Jethro Tull

Ian's Liner Notes

Having been, for some 39 years, the “unplugged” guy in what is generally perceived as a Classic Rock band, it seems only natural to finally focus on some of that body of work representing the acoustic side of Jethro Tull.

Many of the songs and instrumentals we have recorded over the years feature acoustic instruments alongside their electric brethren. The song Aqualung, for example, includes extended acoustic sections delicately poised in the midst of rock riff mayhem, while on the Thick As A Brick album, there are several interlaced passages of acoustic guitar-led meanderings.

Mandolins, bouzoukis, balalaika, mouth organ, acoustic piano, harpsichord, accordion, celeste, glockenspiel, marimba, bongos, tabla, assorted kit drums and percussion, the dreaded saxophones, solo violin, acoustic bass and the perhaps more obvious flutes and whistles have all made their mark on the Tull and Ian Anderson back catalogue. And recently, as well as historically, many instruments of the symphony orchestra have joined the happy throng to add their broader, grander colours to my songs.

Oh, what fun! And what a lot of tuning up. No simple “re-tune” button to press or happily stable fixed-pitch, sample-based, keyboard-initiated arsenal of musical weaponry here. Just the painstaking micro-adjustments of wire on wood, lip-twisting embouchures and due attention paid to temperature, humidity, cleaning rags, spit and polish.

But what you get from the end result: living, breathing and REAL music played by more-or-less living, breathing real people. No two performances ever the same. No tiring of sonic repetition. No such thing as a perfect take. Just varying degrees of organic, gutsy-feely, almost-nailed-it approximation.

In an age of computer-driven, sampled mathematical timing and execution, the subtle slipping and sliding of humanly-executed music from fretboard and keyboard are still what excites me the most in music. The flute, like the violin, is never going to be perfectly in tune. But the induced expression, vibrato, tone colours and dynamics are what make it all come alive.

Here, on this compilation of Jethro Tull and Ian Anderson music, you will find a variety of styles, tempos and moods, presented in a chronological order. OK, train spotters – Jack Frost was recorded in 1982, but not released until 1988.

I have tried to pick out some of the obvious and more audience-friendly songs as well as putting in some of my personal and more obscure favourites. I started off with a pretty large list and then whittled, chiselled and hacked away with regret.

I often think that what makes Jethro Tull different to most other bands over the years is the frequent use of such an array of acoustic instrumentation. Yes, my flute has been the obvious symbol and trademark of the band identity, but it goes so much further than that. The dynamics and juxtaposition of electric with acoustic has been the inspiration for these five decades of humble fumbles. The hushed playing of an old Martin guitar or whispered flute in many a hotel and motel room (lest I annoy my fellow guest and weary traveller) seemed then and now so simple and natural. No amps to plug in, no cables to uncoil, no dials and controls to set to navigate to the heart of the sun. Musical sex without the condom. Nothing to self-consciously prepare or to disturb the moment.

Now, in cybermusic-land, I can cut, copy and paste with the best and worst of them when I have to but there really, really isn’t anything quite as satisfying picking up the acoustic guitar or flute and just playing the damn thing. Tape running. Record light on. Pale reflected face in the studio control room window. That’s this album, top to tail, through and through.

And it goes without saying that the excellent assortment of band members and other musicians who you will find here probably felt the same way too.

Ian Anderson
January 2007