A concert review written for the Folk & Acoustic Music Exchange by Mark S. Tucker (progdawg@hotmail.com).
In my 70s youth, I was a concert-going fanatic; over the last 15 years, I've kinda given it up. Things aren't what they used to be. The whole experience in venues shifted from a celebration over to corporate sell-through. However, Ian Anderson's one of my favorite cats, the Greek Theater is among the coolest concert halls (an amphitheater actually), and I'd been told that the group has been reprising the oldest stuff heavily, so—especially 'cause I got the ticket free (damn thing woulda been $85 otherwise), thanks to an old buddy—I said "What the hey!" and went.
Well, first of all, we were able to trade up, from a location that woulda been 2/3rds of the way back (every seat in the Greek is a good one, though) to the eighth row…no charge! All of a sudden, the stars shone a little more brightly. It was a warm night, the crowd was mostly Baby Boomers with a generous assortment of younger aficionados, and the sound system was, thank God, not deafening but very well balanced. Missed the opening act, the Young Dubliners, which I've been told is a mortal sin for an Irish ex-Catholic atheist, so I guess my immortal soul is forfeit now, but we got there just in time to catch Ian and the boys trooping on-stage.
If you can, catch the newly issued Isle of Wight Tull concert DVD (1970) to lay eyes on the most kinetically expressive musician in all rock. Anderson was a maniacal marionette of mad moves and wild-eyed abandon back then and has remained so all through the years. I've seen a number of videos since, in the intervening span, and the guy is just amazing, always a bounding comet of energy. Well, he's a good deal older now (aren't we all?) and not as spry as once was the case but still an irrepressibly impish Puck contorting and dashing about. More, his flute playing has done nothing but improve. The gent started out startlingly good in the wild old days in Jolly Ol' and only went forward from there, achieving a tone and fluidity usually only shown by classicalists.
Martin Barre is the other remaining long-time member surviving so many personnel shifts. He still wields a fierce and complex guitar but has always been much more physically sedate than the flautist. I caught Tull around the Passion Play period back in the day, and Martin's on-stage presence is still the same. Three adept session players flanked the duo, turning in a damn good performance well-stocked with classics and a scattering of cuts from later years. The band opened with It Was a New Day Yesterday from This Was and instantly won over the crowd, who were stolid fans anyway.
In the background flashed a cavalcade of photos from the 60s and 70s, some a little later, and you could feel the palpable yearning among the crowd for the olden hippie days. Ian has always held court with the crowd and still slips in reminiscences and comedic quips between tunes while delivering song after song in excellent form. Material from *Thick as Brick* appeared in a mini-showcase, as did Passion Play interspersed with*Too Old to Rock and Roll, Songs from the Wood, and Minstrel in the Gallery. Chiefly, though, a tour through the old This Was, Stand Up* and Benefit was the order of the day. Every instance was met with enthusiasm and a glow from times past.
I guess this is what our parents felt when they went to see Como, Sinatra, Goodman, and all their own favorites over the long decades. It's been 40 years now for Anderson & Co., and if this is a snapshot of how things go, I'm only too happy to play my part. No longer decked out in the lace-up knee-high boots (3-inch heels!), pirate breeches, chiffon shirt, and monkeyfur cape I once donned of an evening when Hendrix, the Moodies, CSNY, Iron Butterfly, and Gentle Giant commanded the day, I nonetheless was imbued with the vibe of the times, and it was marvelous to feel that again. If Jethro Tull is be the instrument of such memories, then I say "Play on, brothers, play on!"
Copyright 2008, Peterborough Folk Music Society. This review may be reprinted with prior permission and attribution.