| Track: | Rating: | ||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1. No Lullaby | | | | | |
| 2. Sweet Dream | | | | | |
| 3. Skating Away On The Thin Ice Of A New Day | | | | | |
| 4. Jack In The Green | | | | | |
| 5. One Brown Mouse | | | | | |
| 6. A New Day Yesterday | | | | | |
| 7. Songs From The Wood | | | | | |
| 8. Thick As A Brick | | | | | |
| 9.Hunting Girl | | | | | |
| 10.Too Old To Rock'n'Roll: Too Young To Die | | | | | |
| 11.Conundrum | | | | | |
| 12.Minstrel In The Gallery | | | | | |
| 13.Cross-Eyed Mary | | | | | |
| 14.Quatrain | | | | | |
| 15.Aqualung | | | | | |
| 16.Locomotive Breath | | | | | |
| 17.The Dambuster's March | | | | | |
[Note: This is the track listing for the LP version. I understand that the CD version omits at least one track.]
All songs by Ian Anderson except "Conundrum" and "Quatrain", by Martin Barre, "The Dambuster's March", by Eric Coates/Ian Anderson, and "Aqualung", Ian Anderson/Jenny Anderson.
[Note: For some strange reason, the album credits "Aqualung" to Ian alone, despite the well-known dual credit on _Aqualung_. Mind you, Ian is also credited for "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" here, technically.]
One of the mysteries of English progressive rock history is that Jethro Tull waited as long as they did to release a live album. While Yes, Genesis and ELP had all made their mark in 1973-74, King Crimson had released two by 1975, and even Gentle Giant were on the map by 1976, Tull waited until 1978 before issuing Live: Bursting Out, a two-record set taken from a recent Italian show. This delay probably cost the band no small amount of revenues (the progressive market was declining by 1978, after all). It may have hindered the long-term reputation of the album, too -- despite being a perfectly good snapshot of Tull's live powers and prowess, the album falls somewhat short of being a "classic" in most prog-fan circles.
Why did they wait so long? It surely can't be because of a poor reputation for live shows -- by all accounts, these had been quite memorable audio/visual spectacles for several years. And I rather doubt that it was due to poor performances. Perhaps the presence of a "greatest hits" album in 1975 had saturated the market to the point that a live album would have been superfluous ... I can't think of better reason, at least.
In any event, this particular 1978 show shows the group in top form, and playing a good variety of songs from throughout their career. Some might complain about "A Passion Play" being left out, or quibble that "Sweet Dream" and "A New Day Yesterday" weren't the best early Tull songs they could have chosen. All in all, though, this is a pretty even setlist -- it's doubtful that too many hardcore fans would have had much reason to complain.
As far as the lineup goes ... well, this album may very well be John Glascock's finest hour. The ill-fated Tull bassist is fairly high in the mix this time around, adding a fair bit to songs which had previously been defined by Mr. Hammond-Hammond. Bass-playing Tull fans should probably snag this album for this reason alone.
On the other hand, a case could reasonably be made that David Palmer isn't needed for most of the album. His presence doesn't actually hurt, but there simply isn't a strong need for two keyboardists on most of the material (despite some exceptions, most obviously "Hunting Girl"). Tull were never a keyboard-dominated band to begin with, and one gets the feeling that JE didn't really need any help in this department ... Palmer makes the sound a bit "fuller", to be sure, but seems more of a luxury than a necessity.
There's nothing to fault in the performances of the other band members, and Ian plays the master-showman role to a hilt (completely ignoring any possible language barriers in exposing his dry wit to the audience). With a band like Tull, "the show" was generally as important as "the music" (or, in the case of the flute solo, more important) ... and Ian clearly wasn't letting anyone down on the night in question [which reminds me ... kudos to whoever it was that decided to put a complete show on the record].
As to the show itself ...
After a bilingual introduction, the band takes the stage to "No Lullaby", one of the most strongly prog-rock (with emphasis on both "prog" and "rock") tracks of their late-'70s career. The playing is tight all around (Barlow deserves special credit), and the heavy-guitar/flute duets provide a perfectly ambiguous preface to the entire show. One can only marvel at the purity of Ian's voice; from all the recent reports of near- total deterioration, it's amazing that he used to be this good (capable of articulation and melody at the same time). On the instrumental front, Barre's tone in mid-song is a far cry from the heavy-rock intro (which I'd consider a good thing). I probably like this version better than the on Heavy Horses -- I'm only a bit curious as to why they decided to cut the track short.
