Author: Peter Podbrežnik
Artist: Jethro Tull
Label: EMI Records
Released: 1989
Rating: 3/5
Ian Anderson, that cheeky Scottish uncle with a flute in one hand and a pipe in the other, and his slightly less shameless band of merry men must have been laughing all the way to heaven when, after the release of “Crest Of A Knave” (1987), which brought them a controversial Grammy for best heavy metal album of the year, they enjoyed a veritable career renaissance and a fresh surge of interest in their music, especially among younger generations who hadn’t even been born when Jethro Tull put out their first album. The Grammy story still stirs tempers today and serves Ian as extremely handy material for onstage wisecracks. The cynicism at the expense of the idiocy of the music industry and the resting on their laurels didn’t last long, though, because the gang quickly got down to making the next album.
Even though the band members didn’t lose much sleep over it, plenty of fans were anxiously wondering how Tull would follow up an album as successful as “Crest of A Knave”. And that’s despite the fact that, artistically, it’s nowhere near their greatest achievements. Ian, whose trademark voice was slowly starting to come back, and his crew answered that question by using the same hard rock recipe as before and, with “Rock Island”, creating almost a stylistic twin of its predecessor, with the difference that they scrubbed a lot of the 80s tech influence out of the production and said a final goodbye to programmed drums. Those are, thankfully, a thing of the past, and Doane Perry could finally spit in his hands and let loose on his arsenal of “pots and pans”. This time Ian brought in a proper keyboardist in the form of Martin Allcock (ex-Fairport Convention), while former member Peter-John Vettese also pitches in here and there. The key player for that “hard rock” element is, as usual, Ian’s inseparable comrade, guitarist Martin Barre, who, teamed up with the versatile bassist Dave Pegg (who also picks up the mandolin now and then), forms a winning partnership of energetic and melancholic passages alike. The songs have a slightly darker mood, too, since almost without exception they deal with the social issues of the day (a devalued society, alienation, loneliness, environmental problems, etc.). The album’s name refers to the Isle Of Skye, an island at the far west of Scotland, where Ian’s residence was at the time. Most of the material on the album splits into rhythmically simple hard rock energy boosters and somewhat more complex moments with more emphasis on flute and keyboards. Still, you won’t find anything on it that has much to do with prog rock, or that stands out in any way from the general level of solidity, the way its predecessor did with the classic “Budapest”. You’ll search “Rock Island” in vain for some standout Tull masterpiece.
The very solid opening hard rock rabble-rouser “Kissing Willie”, a story about forbidden love behind the walls of a factory, is one of those many sexual innuendos of Ian’s that he’s been charmingly poking fun at since way back (e.g. “Nursie”, “Pussy Willow”). In many ways it’s similar to “Steel Monkey” from the previous album, since it has a similar ZZ Top-style groove. Ian still hasn’t completely shaken off the vocal resemblance to Mark Knopfler (Dire Straits) that came from having to change his singing style after damaging his vocal cords, which certainly helps the commercial appeal of some of the tracks. Well, this time there are “live” drums, and Martin’s guitar riffs are a notch wittier too, not to mention the tickling lyrics. Many people remember this song mostly for its notorious, burlesque video, in which Ian does a great Benny Hill impression and which he personally isn’t the least bit proud of. Some even condemned the video for supposedly containing pornographic elements, which in my view is a pretty over-the-top accusation. The fairly funk-leaning hard rocker “The Rattlesnake Trail” carries on at a similar ZZ Top-ish mid-tempo, with a heavy emphasis on Martin’s electric guitar, from which quality riffs and witty passages come smoking. Ian “loosens up” his vocals again here, although they no longer have their old suppleness. “Ears Of Tin”, which deals with the social disintegration of the Scottish Highlands, the move to the big cities and the longing to return to the countryside, is again a bit more like a classic Tull folk rocker. Despite the energetic flute and guitar passages and Ian’s attempt to revive the old folk rock magic, it’s a rather mediocre effort.
The old trickster indulges his fantasies on “Undressed To Kill” too, which is about a stripper in a nightclub, though it touches only on a social problem rooted in society’s false morality and a dancer burdened with trauma. Ian’s playful flute shenanigans and Martin’s gastronomic guitar solos are the main reason it doesn’t come off as some second-rate Dire Straits pub rock clone and why it breathes with that dynamic so typical of Jethro Tull. The title track “Rock Island”, about the social loneliness of an individual who, faced with incomprehension, likes to retreat now and then back into his beloved “womb”, is a very good piece of work, one I could maybe even pick as the album’s best moment, even though it’s not some Tull classic. Its main charm is the melancholic and at times frisky ambience created by the harmony between the keyboards in the background, juicy flute and oiled-up guitar passages. Ian’s voice, too, sounds a bit more like its former glory this time, while the prog rock element of their music comes through more strongly here for the first time. “Heavy Weather”, which refers to the ecological disaster caused by the explosion at Chernobyl, touches on environmental issues, including the “black” rain Ian experienced during a tour of America in the early 70s. Musically, it’s another solid, playful hard rocker, adorned with a colorful solo on guitar and flute.
