A Passion Play
Author: Peter Podbrežnik
Artist: Jethro Tull
Label: EMI Records
Released: 1973
Rating: 5/5
Riding high on the wings of their unforgettable masterpiece “Thick As a Brick” (1972), Jethro Tull headed to France, where they started recording a new concept album at the legendary Chateau D’Herouville studio. By the time it came out, its sound had changed radically from what they’d set out to make. The whole session in that studio was dogged by a long string of almost unbelievable mishaps, including trouble with the recording equipment and a bout of food poisoning that hit some of the band. In the end they were seriously unhappy with what they’d put down, so they went back home to England and started over from scratch, this time with a clear vision. Most of the Chateau D’Herouville recordings, which Ian Anderson rather cynically dubbed the “d’isaster tapes”, ended up, after a bit of polishing, on the next studio album, “Warchild” (1974), while the rest landed on the double compilation “Nightcap” (1993). In London they finally recorded another epic piece, which, for logistical reasons, is again split into two connected parts that form a whole, just like “Thick As a Brick”. But that’s where the similarities between the two concept albums end.
“A Passion Play” has a far gloomier mood and a concept revolving around life and death, once again in their traditionally cynical, wickedly sarcastic style, full of English black humor. Despite the word “passion” in the title, it’s not a religious concept or a retelling of key events from the life of Christ, but another mocking satire on the banality of everyday social life, which carries on into the afterlife. After dying, the album’s hero travels to the beyond, in the style of Dante’s “Divine Comedy”, only to discover that it’s not really all that different from reality. Hell, for instance, is one huge bureaucratic breeding ground full of pointless chores, with the devil as the company director tormenting his subordinate souls with the same old administrative tasks.
Musically, “A Passion Play” is surely the band’s most complex and unpredictable album. They pretty much pushed their musical abilities to the limit here and created another album that marked a milestone in the adventurous world of progressive rock. It’s worth stressing that this is the album with the most jazz rock fusion elements they ever allowed themselves, though these never take over. Jethro Tull once again stick to their recognizable sound, built mainly on a mix of hard rock, folk and classical music. The individual arrangements are even more complex this time, and so are the harmonies between the instrumental sections, which are once again at an enviably high level and represent the peak of what these unruly troubadours were capable of. The indestructible Ian Anderson, already a top-notch multi-instrumentalist, picked up the saxophone for the first time here and brought quite a few jazz elements into the album, while the merry prankster of the keyboardists, John Evans, expanded his keyboard arsenal even further and gave the album richer textures still, especially through his Hammond solos. Martin Barre, with his many inventive riffs and solos, mainly takes care of the rock side, while Jeffrey Hammond on bass and Barrie Barlow on drums, who had already proven themselves a winning rhythm section on the previous album, are full of witty ideas and untamed energy.
“A Passion Play – Part 1” opens with building beats and a rustling hum, then moves into a relatively complex, bouncy intro that only becomes truly melodic after a few listens. In the colorful array of instruments that build the playful rhythm, Ian’s masterful flute and woodwinds stand out. After some whistling, a short acoustic guitar passage cuts in, followed beautifully by Ian’s vocals, full of pathos and melancholy, nicely complemented by a gentle piano melody. This part has plenty of calm acoustic guitar passages that keep the mood relaxed. Then comes an ominous, jazzy transition full of complex solos on Hammond organ and electric guitar. After the transition, the drums morph into a complex, fast tempo, with the soprano saxophone reigning as the carrier of the main melody. Then a quiet passage comes back in, where Ian continues his heartfelt lyrical contribution. The composition then picks up a slight Celtic flavor and gets very complex again. The rising mood is down mainly to excellent acoustic guitar and drum passages that give the music a dancing rhythm. Ian’s charismatic vocals nicely tie the lyrical concept together the whole way through. At this point some excellent guitar passages kick in too. Next comes a section where guitar and woodwinds trade off in the background. Then Ian’s always remarkably energetic and dynamic flute takes the initiative, wonderfully complemented by complex guitar lines and dynamic drumming. Then in comes a witty but slightly ominous passage with a wound-up tempo, where Ian’s mocking vocals return. The arrangements are by now very complex, which fills the music with even more energy. Along the way a witty bit of narration briefly cuts in, picked up again by Ian’s vocals. It’s incredible how beautifully the piano and guitar complement the saxophone, Hammond organ and drums, which dramatize the mood the whole time. It keeps swinging somewhere between ominous and playful (Jethro Tull can almost never be fully serious, even when they want to, and that’s one of their main strengths, setting them apart from most other prog bands). Then the tempo calms down for a while and moves into a section where piano and guitar act as the main rhythm section, followed by another excellent lyrical part, where Ian’s unique vocals impress once more, this time carrying the central verse of the composition. This is followed by a fantastic transition into a slightly psychedelic section, where Ian picks up the acoustic guitar again and sets a calm rhythm with it, while the other instruments fall silent for a moment or gradually fade into the background.
With that, the first act wraps up on piano. It’s followed by the satirical story “The Story Of The Hare Who Lost His Spectacles”. You could call it a mocking fable with the obligatory moral, in which Jeffrey Hammond recites the story in a hilariously deadpan way, with children’s music in the style of 1950s cartoons like Tom and Jerry playing behind him the whole time. The tale, which revolves around a sclerotic hare looking for his glasses because without them he’s pretty much totally blind, is marked by classic British black humor that many won’t get, while giving the rest at least a few minutes of laughs. The sclerotic, paranoid hare starts pestering the other animals through intermediaries about his troubles, including the wise owl, who finally advises him to hop into a kangaroo’s pouch and go see an eye doctor. The moral of the story is that you should never make a mountain out of a molehill, if you can help it. It’s a good bit of comic relief that slots in nicely after all the dramatic and complex musical passages of the first part of the “passion play” and provides a little light entertainment, much like the intermission between two acts at the theater. The reissue includes, as a bonus, a pretty grotesque, Monty Python-flavored video of the story, where you can have a laugh at Jeffrey Hammond dressed up as the devil, paranoid ballerinas with silly hairdos, and animal characters performing during the dance (the most grotesque of them are surely the hippo and Mr. Frog in his top hat). The whole thing is so grotesque and old-fashioned that it’s actually fun.
