A

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Author: Peter Podbrežnik

Artist: Jethro Tull
Label: EMI Records
Release: 1980
Rating: 3.5/5

After the “Stormwatch” (1979) tour wrapped up, Ian Anderson, a distant descendant of the rowdy Greek god Pan and the cunning Pied Piper of Hamelin, decided to record his first solo album, with which he wanted to prove to certain inconsolable smart alecks that Jethro Tull were far from just another name for the Ian Anderson Band. To pull it off, he called in nimble-fingered Eddie Jobson, one of the finest multi-instrumentalists of the day, who had made his name working with legends like King Crimson (he was never an official member, though he did help re-record a few instrumental bits on their second live album “USA”), Roxy Music, Frank Zappa and UK. Eddie also brought along drummer Mark Craney, with whom he was then recording his first solo album. With the two of them and the freshly minted Tull bassist David Pegg (best known as the longtime bassist of Fairport Convention) at his side, Ian headed into the studio to make something different from the folk-rock-soaked sound Jethro Tull had had up to then. Suddenly he realized he was missing an electric guitarist, and he made a move he now rather regrets. He invited his longtime Tull comrade Martin “Lancelot” Barre to take part, originally only on a few tracks. That bumped the number of Tull members on the record up to three. In the end Martin played on every single track on the album, because the chemistry in the camp was unbelievable. Ian meant to turn his back on acoustic-drenched folk rock and create something modern for the time: an electrified hard rock seasoned with electronic touches. Meanwhile, he made it clear to the other three then-current Tull members (that’s John Evans, David Palmer and Barriemore Barlow) that he’d be counting on them again once the solo experiment was over. But then came the big surprise. When the top brass at Chrysalis, with Terry Ellis at the helm, heard the album, they absolutely insisted that “A” (A as in Anderson) come out as a Jethro Tull album and not as Ian’s solo project. At the same time, Ellis, without Ian’s knowledge, spread the word that Jobson was the band’s new member, even though he’s officially credited on the album only as a special guest. When the other three members of the existing Tull lineup learned from the newspapers that they were no longer in the band, they were of course royally stung, and Ian still regrets today that their membership ended that way. Jobson had made it clear from the start that he was only a special guest, not an official member, and that he planned to move on to other projects after the tour. But the damage was done: Evans and Palmer never came back, and Ian had to give up for a long time that natural, heartfelt sound of keyboards and orchestral arrangements that had defined the band in the ’70s.

The main thing that makes “A” such a special experiment and a completely one-of-a-kind album in the whole Tull discography is without a doubt the musical contribution of the androgynous maestro Jobson, who brought the band the mighty, orchestral sound of electric piano and the synthesizers that were modern at the time and already had one foot in the ’80s, while his electric violin, on the other hand, kept some of those folk-rock passages alive that were typical of their late-’70s sound. That’s also why “A” can be seen as a transitional album, somewhere along the road from folk prog rock to the synthetic, new-wave-tinged hard rock that dominated their music through the ’80s. Craney, for his part, brought an incredibly massive and dynamic style of drumming, much like his jazz-rooted predecessor, which is no surprise given his work with the legendary French violinist Jean-Luc Ponty. Even though with the dawn of the ’80s you’d expect a total sellout of the original Tull magic in favor of robotic pop (which did happen four years later), that’s not the case here, and “A” still has a string of bright, folk-spiced gems, just without any real standouts of the kind that marked their masterpieces.

Opener “Crossfire” is an energetic hard rocker in classic Tull style that gets the adrenaline pumping in even the sleepiest head, laced with subtle piano passages, mighty guitar touches from Martin and a gentle flute melody that makes for a dynamic mix of folk and hard rock. Ian is in one of his best vocal forms here and (through most of the album). In fact, most of their better work in the ’80s would follow this very recipe. On the commercially minded energy booster “Flyingdale Flyer”, which also came out as a single, Jobson shows off his virtuoso use of ambient synths for the first time, blending beautifully with witty flute and guitar passages. The epic chorus shows Ian’s lyrical fascination with aviation, which this time around replaced seafaring on his list of interests. Rhythmically a bit monotonous but red-hot, “Working John, Working Joe”, where Ian again touches on the social problems of Thatcher’s Britain and life under Big Brother’s watchful eye, leans on a multi-voiced chorus and a sharpened riff that keeps coming back. Jobson’s superb, ambient keyboard arrangements and Ian’s vocal, with the tone of a suffering martyr, pull this solid piece out of gray mediocrity. On the epic and dramatic “Black Sunday”, one of the most vivid pieces on the album, Tull once again show off their energetic blend of hard rock, electronic sounds and Celtic keyboard arrangements. Dramatic synth sounds herald the intro to a witty tempo, where the interplay between flute and guitar reigns supreme. Ian’s dramatic vocal delivery, backed by sawing guitar passages and witty jazzy piano bits in the style of Jobson’s days with UK, is a real treat for anyone who loves Celtic drama. The second half of the composition is especially juicy, when a classic Barre guitar solo comes crashing in, joined by Ian’s flute solo that conjures up a genuine Celtic melancholy. “Protect And Survive” is another great Tull classic that still turns up in their live repertoire from time to time. The excellent opening Celtic flute motif, sent on its way by a galloping rhythm and ambient keyboard sounds, creates the atmosphere of preparing for some battle. Here you can also marvel at Craney’s red-hot machine-gunning of the drums. Ian briefly experiments with a digital effect that robotizes the vocal, something he’ll happily play around with on the following albums too. The sharpened wit of “Batteries Not Included” is one of the album’s bigger electronic experiments, with electronic synth sounds accompanying a punchy rhythm and a digitized vocal, which is still easy to recognize even under such extreme conditions. What builds on that mighty, varied rhythm laced with witty flute sounds is the excellent electric violin passages, which complement the traditionally sharp sound of Martin’s guitar beautifully. The electronic keyboard sounds also sit amazingly well inside the galloping rhythm. “Uniform” would be a pretty dull piece if it weren’t rescued by the schizoid sounds of Jobson’s electric violin, which float somewhere between traditional folk rock and electronica the whole time and create a “uniformed” atmosphere. It’s one of the few moments on the album where Jobson’s violin manages to briefly overshadow even Ian’s flute, and for that reason alone this piece deserves extra attention. “4.W.D. (Low Ratio)” is a rather quirky, partly successful experiment, somewhere on the border between Dire Straits-style pub rock and traditional Tull folk prog. Barroom piano sounds, a funky rhythm and flute antics create the mood of a sleepy afternoon. Ian’s vocal, run through a special bass effect on the chorus, Barre’s inventive solo and the numerous electronic effects are the main virtues of this fairly average piece. The merry company returns to its traditional folk-rock shenanigans on the mischievous instrumental “The Pine Marten’s Jig”, where on the way to the hunting lodge they make a detour through a Scottish pub. Besides that classic folk rock, which this time comes very close to Pegg’s comrades in Fairport Convention, there’s also a bunch of interesting ideas in there, brought by the excellent harmonies between Ian’s flute and Eddie’s violin. Martin, with his trademark hard-rock hooks on the guitar, and the melodic rolling of David’s bass are also clearly audible. The closing ballad “And Further On” is another classic Celtic lament in their finest tradition, graced by Ian’s heart-wrenching vocal, ambient orchestral passages on piano and synthesizers, and Martin’s raw yet subtle guitar passages, which provide a fitting finish to one of the strangest albums in the band’s story.

