Jethro Tull

The reason, of course, that Jethro Tull is filed under "J" is because it's the band's name, not a person (see Complete Set for explanation). In many ways, the band wasn't even a single band, moving as it did from blues (as heard in "A Song for Jeffrey" and "Locomotive Breath") to its later progressive hard rock/psych-folk split personality. The horrendous street wretch gracing Aqualung's cover captures the title track's brittle, bitter edge, while "Thick as a Brick (Edit No. 1)" is all frolicking lambs and daisies in the pastures of Anderson's fertile imagination and intricate arrangements. In Next Steps, we catch Tull at their commercial peak.

With Thick as a Brick, Tull scored its first #1 album, despite its having only two tracks, each an album side's length! Broken up for radio, "Thick as a Brick (Edit No. 4)" shows the band's rockin' side, as opposed to the folky baroque "Edit No. 1" from our Basics. Jethro Tull's next release, A Passion Play, was a masterwork concept album of plugged-in folk-classical, as if "Greensleeves" orchestral interpreter Ralph Vaughan Williams had gone electric. But the heaviest (and most sadly overlooked) track here is "Rainbow Blues," originally a bonus track from M.U. — The Best of Jethro Tull, sounding like a missing chapter from Aqualung's hymnal. In Deep Cuts, we hear Tull in their autumn years.

By 1978's Heavy Horses, the musical landscape had shifted under Tull, and they began a commercial slide, failing to break the Top 15 for the first time in nine straight studio albums. While they had always sported a sort of antique-y vibe, the folky "Weathercock" sounded even more out of place as the new wave rolled through radio. By 1991's Catfish Rising, Tull had rediscovered their earlier, bluesier edge with "Rocks on the Road." And on "In a Black Box," from Ian Anderson's 1995 solo album, Divinities: Twelve Dances With God, Anderson gets back in touch with the more serious side of his classical roots (remember, Tull did cover Bach's "Bouree"). Tull continues to sprout up occasionally, but they were one of the fortunate few bands whose creative and commercial peaks coincided, cementing their reputation.

Yes, indeed, ladies and gentlemen, there was a man named Jethro Tull, but he was not the scraggle-haired, flute-playing elf who led the band of that name. The real Jethro Tull invented the seed drill in 1701; the band leader is a fellow named Ian Anderson, a sprightly purveyor of progressive rock at its most (figuratively and literally) baroque moments. The one-time blues band embraced jazz, pop, hard rock, folk, and classical music, spinning their threads into a wild crazy-quilt of sound, hopping and skipping from the East End to Middle Earth with a total lack of inhibition, guided only by Anderson's constantly evolving vision. Through four decades of albums and tours, Jethro Tull have been lauded, loathed, loved, and lampooned, but stand unquestionably as one of progressive rock's defining bands.