Jethro Tull – j-tull dot com (1999)

Ian Anderson’s unsentimental, not-too-sympathetic world-view usually dampens down the emotional content of his songs. His sympathies don’t necessarily lie with the characters he depicts and their predicaments. Instead, he seems to highlight the consequences of incidents, questioning their meaning to the "human condition." Anderson’s approach is European, like that of Michaelangelo Antonioni or Ingmar Bergman. This can repel the rock and rollers, and it has certainly downgraded Anderson’s work in the eye of populist critics who prefer immediacy, clarity and the common weal. On the other hand, the critics have often missed the fact that many rock and rollers are mesmerized by Tull’s ambition as a highly motivated rock band. Anderson’s musical stunts alone can be fun; and his pessimism endearing. And "rock" essentially is "rock and roll" for those who take their pleasures where they find them.

On j-tull dot com, Anderson may have pulled off a masterpiece. Like David Bowie’s recent album, Thursday’s Child, career gestation has birthed crystallization. As usual, Anderson’s form seems that of a good architect: sturdy construction, a touch of playful design, utility and grace. On a song like "Spiral," the track that leads off j.tull dot com, Anderson sings about being a "waiter…paid in rubles." Not sure what it’s all about, but it’s definitely not about Anderson; and the "having a bad day" subject matter is perfectly banal. But the music is another matter: all shifting tempos, roaring-staccato guitar attacks, and soaring flute melody. At first, the music seems to be irrelevantly running alongside of the narrative structure (the story is bleak, while the music runs from the pastoral-melodic to the horrific), and the narrative seems to be getting in the way of the music. But looked at another way, the emotional content does become apparent. The small victories in facing a useless day, the stoical sense of self-pride in carrying yourself through the fire, the tiny horrors that must be defeated, are all highlighted by Tull’s sense of form. Anderson is the only songwriter who comes to mind, who doesn’t care to sing his songs from within the song itself, following the words and elaborating them musically from within the structure, but instead he breaks the songs up into several different shapes and makes his comments alongside the narrative in almost a "cut-and-paste" editing manner. This allows Anderson and Tull the freedom they need to display a more free-wheeling form in their playing. The delight the musicians takes in executing complex passages is often passed along to the listener, and if this can grow tiresome if divorced from meaning, or if the taste and skills of the players aren’t really that advanced, Anderson’s good sense always keeps us hungry for more.

"Wicked Windows" may be the most ambitious song on j-tull dot com. Anderson, singing from a woman’s point of view, is a stretch in itself. "I review my past through wicked windows." The character is involved in a cold reminiscence, one in which she reviews past mistakes and trespasses without condemnation. Her reasons are "caught up in circumstance – harsh truth for history to mellow." "Better not remember me. Don’t miss my passing." "I laughed like any child – Christmas was my favorite holiday." The mixture of emotions, the hint of power abused, of "bad blood" running in families – this is a nice lyric. And Tull’s music is regal – this could be the tale of an (evil?) Queen, or it could be the tale of an everyman/woman. Both ideas are hinted at in the music – in the grand piano opening, the chiming keyboards of Christmas past, the harsh transitions and passive sense of hugeness. Anderson shadows the rhythm part of the narrative with his voice and sometimes this technique of pasting the lyric onto a rhythm movement is irritating – a simple way not to bother with a melody. But on "Wicked Windows" and, for the most part on all of j-tull dot com, Anderson seems to be lifting new melodic tricks from his flute-playing – learning to swing his voice more against the rhythm playing, creating nuance and musicality.

 All that said, the absolute highlights of j-tull dot com are the most sentimentally inspired, or the most melodically simple. "dot com" sets a beautifully pastoral flute melody against female backgroud singing and a witty ballad about love and distance. "Hot Mango Flash" is a beatnik-like display of poesy and jazzy-interplay, with a beautiful Spanish guitar part snaking in and out of the mix. Martin Barre remains ever-inventive on the riffing, ever-restrained on the lead guitar inspirations, and ever-powerful on the power chords. Andrew Giddings (keyboards), Doane Perry (drums), and Jonathan Noyce (bass) are traveling with Anderson on what may be a new great Jethro Tull phase.

And, as he has done so often, Anderson pulls out a couple of love songs that are among the best tunes on the record and among the best tunes he has ever written. "Bends Like a Willow" is absolutely perfect as a heartfelt pop tune and everything else. "The Dog-Ear Years" could have been on David Bowie’s generation-sensitive Thursday’s Child: "Rusted and ropy. Dog-eared old copy. Vintage and classic, or just plain Jurassic: all words to describe me. You have settled beside me. To the far and the wide of me."

Bowie and Anderson have both proven that sixties’ rock remains classic even unto this new era of "pop" transformation. Their style is classic, timeless, new, cutting edge and unjustly ignored.

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