CityLife

Jethro Tull

Jethro Tull

Jethro Tull
Apollo
March 23, 2010

Jethro Tull conjures up two incompatible images. First, there’s the Jethro Tull of Aqualung fame (their 1971 masterpiece), a tight experimental blues band that painted a fascinating picture of a homeless man.

Secondly, there’s the ludicrous image of Ian Anderson dressed up like a Shakespearean jester, prancing around with an oversize codpiece. It is unfortunately the latter image that manifests itself tonight.

Of course Anderson has long since hung up his codpiece, but the impish jester still remains. He spends most of the show shuffling backwards round the stage with one eye darting frenetically about the audience, or balancing impressively on one leg flicking the other leg out a la Nigel Tufnel of Spinal Tap fame (whose fictional character was doubtlessly based on Anderson in the first place).

The years have been cruel on his voice leaving him with only a few notes, a state which he self-deprecatingly calls 'bronchial disarray', but he is still an incredibly animated character who, intentionally or not, makes me laugh uncontrollably throughout.

The rest of the band is made up of a six-string bassist, a piano accordion / Indian percussionist, an electric guitarist, a mandola player, and a drummer.

Who would have thought that such a combination would ever work? And it doesn't.

Long standing guitarist Martin Barre is particularly terrible, sounding for the most part like a reject heavy metal player from the 1980s. They are all proficient, technically gifted individuals who together completely fail to make music worth paying attention to.

This is keenly demonstrated when Anderson leaves the stage, and the others usher in tonight’s low point, an instrumental called Bach – a track as pointless as it is inappropriately named.

On the other hand, when Jethro Tull plays tracks from their two seminal albums, Aqualung and Stand Up, the explanation for their obvious success makes itself known. A New Day Yesterday is a thrilling bluesy number, and Bourrée is a far more fittingly titled take on a Johann Sebastian Bach traditional dance piece.

These are scattered moments of pure quality in an otherwise preposterous performance which I really enjoyed, just not for the right reasons.