And, from there, it's back to the beginning -- "Sweet Dream" is a fairly good psych-rock track from their early career, and gets a decent run-through here. The arrangement is too different from that on Living In The Past, save (obviously) for the keyboard presence, lending itself to the brief keys/flute duet at the end. Not the best Tull song of all time, but a decent flashback.
Ian then makes his first interaction with the group, apologizing for his hat. He then introduces "Skating Away On The Thin Ice" as being held under special conditions, with the other Tull members switching instruments: MB to marimba, JG to lead guitar, JE to accordion, BB to glockenspiel, and DP to the loo areas offstage (if legend be believed). The performance, aside from some superfluous echo effects, is fine -- JG's guitar tone is ... odd, but I rather like it. Anderson's vocal accent on the chorus seem a bit curious as well, though it's nothing to complain about. This chestnut from Warchild gets a decent performance.
Momentarily losing his grasp on the audience, Ian then makes the mistake of noting the Americans in the crowd (not the best thing to say in Europe, of course -- some scattered jeering results). With Palmer then back in the fold, Ian subsequently introduces "Jack(s) In The Green", his tribute to the elfin creatures who preside over England's climactic cycles. On the original Songs From The Wood version, Ian played all the instruments himself; this version, obviously, has a rather more "full" sound to it; and, besides which, Ian's voice sounds less rushed here (though the echo, again, could have been lost). Another good song meet another good performance.
Ian then introduces "One Brown Mouse" as a tribute, of sorts, to Robert Burns. This acoustic number is most notable for its great vocal melody, though it must be admitted that Ian's voice wavers on a few occasions. The synths are fairly prominent here as well, and Barlow provides some good prog drumming in the background (why, I casually ponder, doesn't he have a stronger reputation in the field). And so ends the first LP side.
Ian introduces "A New Day Yesterday" with his usual self-effacing dryness (later demonstrated on "Living In The Past" in the late '80s), citing it as "in a blues tempo, the only one we know". This song of an ending romance works well as a psychedelic/blues-rock number, and is performed fairly faithfully by the group; the mid-song guitar solo features some good harmonizing from Glascock too. But, suddenly ...
... in mid-song, Ian goes into his "Flute Solo Improvisation", a theatrical segment not entirely unrelated to Rick Wakeman's solo spotlight on Yessongs. There's some interesting music going on here, though I can't say I have a strong desire to listen to Ian snorting into the flute ever again in my life. Brief snippets on "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" (with the full band) and "Bouree" pop up as well. I suppose that the silliness was part and parcel of the experience, but it doesn't hold up as well as the rest of the album. Still, the good parts of this bit are, as it were, good enough.
A very abbreviated "Songs From The Wood" then turns up, clocking in at under three minutes. I can't say I have any clue as to why it was shortened; if there was a problem with the arrangement, surely some revision could have been made easy enough. Moreover, this particular track is not entirely "live" -- the opening section is taped in, with Ian's backup vocals (and a flute part, mimed on some occasions by Barlow) magically appearing on stage. These problems aside, it's a good performance -- this was always one of Tull's better late-'70s tracks, and everyone pulls together here (note the harpsichord part). A complete version of the track might even merit a five-star rating (the miming I don't really care about, but abridging a year-old anthem seems a bit pointless). Oh well ...
We are then treating to the first-and-only "epic" track on the album, in the form of a 12-minute version of "Thick As a Brick" (which Ian dedicates to the "over-25s" in the audience). This arrangement begins (obviously) with the eponymous opening section (with synthesizers taking over for the famous flute part; one presumes that Ian's breathing would have been severely compromised if he had attempted singing and playing at the same time). Glascock's bass playing adds a fair amount to the "See, there a son is born" section, and Ian's voice once again reaches a state of high purity. The flute finally makes its appearance in the brief instrumental bit prior to "The Poet And The Painter". From there, the spotlight shifts several times -- Barre takes an impressive solo, Evan and Palmer get in some decent dueting in the background, and Evan (I presume) gets in a hot solo in a reprise of the "son is born" theme. Ian then ends the song with a reprise of the opening, leaving the final "brick" to be filled in by the audience. The end is a bit on the cheese-heavy side, but this is a fairly minor flaw on an obvious album highlight.