“A Passion Play – Part 2” starts right after the aforementioned humoresque, with the flowing dance music, backed by acoustic guitar and flute, carrying on until Ian’s vocals cut in brilliantly, introducing a new chapter in the journey to the “other side”. The second section is noticeably different from the first, as it’s even more complex and contains even more unpredictable passages. At the same time, it keeps the connection and the sound that marked the first part, thanks to the excellent use of alto saxophone, organ and electric guitar. These instruments form the main solos, which complement and weave into each other incredibly well. After that, an excellent combination of Hammond and drums swings the music in another direction. Another shorter acoustic guitar passage follows, with Ian’s fully committed vocals. The complex rhythm and a great keyboard entrance led by the organ are the main highlights of the middle of the composition. In the next moment the composition twists in another direction again, thanks to energetic guitar passages, harmoniously complemented by organ and flute. Ian’s vocals come in at just the right moment, after his flute masterpieces. Especially thrilling is the Celtic motif amid the successive trading of harmonic passages on saxophone, flute, keyboards and guitar. Also worth noting are the many special sound effects, which wittily complement both the instrumental and the lyrical passages. Toward the end, the composition almost completely calms down over acoustic guitar and gong strikes, when all of a sudden Barre’s razor-sharp guitar cuts back in, heralding one of the most thrilling sections and the grand finale of the whole album. Here, extremely witty and energetic passages reign, with the electric and acoustic guitar work standing out and pushing this part into fairly heavy waters. This goes on until a baroque section arrives via woodwinds and keyboards, which then tips back into the electrified, hard-rocking mode. In fact, there are so many constant section changes in this part of the composition that it would be pointless to break down each one separately. Something this stunning just can’t be put into words. In the end, over Ian’s triumphant verse “There was a rush along the Fulham Road into the Ever-passion Play”, the central theme of the first part returns, followed by an abrupt ending. And that’s the end of this strange but wonderful musical and lyrical journey through the realms beyond the grave, on which we were entertained by Ian’s gang of sharp and witty troubadours, all of them slathered in every kind of grease, who once again outdid themselves.
With “A Passion Play” Jethro Tull once again did the impossible and created another masterpiece, one that can stand fully on equal footing with their magnum opus “Thick As a Brick”, though it has noticeably less of its melodic charm and playfulness. The concept and the interlude humoresque are, once again, only for listeners with broad intellectual horizons, who can always switch off rationalism and swap it for a pinch of British black humor. The greatest strength of “A Passion Play” is that it richly rewards the listener, especially after repeated listens. Probably more than any other album in their history. It may not be among their most accessible albums, but it’s definitely among their most rewarding. Its witty and rich instrumental sections are still a source of inspiration for many modern prog rockers today. It’s a singular example of a prog rock masterpiece that only got its due recognition years later.
In fact, right from the start, any attempt to create a passion play (however different from the classic Biblical one) in the context of rock music left Jethro Tull open to attacks from all manner of self-appointed music critics, for whom the album was the straw that broke the camel’s back, or the “pinnacle of all musical excess” (a phrase they loved to use for any album that crossed the line of their narrow musical horizons). The critics, led by Chris Welch (who had always been supportive of the band until then and even personally apologized to them later for his misguided review), shamelessly exploited their across-the-board narrow-mindedness for an open attack on the album and the band. Real music lovers and fans of the band, of course, paid little attention to this journalistic conspiracy, since they had no trouble recognizing the true value of the masterpiece, which got the band a number one spot on the charts in the US, while in the UK it landed at a still respectable number thirteen. The same year, Yes got similar journalistic treatment for their majestic, yet still often misunderstood magnum opus “Tales From Topographic Oceans”, which clearly showed how far removed most music critics of the day were from reality and from most listeners (really, how different the times were).
After the album came out, the band, still relatively unburdened by the critics, went on a successful tour where they played “A Passion Play” in its entirety. They even planned a stage and film production of the whole album (as is evident from the aforementioned video), but later dropped the idea. Ian Anderson, always sharp, understandably didn’t take all that criticism too well (the straw that broke the camel’s back, or the pinnacle of primitivism, was when journalists simply announced the band’s obituary on their own, and the band members gave each other wide-eyed looks when they read about it the next day!), so with the very next album he decided on a thorough stylistic U-turn, back to shorter songs, which marked yet another new chapter in the band’s constant exploration of its musical limits, and which, with “A Passion Play”, only confirmed its status as one of the main drivers of progressive rock’s development. The band didn’t make peace with the critics for a long time, and Ian often poked fun at them on some later records as well as on concert stages.
Lineup
Ian Anderson – vocals, flute, acoustic guitar, soprano saxophone. sopranino saxophone
Martin Barre – electric guitar
Jeffrey Hammond-Hammond – bass guitar, backing vocals
John Evans – piano, Hammond organ, synthesizer, spoken word
Barriemore Barlow – drums, timpani, glockenspiel, marimba
Production
Terry Ellis
Track List
1. A Passion Play (Part 1) 23:04
2. A Passion Play (Part 2) 22:00
Album length: 45:04