Jethro Tull - Aqualung (1971)

Dan:

Jethro Tull's follow up to the excellent Benefit album was astonishing for its social commentary and its collection of new compositions by Ian Anderson. It became the band's best-selling album while garnering rave reviews. I imagine that I bought it because of its popularity (not my usual criterion) but I liked its departure from the norm. It takes on serious subject matter, rocks like crazy but also shows a delicate side to Tull. I prefer Benefit and Stand Up for their tunes, but I appreciate Aqualung for its boldness. Because it's so widely known and loved, most people would not need much guidance, so I'll just explain why I like it. 

First, the two songs that open the album are the title piece and "Cross-Eyed Mary." Both portray anti-heroic characters: a homeless man who ogles school children, and a young prostitute. I take the point to be that these people exist and should be reckoned with instead of being loathed or ignored. I occasionally engage with people like Aqualung on my morning walks and find them utterly harmless and often humorous. They give me names (hey Slim) and offer fist bumps or, in one case, a puff of whatever he was smoking (I politely declined). I understand that the Aqualung character was inspired by Ian Anderson's wife who photographed such people on the banks of the Thames.

Second, the album's religious theme laments the plight of God as something that you "wind up on Sundays." For Anderson and many other people, religion is a personal matter and God, if he's anywhere, is "inside you and me." Anderson's songs about God are not irreverent, but they are critical of how God is forced upon people by parents, teachers, and legislators. 

While critics sometimes weave these two themes together to form a (gasp) "concept album," I see the themes as mostly independent. My appreciation of individual songs is based on the music, not their connection to the narrative. For example, I like "Aqualung's" structure, with its almost spoken bridge that contrasts with the snarling opening and closing bars. The closing "Wind Up," is a plaintive appeal for understanding that can both stand alone and serve to summarize a religious theme. 

Then there is "Locomotive Breath." Not to be taken literally, the runaway train signifies the concept of juggernaut, which for me refers to social processes that are impelled forwardly and cannot be reversed, despite their dire consequences. I think of industrial development, religious fervor, political extremism, the proliferation of firearms in the U.S., and overpopulation (Anderson's particular inspiration for the song), all of which are terribly hard to slow down (just like a speeding train). 

Such is the ingenious mind of Ian Anderson and Jethro Tull. I'm glad that they, and prog bands in general, focus on more interesting topics than the boy-meets-girl stories that popular music has always relied upon. As one critic said, listeners should focus more on Anderson's songs than his on-stage appearance and antics (referring to his dress and one-footed flute playing). I agree. Listen to this album with the lyric sheet in front of you.

Steve:

Aqualung is the only Jethro Tull album I recall hearing around the house when I was a small child; I was not at all familiar with Stand Up or Benefit until I was well into my high school years. As such, each of the songs from Aqualung triggers nostalgic feelings for me. While "Aqualung" and "Locomotive Breath" are arguably the two most over-exposed songs in their catalog, I have to admit that I've never stopped getting excited when they come on - they're famous for a good reason.  

Dan expressed some skepticism about this album's reputation as a "concept album", and from what I've read, the band felt quite the same way. In fact, legend has it that their next album, Thick as a Brick, was purposely designed as an over-the-top parody of a concept album, as if to say "You want a concept album, eh? Well then here you go... it's all one song, see?" Although Ian Anderson has been accused of being pompous and pretentious in later years, I get the impression that he was not taking himself quite so seriously at this early point in his career.

Although not technically part of the album, some additional material recorded around the same time deserves mention here. Much of it was released on the 1972 compilation album Living in the Past and originates from a 7" 5-song EP that focuses on Anderson's acoustic guitar songs. "Life is a Long Song", "Nursie", "Dr. Bogenbroom", "From Later", and especially "Up the 'Pool" are all mature and majestic songs, and the last might be my favorite Jethro Tull song of all. These and other songs are included on a bonus disc with Steven Wilson's remixed upgrade of Aqualung.

Jethro Tull - Benefit (1970)

Dan:

I took a long time getting around to Benefit, Jethro Tull's third album, which was sandwiched between Stand Up and Aqualung. In his unassuming way, Steve made it available thinking I might enjoy it if I only listened to it. I was familiar with "Inside," which also appeared on the compilation album Living in the Past that I used to own in the early 1970s. 

After hearing Benefit a few times, I can safely say that it's my favorite Tull album for several reasons. First, It's an intelligent set of songs. My favorite is "Nothing to Say," which addresses an interesting issue in game theory: should I share my knowledge with someone else? Ian Anderson says no:

Everyday there's someone asking "What is there to do?"

Should I love or should I fight, is it all the same to you?

No I say I have the answer proven to be true,

But if I were to share it with you,

You would stand to gain and I to lose.

Oh I couldn't bear it so I've got nothing to say.

Nothing to say.

The reason for this selfish posture appears to be resentment over the misfortune that the questioner has brought upon us. Later, it becomes more apparent that the questioner is a hateful hypocrite:

Climb a tower of freedom, paint your own deceiving sign.

It's not my power to criticize or to ask you to be blind

To your own pressing problem and the hate you must unwind.

So ask of me no answer, there is none that I could give you wouldn't find.

I went your way ten years ago and I've got nothing to say.

Nothing to say.

Now that's a worthwhile lyric! Other gems with equally profound lyrics are "With You There to Help Me," "To Cry You a Song," and "A Time for Everything?"

My second reason is songcraft, with or without lyrics. Benefit rocks hard where necessary but never dissolves into pointless jamming. Everything fits together, whether it's rhythm, flutes and guitars, or thumping bass. This might very well be Jethro Tull's secret advantage over dozens of other bands that are loaded with great players, but which have trouble establishing a sound of their own. 

