Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Jethro Tull - Aqualung

One of three responses always come from mentioning the name Jethro Tull. The first is, "Who?" The second is "I love Aqualung," which is often followed with, "I don't know any of his other songs." The third, and more rare is, "You mean that British guy that invented the plow?"

Let me start by saying that Jethro Tull is a band, not an artist, much like Billy Talent. Also Aqualung, while being one of the coolest songs I have ever heard, is not the only song that this band has ever released. They are not one hit wonders, and they can still out play pretty much any other Prog band (except Rush) that is still making music.

This brings me to this album's title track. Of all the songs I remember from my time in the car driving around with my dad, Aqualung is the one that brings about the fondest memories. I can remember singing/yelling the opening line, but that only begins to cover it. These lyrics are are just amazing when you understand how to take them. "Sitting on a park bench / eyeing little girls with bad intent. / Snot running down his nose / greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes. / Drying in the cold sun / Watching as the frilly panties run. / Feeling like a dead duck / spitting out pieces of his broken luck. / Sun streaking cold / an old man wandering lonely. / Taking time / the only way he knows. / Leg hurting bad, / as he bends to pick a dog-end/ he goes down to the bog / and warms his feet. / Feeling alone / the army's up the rode / salvation à la mode and / a cup of tea. / Aqualung my friend / don't start away uneasy / you poor old sod, you see, it's only me. / Do you still remember / December's foggy freeze / when the ice that / clings on to your beard is / screaming agony. / And you snatch your rattling last breaths / with deep-sea-diver sounds, / and the flowers bloom like / madness in the spring." That's only the tip of the iceberg. The music on this song is an amazing mix of electric and accoustic guitars, and for a song that runs 6:33, it doesn't even seem close to that long.

Next is Cross-Eyed Mary, which opens with a killer flute riffing on the trills. Yes you read that right. Then it goes into this killer track that is so bad ass that Iron Maiden covered it ten years later for either the Flight Of Icarus, or The Trooper, single's B-Side.

Cheap Day Return is a great little filler running 1:23. It's not anything special, but it flows perfectly into Mother Goose. "As I did walk by Hampstead Fair / I came upon Mother Goose - so I turned her loose / she was screaming. / And a foreign student said to me / was it really true there are elephants and lions too / in Piccadilly Circus? / Walked down by the bathing pond / to try and catch some sun. / Saw at least a hundred schoolgirls sobbing / into hankerchiefs as one. / I don't believe they knew / I was a schoolboy. / And a bearded lady said to me / if you start your raving and your misbehaving / you'll be sorry. / Then the chicken-fancier came to play / with his long red beard (and his sister's weird: / she drives a lorry). / Laughed down by the putting green / I popped `em in their holes. / Four and twenty labourers were labouring / digging up their gold. / I don't believe they knew / that I was Long John Silver. / Saw Johnny Scarecrow make his rounds / in his jet-black mac (which he won't give back) / stole it from a snow man." There are two things that can be taken from these lyrics. The first is that Ian Anderson (vocalist/flute) knows how to write a really good story. The second is that he has no clue how to write a chorus. I don't mean that in a bad way either, but if you look at most Tull liner notes you don't really find too many of those, and I like that. It's more poetic that way.

After that it's on to Wond'ring Aloud. Which is also a bit of a shorter track. This one is basically an accoustic with some string sounding arrangements in the background. It's nice and pretty.

Up To Me finishes up the Aqualung side of the album. "Take you to the cinema / and leave you in a Wimpy Bar / you tell me that we've gone to far / come running up to me. / Make the scene at Cousin Jack's / leave him put the bottles back / mends his glasses that I cracked / well that one's up to me. / Buy a silver cloud to ride / pack the tennis club inside / trouser cuffs hung far too wide / well it was up to me. / Tyres down on your bicicle / your nose feels like an icicle / the yellow fingered smoky girl / is looking up to me. / Well I'm a common working man / with a half of bitter - bread and jam / and if it pleases me I'll put one on you man / when the copper fades away. / The rainy season comes to pass / the day-glo pirate sinks at last / and if I laughed a bit to fast. / Well it was up to me. " While these lyrics are decent it's the music that makes this song. It's a little whimsical, a bit playful, and totally rockin'. It's the type of song that lets you know what's what, and how it's going to be.

The second part of the album is referred to as My God, which is also the lead off track's name. It starts off slow, and kind of creepy. Then around the two minute marker it kicks up a whole lot of attitude and gets right in your face. Also the constant themes referring to God and religion through out this entire album has always lead people into believing that this is a concept album, and I get that. But, it's not. It's just a really smart man writing about things on his mind at the time. In fact Ian Anderson used the band's next album Thick As A Brick to show the world what a real concept album is.

Hymn 43 is total balls to the wall, kick ass rock. Martin Barre's guitar work on this track is the stuff that real ledgends are made of. Also, as an interesting note, this was the only song on the album that was released as a single.

That's followed by another nice little ditty called Slipstream. This is antoher great mix of guitar, vocals, and strings. It even has a little extra playing effect on the strings just to make it interesting.

I will say that Aqualung is my favourite song on this album, but the last two tracks are almost as amazing, if not just as mind blowing.

First up is Locomotive Breath, which if it had been released in 1988, would have deserved to kick Metallica's ass for the first Hard Rock/Heavy Metal Grammy, flute or not. This song is heavy, mean, and reaks of a so much bad assery that Ian Anderson shows that his tights wearing, Shakespeare wannabe look could still kick James Hetfield's ass, while playing a flute solo. It's like Black Sabbath's The Wizard, instead there's a flute instead of a harmonica.

The last track on the album is Wind-Up. This song has always been about the lyrics for me, especially growing up in a Catholic family. "When I was young and they packed me off to school / and taught me how not to play the game, / I didn't mind if they groomed me for success, / or if they said that I was a fool. / So I left there in the morning / with their God tucked underneath my arm / their half-assed smiles and the book of rules. / So I asked this God a question / and by way of firm reply, / He said - I'm not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays. / So to my old headmaster (and to anyone who cares): / before I'm through I'd like to say my prayers / I don't believe you: / you had the whole damn thing all wrong / He's not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays. / Well you can excomunicate me on my way to Sunday school / and have all the bishops harmonize these lines". Then the song get's all kinds of heavy before continuing with "how do you dare tell me that I'm my Father's son / when that was just an accident of Birth. / I'd rather look around me - compose a better song / `cos that's the honest measure of my worth. / In your pomp and all your glory you're a poorer man than me, / as you lick the boots of death born out of fear. / I don't believe you: / you had the whole damn thing all wrong / He's not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays." Then it goes back to the mellower beginning feeling to finish off by repeating various lines in slightly altered presentations.

At the end of this album I'm always left feeling emotionally and spiritually drained, but not in a bad way. This is like a fourty-three minute audio orgasm that leaves you not only asking for more (Andria: "What do you have to flip it over now?" Me: "Naw, that's all of it.") but it also leaves you feeling very content and satisfied. This album should be in any serious musician's collection. Also, it is a must for any Classic Rock fan. If you don't own this album already, you need to go buy it now. End of story.

9/10 - content

7/10 - production

10/10 - personal bias

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