The current reissue of “A” will delight all fans of video footage, as it comes with a bonus DVD containing the complete “Slipstream”, their first official concert video. It’s an excellent recording of a show from the “A” tour that presents this one-of-a-kind, short-lived lineup as great interpreters of some of the most beloved Tull classics too. Most of the footage is accompanied by some extremely witty videos that showcase Ian’s tremendous acting talent, which often borders on self-parody and boundless charisma. Among other things, Ian plays his alter ego Aqualung at the opening and close of the show and in the performance of the song of the same name, the good-natured Count Dracula on “Sweet Dream”, and a randy old man on “Too Old To Rock’n’Roll To Young To Die”, which is in my opinion their funniest video and in which the entire lineup shines in various disguises. The repertoire is limited, though, and robbed of a good number of classics. Still, besides “Black Sunday” and “Flyingdale Flyer”, energetically played pieces from “A”, these lineups also play older classics in their own way, such as the acoustic Celtic ballad “Dun Ringill”, “Songs From The Wood”, “Heavy Horses”, where Jobson also slots in a great electric violin solo, “Skating Away On The Thin Ice Of A New Day” and “Locomotive Breath”. Even though a fair number of favorites are missing, it’s an interesting document of this short-lived incarnation of the band, who appear on stage dressed in white parachute tracksuits with the A logo, a true embodiment of ’80s fashion kitsch. Still, it all fades next to the reminder that Tull have plenty of much, much better video recordings from the ’70s in the vault, next to which footage like “Slipstream” gets pushed into a dark corner.

Alongside the Grammy-burlesque “Crest Of A Knave” (1987), “A” is surely one of the most entertaining experiments in their entire discography, one that ultimately proved surprisingly listenable and turned up quite a few interesting gems. Despite the occasional experimenting with electronic sounds (which, unlike similar attempts down the road, are played the way they should be and don’t sound synthetic), there’s still enough of that classic folk-rock sound on it to enjoy it quite decently. And that’s despite the fact that it’s far from the authentic folk magic of their earlier albums. Had it come out as Ian’s debut, it would have earned a flat ten, but as it stands it’s just a solid experiment that already foretold the gradual synthification of the sound and creatively tougher times for the old cats of progressive rock, who somehow had to fight their way through the inhospitable ’80s. “A” is a dynamic transitional album that most fans will be able to view with understanding, as a child of its time. The main credit for the album not disappointing in the slightest, and for the move to the new sound not being too merciless, goes to Jobson and Craney, who both left right after the tour. In the following years Jobson turned to making music for film and TV (for the series Miami Vice, for instance), while Craney, not long ago, tragically passed away from complications following a failed transplant. Ian, as is only fitting, dedicated the reissue of the album to him, and it remains a unique keepsake of his first solo album, which never became one.

Lineup

Ian Anderson – vocals, flute
Martin Barre – electric guitar
Dave Pegg – bass guitar
Mark Craney – drums

GUEST MUSICIAN:
Eddie Jobson – keyboards, electric violin

Production

Ian Anderson and Robin Black

Tracklist

1. Crossfire (3:54)
2. Fylingdale Flyer (4:36)
3. Working John, Working Joe (5:04)
4. Black Sunday (6:36)
5. Protect and Survive (3:37)
6. Batteries Not Included (3:53)
7. Uniform (3:34)
8. 4.W.D. (Low Ratio) (3:42)
9. The Pine Marten’s Jig (3:28)
10. And Further On (4:22)

Album length: 42:46

The 2004 reissue also includes the DVD “Slipstream”:
1. Introduction (3:15)
2. Black Sunday (6:44)
3. Dun Ringill (2:30)
4. Fylingdale Flyer (4:02)
5. Songs From The Wood (4:54)
6. Heavy Horses (6:06)
7. Sweet Dream (4:04)
8. Too Old To Rock ‘n’ Roll Too Young To Die (5:58)
9. Skating Away On The Thin Ice Of The New Day (3:14)
10. Aqualung (8:58)
11. Locomotive Breath (7:30)

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