Finally, I like Benefit's clever album cover art. It shows cutout figures of the band members on stage in front of a window with the same band members looking on from behind. On the album's back cover, you see the same cardboard cutouts from behind, with their names written on their backs. Cute!

As a kid, I'd spend a lot of time studying the sleeves of the 12" LPs that I owned. Not just the notes, but the images as well. I hardly ever do that for CDs because they're so small. However, for the digital albums stored on my laptop computer, I took the pains to find the highest resolution artwork for the 2,400+ albums in that part of my collection. I occasionally scroll through the larger images just for entertainment. 

Steve:

Insights like Dan's above remind me that I miss out on a lot of potential music appreciation by not paying attention to lyrics. "Nothing to Say" is a heck of a piece of writing. Lyric-wise, the Jethro Tull piece to which I've given the most effort is "A Passion Play", a strange tale of the afterlife I'm told; but time and again I can't make heads or tails of it. So rather than dwell on this sad affliction of mine, I'll stick to talking about what I know.

Benefit sits right in the sweet spot of Jethro Tull's finest period, in my opinion (Stand Up through A Passion Play). It was one of the first Jethro Tull albums I bought; I first got interested in exploring the band's catalog after borrowing a copy of M.U. The Best of Jethro Tull from a friend. My favorite song from that compilation was "Teacher", which was included on the US version of Benefit (though not on the UK version, as I later learned; most subsequent reissues have thus omitted "Teacher" as a part of the album proper). I still love "Teacher" and am only mildly annoyed that the version included as a bonus track on the Benefit CD reissue is a different version that I don't like as much. Oh well, I still have M.U.

Other favorites on this album are "With You There to Help Me"; "For Michael Collins, Jeffrey and Me"; and "A Time for Everything" - three very different sounding songs. "With You There to Help Me" could probably have been sequenced a little more effectively - as a vast 6-minute beast of a number, it doesn't feel like it belongs as "side 1 track 1"; it could have worked better as a side closer. It's spacious and psychedelic, using a very standard folk rock chord progression but going all out in the arrangement, with echoed flutes, quiet/loud dynamics, and Martin Barre's wailing guitar leads. "Michael Collins" has the effect of making me wistful and nostalgic, even though I have no idea what the song is about. Maybe it's time I read those lyrics again. 

Jethro Tull - Stand Up (1969)

Steve:

Jethro Tull became a big factor in my life in college, with the release of the 20 Years of Jethro Tull box set. Prior to that, I only knew the Aqualung album and the M.U. greatest hits album. But once I began scarfing up their back catalogue, Stand Up clearly "Stood Out" as one of their finest albums. It was only their second album, but already they had gone from an interesting blues band with flute (This Was, 1968) to being a serious contender for the future of heavy music, along with Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath.  

New guitarist Martin Barre (original guitarist Mick Abrahams had just left to form Blodwyn Pig) was the secret ingredient to bring band leader Ian Anderson's creations to life. But as heavy as this album was, its true heaviness derived from its dynamic contrasts, which put the thunderous sections in greater relief. "Back to the Family" sounds like a folky ballad when it begins, but each verse then kicks into a higher gear, and suddenly we're in Led Zeppelin air-guitar territory (think "Ramble On"). Some songs are entirely acoustic, such as "Look into the Sun", "Reasons for Waiting", and the Eastern-flavored "Fat Man". These numbers add balance to the program, making for a full-bodied, satisfying listening experience.  

While the album wasn't endowed with an obvious hit single, several classic Tull tracks are here, songs that remained in the band's set list for years to come. "A New Day Yesterday" begins the album with a template that the band would turn into a trademark - the heavy riff-based song. The odd-metered blues riff is irresistible and sets the precedent for stuff like "Aqualung", "Sweet Dream", "To Cry You a Song", and "Locomotive Breath" later on. For added variety, the jazz inclinations hinted at on the first album are continued here with "Bourée", a flute-driven variation on a Bach melody - also one of their most beloved set pieces on stage.

If you're just starting to get into Jethro Tull, this should be one of your first albums. The band had not latched onto concept albums, and the full potential of the early band, poised to define the future direction of heavy rock, was already at an early peak.

Dan:

The first song I heard from Jethro Tull was "Fat Man," which was on a 2-LP Warner sampler album called Record Show, which included 30 tracks by Warner artists. (The only other song I remember was Neil Young's "Cinnamon Girl.") I thought it was stupid to write a song about not wanting to be fat. Since there were so many bands sprouting up in the late 60s, I had to be selective, so I ignored Jethro Tull until Aqualung came out. I played Aqualung a lot, which is how Steve must have heard it first.

Many years later Steve returned the favor and pushed quite a few Tull albums my way. That resulted in my hearing Benefit, which I think is a wonderful album, and Stand Up, which had been in and out of my collection over the years. Getting it again gave me a chance to reevaluate Stand Up, which seemed much better than I had remembered. By contrast, I never warmed up to the band's 1970s offerings: Thick as a Brick, A Passion Play, and Minstrel in the Gallery. I blame myself, not the band, for my intolerance.

Of the tracks on Stand Up, I like Ian Anderson's "We Used to Know" the best. All are great, but something about my favorite knocks me out every time I play it. Perhaps as an aging adult, I respond to songs with lyrics like "Nights of winter turn me cold / fears of dying, getting old / we ran the race / the race was won by running slowly." The song is uplifting rather than morbid because it suggests the value of past experience and the importance of remembering what we have known and accomplished. That's wisdom worthy of an ancient philosopher, rendered by a 22-year-old Scottish flautist.