and the two would often discuss design issues related to subsequent Townshend products.

Professor Jack Dinsdale and Max Townshend celebrate the Rock: Rock Reference (front), possibly Michael Clayforth-Carr’s original Cranfield prototype (front left), Cranfield Elite Rock Mk I (middle left), Townshend Avalon (rear left), Rock II (rear right), Rock III (middle right) and Cranfield Elite Rock Prototype (front right) (picture courtesy of Townshend Audio)

What they collectively produced is a turntable that through sheer engineering excellence got closer than any other at the time to the original master recording. The Rock, Excalibur, and Merlin didn’t look like any other turntable-and-arm combination and didn’t sound like any of them either. The bass was dry, rhythmic, and accurate, but devoid of the bloom that plagued so many competing designs of the era. The treble was extended and precise but occasionally criticized for being recessed; I would argue it merely extracted more detail than usual from a microgroove record. The noise floor was exceptionally low, which enabled subtle ambient cues and microdynamics to be more easily revealed. Perhaps listeners weren’t used to something that sounded so different—which makes it even more ironic that turntables since have tended to evolve to sound more like the Rock does, as they became more accurate and uncolored.

Townshend “Red Rock” factory demonstrator Rock II, resprayed by the RockDoc, takes its place beside the author’s Michell GyroDec

It’s likely that no more than 5000 Rock turntables were ever made during its 30-year production period. If you own one, you are a fortunate member of a very elite club. Their creation is largely due to the passion and visionary genius of Max Townshend, who continued to develop the Rock for three decades. That so many examples of the Rock remain in use to this day is a testament to the fundamental excellence of the design and the quality of production engineering within.

It’s also a testament to Matt McNulty, the RockDoc, who has applied his lifelong passion for Max Townshend’s remarkable creation to servicing, repairing, and enhancing them to meet modern expectations. He has done this with the full blessing of Max Townshend, who urged him to keep those old Rocks spinning in a telephone call only a few weeks before he passed away. There’s no denying that the Rock has enjoyed something of a renaissance, thanks to Matt’s gorgeous restored Rock turntables and Excalibur arms.

Townshend Chris Harris’s beautiful Rock II with Excalibur tonearm, fully rebuilt by the RockDoc (picture courtesy of Chris Harris)

Following Max Townshend’s untimely passing in 2021, his legacy is now in the secure hands of his widow, Sue Townshend, their daughter, Harriet, and her husband, Toni. The factory where so many Rocks were built is still where it always was in West London. Without their help and that of Matt McNulty, this article would never have been possible. All of them provided a vast amount of information, including articles, photographs, interviews, archive materials, and user manuals.

Harriet Townshend, Max Townshend’s daughter, addresses fans at the UK Hi-Fi Show Live in October 2022 (picture courtesy of the RockDoc)

In October 2022, less than a year after Max’s passing, Townshend Audio in cooperation with the RockDoc staged a tribute to his life and work at the UK Hi-Fi Show Live in Ascot. It was to be a once-in-a-lifetime event where the largest collection of Rock turntables ever assembled was displayed, from the Cranfield prototype through all the different production versions to the Rock 7. Harriet spoke movingly of the father she knew and loved, while industry luminaries paid their respects to his sublime engineering genius. Matt McNulty, the RockDoc, who has done so much to support the Rock community since the cessation of production, gave a presentation on what the Rock means to him.

Townshend From left to right, the complete lineup: Rock prototype, Rock I, Rock II, Rock III, Rock V, Rock 7 (picture courtesy of The RockDoc)

During the writing of this feature, I spoke to a huge variety of people across the audio industry—designers, manufacturers, engineers, sales and marketing staff, customers, and press—and not one person had a negative word to say about Max, not even his competitors. Every single one commented on his larger-than-life, bon-vivant personality; his unique and brilliant approaches to solving engineering problems; and his lovable demeanor. He was quite simply a legend, a great bear of a man who was thoughtful and kind for the whole of his life. You can see it in the way he rushed to Jack Dinsdale’s aid all those years ago at the International Festival of Sound in Harrogate in 1979.

Max Townshend: engineer, raconteur, bon-vivant, and genius (picture courtesy of Townshend Audio)

I was inspired to write this article because the Townshend Rock was a turntable that I admired throughout my formative years, despite eventually owning a rival GyroDec. Of course, turntables like the Rock and the GyroDec were the stuff of dreams back when I started my audio journey, but I love them both because they were designed by engineers, not marketers. Their form is entirely determined by function, and that function is to extract maximum information from a record groove with minimal artifice.

Townshend factory demonstrator Rock II making sweet music in the author’s home

Despite writing about audio on and off for over 25 years for a variety of publications, including Hi-Fi News, Hi-Fi Choice, Naim Connection, and SoundStage!, I never had the pleasure of meeting Max properly. I came close, though, not long before he passed away. The scene was the bar at the Bristol Hi-Fi Show, and I was stood in a small group listening to the conversation between Max and a few other industry figures. While there, I became aware of what I thought was somebody reaching into my jacket. I turned to see what was happening, only to catch Max removing his hand from my pocket. As our eyes met his face cracked into a beaming smile, and it was only later I realized that he had deposited his business card in there—ever the salesman! I always regretted that I never spoke to him properly, I think because I was slightly daunted by his towering reputation. I hope that somewhere in heaven he is smiling down, secure in the knowledge that his business card set the wheels in motion for this story to finally be told.

Townshend The Rock story—for the author it all started with a business card

An intriguing finale to the Rock story is that, prior to his passing, Max designed not one but three further Rock turntables. After many years during which he concentrated his efforts on his Seismic support products, cables, and the remarkable Allegri Reference preamplifier, he returned to the Rock—where it all began. These designs exist as full technical drawings, ready to be prototyped, and are the last flowering of their maker’s art. One can only hope that someday they reach production and are released into the world to find a new audience of delighted music lovers.

Max Townshend’s personal system at home, including prototype Townshend Rock, Townshend Allegri Reference preamplifier, Townshend custom monoblock power amplifiers including valve treble stage and class-D stage for bass drive, and Townshend Glastonbury Tor loudspeakers on Townshend Seismic Podiums (picture courtesy of Townshend Audio)