Roots To Branches

Well, a bit of both really. 'Roots to Branches' see's Tull move away from the more out-and-out rock stylings of previous albums,(Catfish Rising/Rock Island/Crest of a Knave), and return slightly more to their folk/rock roots, while throwing in a handful of far eastern promise for good measure - and it works for the most part beautifully. Stand out tracks include the title track, the eastern tinged 'Rare and Precious Chain' is particularly memorable, as is the wonderful 'Valley' which manages to make a song about racial and religious intolerance,(Bosnia,Croatia??), get it's message across without resorting to preaching. The pace changes within this song are particularly effective. Although the album does fade out rather for the last couple of tracks, (particularly the Dire Straits-esque 'Another Harry's Bar'), this really is a bit of a return to form for Tull, with a polite nod toward their earlier works, while still moving forward,(all be it slowly!).Established fans should find plenty to like here, while for new-comers it offers an accessible taster for the enormus Tull back catalogue spanning the last 30 years, and with the recentley released 'Dot-com' album, they show no signs of stopping just yet!

I hadn't planned on writing a review of this title, but when I saw there had yet to be any, I thought I'd add a brief note.

To the point, this remaster doesn't add much to the overall sound of this one. It already sounded pretty good, and the audio improvement - if indeed there is one - is minor. With no bonus tracks, one might wonder why anyone should bother.

But I did. I was on a roll through the Tull remasters, and this one went into the sales basket just because it was there. What more can I say?

It's not as though I even rated this CD. I'd always thought of it as lesser Tull, with greater titles surrounding it in the discography. However, one thing these reissues allowed me to do was to re-evaluate this and other Tull titles.

You know what, I really do rate this one now. I suppose timing is everything, and first time around I must have had my head elsewhere. The flute work is terrific, the Eastern influences and high and prominent, and there are a lot of uptempo stuff here. More importantly though, it's the interweaving of instruments - classic Tull layers - that set this one above other titles. There are even jazz breaks, some fine organ work on something that sounds remotely like an old Hammond, and of course, the guitar work is great.

But yes, it's the multiple layers that really set this CD alive. Take the time to listen to each track - pick out an instrument (any will do), and follow its path through the song - you'll soon see what I mean. The quality of the CD helps you do that well enough.

I'm not sure why I didn't like this one very much a few years back, but I'm making up for lost time now. This gets more spins that other, undeniably more "classic" Tull titles at my home.

Give it a go.

Nobody ever made themselves popular in the world of music criticism by "coming out" as a Jethro Tull fan. But then, if you're reading this page, you're probably not averse to a riff of hard rock guitar, a bit with a flute, some nasally folk-inflected singing and the obligatory mandolin. In fact, you're probably a Tull fan already and what you really want to know is "Is this as good as their classic '70s stuff?".

The surprising answer is "Yes". Yes it is as good as their '70s stuff. It's certainly a whole lot better than the hard rock cul-de-sac they went down in the '80s. Ian Anderson seems creatively reinvigorated, both through a flirtation with World Music motifs and a return to a classic Tull theme: God, or the lack of Him. This musical Big Concept makes the album similar in style to the '70s big-hitters like Aqualung (grumpy at God) or Heavy Horses (incorporating English folk instrumentation and melodies). All of which is definitely Good News for the seasoned Tull afficionado.

The Bad News is that the album's just not consistent enough. While the best material here could pass for a Thick As a Brick outtake or (even better) suggests a brand new Arabesque direction for Anderson's compositions, there's a fair amount of Tull-by-numbers here too. Okay, none of it as banal as the worst stuff on Catfish Rising or Rock Island but the thing about their great '70s albums was that they just didn't _do_ filler back then.

The opening title track swirls in ominously with Anderson's flutes hinting at desert oases and belly dancers. The lyrics sparkle with sharp, mordant reflections on the world's big faiths. "True disciples carrying the message," he observes, "colour it just a little with their personal touch". Frankly, you don't get that many rock songs satirizing the apostolic creed and after dallying with cod-rock nonsense about Kissing Willies on previous albums, this song is a clear statement of intent: Ian Anderson is back and he has something to say.

The religio-cultural theme is picked up again on Valley. This is another one of those Big Long Songs that Tull traditionally lodge in each album - like My God, Heavy Horses or Flying Dutchman back in the day. There's a nice acoustic lead in, lurching into Martin Barre's trademark crunchy guitar for the angry bits. The lyrics trace the discontents of two river-valley tribes competing for resources, but it's all a cute little metaphor for today's sectarian squabbles in the Middle East (and elsewhere).

The spiritual sister to this song is the epic Beside Myself, a song boasting the same byzantine musical structure as Budapest, back in their Grammy-winning days. This song accurately diagnoses the frustration of the bleeding-heart liberal confronted with the endemic poverty and injustice in some Third World megapolis.

All of this represents Tull doing what they do best: ingenious songs with thought-provoking language, linked to rousing choruses and guitar-hero heavy riffage from Barre. Not everything is carried off so successfully, however. Anderson's dirty-old-man persona makes an incongruous and unwelcome return in Dangerous Veils, where he speculates pruriently about what Muslim women are hiding behind their burqas. Not very nice. Other songs like Rare And Precious Chain or This Free Will thunder and bounce most satisfactorily but behind the world music dressing these are conventional tales of erotic encounters in sweaty foreign climes - a topic that seems to fascinate Anderson in his middle age but leaves all but the most voyeuristic of listeners perplexed (at best) or (at worst) slightly nauseated.

A couple of unusual tracks restore the musical balance. Out Of The Noise joins that respectable Tull roster of Animal Themed Songs. In this case, the beast is a street dog in an Asian city, dodging rickshaws and scavenging for dinner, but wary of ending up the succulent ingredient in some tourist's chow mein. As with Dangerous Veils, Anderson's reactionary stereotyping of Johnny Foreigner is grating, but the music is springy, complex and energetic in the style of Tull in their glory days. The same can be said for Wounded Old And Treacherous, a song which lyrically ticks the thematic boxes (religion = bad) but remains cheerfully obscure, allowing the listener to concentrate on the music, which is a delight. This song channels the ghost of early This Was era Tull, with its jazzy opener and percussive breaks, and Martin Barre's Wagnerian guitar solos looming like a stormhead. Marvellous.

A scattering of songs remain that don't carry any Third World or God Bashing baggage. Of these one, a track called At Last Forever, is simply sublime and probably the most beautiful thing Anderson has written in twenty years. The others, some doggerel about Harry's Bar and being Stuck in Autumn Rain, are forgettable pieces of late-Tull lounge-rock.

So, it's a mixed bag with compositions of real charm and inspiration set against other pieces that veer from the anodyne to the outright embarassing. Typical late-Tull then, except that the strong songs carry the day, the production is warm and enveloping and Anderson is singing crisply and wittily to melodies that fit his now-faltering vocal range.

Overall, the best Tull album since The Broadsword and the Beast, with stand-out moments that can take their place among some of the best songs the band has ever done. Definitely one for the fans - but if you're new to Tull (and you made it this far!) then go try their accessible '70s stuff first, Heavy Horses is as good a start as any.