The second half of the album begins with a rendition of "Hunting Girl", one of the best songs of Tull's entire catalogue. Ian's introduction (involving John Glascock's fetishes) is quite unusual for actually having a word as harmless as "bastard" bleeped out. Why anyone would think this necessary a year after Never Mind The Bullocks is beyond me ... then again, perhaps the silliness of the censor represents some odd form of British humour. Anyway, the performance is top-notch, with themes shifting from player to player in a highly professional manner. Barre's guitar tone is usually nasty at times (note: this is a good thing), and Ian's voice is near-perfect. Be warned, though, that listening to this song carefully might reduce nostalgic listeners to tears if they should think of Glascock's death so shortly thereafter (I'm serious). Palmer, playing the portative organ, actually has a vital role here -- provided the lead melodic motif which turns up from time to time. Whatever one may think of the S&M/bondage subject matter (discreetly presented, in any case), this performance is another highlight -- probably the best of the "five minute" songs.
The censor returns on Ian's introduction to "Too Old To Rock'n'Roll: Too Young To Die", presumably blocking out Ian's absurdly cheery reference to the song as being about "some other c*nt", rather than himself. The anthemic qualities of this song seem a bit overdone, at times -- Ian's theatrical vision may have taken him too far this time, and the song itself has always been at least one notch below the group's best work. Still, the rockabilly pastiche at track's end is pretty cool ... and where on earth is that saxophone sound emanating from? An entire album of this would be a bit much to take, but it's fine in small doses, I suppose.
Martin Barre's "Conundrum" then emerges, giving Ian the chance to take a time-out. For a guitarist as perpetually low-key as Barre, the opening bits of this piece must have been an incredible on-stage liberation -- his solo is actually very good (even if it does sound like it was written with a missing vocal line from Ian in mind). The "duet" of Glascock and Barre is fairly good as well, as is the slight return of "Hunting Girl" from Palmer. Unfortunately ... well, as I noted in my review of Living In The Past, drum solos don't always translate well beyond the "moment" for which they were intended. While Barlow's solo is probably better than Bunker's on "Dharma For One", it still drags a bit (especially before the percussives kick in). The reprise of the main theme brings this little jaunt to an end, as Ian makes his triumphant return.
And this, in turn, leads us to "Minstrel In The Gallery", which kicks-in with the acoustic section after a very brief organ lead-in. I must confess that this track has never impressed me quite as much as, say, "Aqualung" or other Tull-anthems -- the quiet intro is fine, as is the instrumental rock development thereafter (fusion-y scales and all), but the power-rock section which follows (reprising the opening lyrics) has often struck me as a bit too much bluster. Still, it's a good song -- even a great song -- if still falling short of "classic" status. And Glascock's work on the fretless bass is worth the price of admission.
The final quarter of the album is devoted to the group's most familiar material (although any complaints about an over-reliance on "hits" would have to be counterbalanced by the absence of "Living In The Past" and "Bungle In The Jungle" ... one side dedicated to the Best-Loved Classics seems fair enough, all things considered). A brief "pop-goes- the-weasel" introduction leads into "Cross-Eyed Mary", with the jazzy opening thankfully intact. This is essentially the same as the studio version, only "fuller" -- the guitar/flute duet is again worth pointing out. The usual bogus encore then occurs.
The band then embarks on the brief "Quatrain" which, all credits to Martin Barre aside, is essentially a thinly-disguised rip-off of Aaron Copeland's "Hoe-Down" (from "Rodeo"). As I'm not here to judge the ethics of the situation, however, I'd give the track a high rating fairly easily -- the playing is solid, and the melody can't really be faulted. And, in any event, it provides the means for a surprise lead-in to "Aqualung". Anyone familiar with Tull should know what to expect herein -- though Glascock's bass work on the "sun-streaking cold" bit is good enough to merit special attention again. Barre has probably played better versions of the guitar solo than this, but there's not much to complain about. I suppose this track hadn't been completely played to death in 1978, after all.
And, getting both of the really "heavy horses" out of the way at same time, the group then returns for a second-encore of "Locomotive Breath". The jazzy piano intro seems stretched out a little bit for full dramatic effect, and a train whistle signals the ... er ... "all change" band section that follows, so to speak. Aside from being another solid performance, this version has the additional advantage of lacking the irritating hum in the third verse. ;) Glascock actually makes the bass line "walk" a bit, though I suppose that anyone else would probably have done the same as a point of basic pride. The band then segues into "The Dambuster's March", which makes for as good of a finale piece as anything else, I suppose. Anderson appears on-stage again for a final reprise of "Aqualung", with the surprise ending which concludes the show.
Not essential for the casual fans, this is a strong addition to any serious Tull-fan's collection. Recommended.
(review originally posted to alt.music.yes on 1 Aug 1998)