The folk rock “Another Christmas Song” is a sort of continuation of the cult piece “A Christmas Song”, the B-side of a 1968 single. Unlike its rather cynical “ancestor”, it speaks of an atmosphere of togetherness, solidarity and warmth around a home table piled high with food. A simple but juicy main flute motif accompanied by mandolin is its main charm. Of everything on the album, it’s by far the most positively minded and eases up the otherwise pretty dark and tense nature of the record a bit. The epic “The Whaler’s Dues” tackles the thorny issue of whaling and offers a glimpse into the inner feelings of a whaler. Though it’s aimed neither at idealizing nor criticizing whale hunting, it’s yet another environmental message from a gentleman who, as the owner of a salmon farm, allowed the culling of seals. Although it’s one of the better pieces on the album, its rather gloomy mood can quickly start to bore the listener. The dramatic main motif, the interesting use of flute that’s atypical for Ian, and the melancholic keyboards are dragged down a little by the fact that, in my opinion, Ian didn’t exactly deliver the lyrics in the best way this time. The individual instrumental bits and transitions are excellent regardless, especially Martin’s guitar.
“Big Riff And Mando” was inspired by an interesting incident that once happened to Martin. During a show in the US, somebody stole his mandolin from the dressing room. Since “Lancelot” was inconsolable, Ian published a plea in a music magazine for the instrument to be returned, and the thief, amazingly, did eventually return the mandolin completely undamaged (the motive for the theft was never established). “Marty” in the lyrics is of course Martin, while the “big riff” is a metaphor for the thief. Thanks to tasteful trade-offs between mandolin and electric guitar, the song is an interesting crossover between folk and hard rock. Martin’s riffs, Dave’s mandolin and Ian’s dreamy flute passages make up one of the more interesting pieces on the album. The closing “Strange Avenues” is a kind of lyrical continuation of the critical social conditions from the legendary classic “Aqualung” from 1971. The band successfully presented the old theme of the huge gulf between social classes in a different time. After tense opening passages between flute, guitar and keyboards, it unfolds into a very good acoustic arrangement, where Ian’s vocals come in with undisguised cynicism in his voice. The high drama suddenly drops off with a completely unexpected ending.
The bonus tracks on the reissue are three good live recordings from a show in Zürich, Switzerland. All three performances are fan favorites. The excellent rendition of the aforementioned “Christmas Song” works as a point of comparison with “Another Christmas Song”, while the medley “Cheap Day Return/Mother Goose” (the latter in a considerably shortened version) and the standard “Locomotive Breath”, which is played this time in a much simpler version (without the keyboard intro), serve as a nostalgic trip back to the days of the band’s greatest artistic inspiration.
Contrary to the opinions of most critics, then and now, “Rock Island” is a thoroughly solid, hard rock-leaning album and a good successor to its far more commercially notorious predecessor, which just didn’t manage to match its success. That may be the main reason the band practically never remembers it during shows today and most fans only rarely mention it. Its biggest problem is, as already said, the lack of any particularly standout pieces that you could declare Tull classics. There are also noticeably fewer acoustic-leaning songs and quite a few less inspired moments. But all the lovers of Martin’s guitar artistry will get their fill this time. On “Rock Island” there are no masterpieces and no below-average pieces, just solid mediocrity across the board. The band didn’t want to take risks with any excessive stylistic experiments and imitated the style of its predecessor, but, despite the much more natural sound, the album lacks the energy and unpredictability that adorned the “best heavy metal album of the year”. Although over the years Ian will start running short of new ideas and, with the next album, will head into a really strange, almost grotesque blues experiment, the old boy won’t let himself be so easily beaten by pushy youngsters, and he’ll shake plenty more pleasant surprises out of his sleeve (flute, to be precise), which may not make it into the world encyclopedias of rock, but are a fine proof of his tireless hunger to explore new musical territories.
Lineup
Ian Anderson – vocals, flute, mandolin, keyboards, acoustic guitar, drums on 2 and 7
Martin Barre – electric guitar
Dave Pegg – bass guitar, acoustic bass guitar, mandolin
Doane Perry – drums
GUEST MUSICIAN:
Martin Allcock – keyboards on 1 and 10
Peter-John Vettese – keyboards on 3, 4, 5 and 6
Production
Ian Anderson
Track list
1. Kissing Willie (3:32)
2. The Rattlesnake Trail (4:02)
3. Ears Of Tin (4:55)
4. Undressed To Kill (5:25)
5. Rock Island (6:54)
6. Heavy Water (4:12)
7. Another Christmas Song (3:32)
8. The Whaler’s Dues (7:53)
9. Big Riff and Mando (5:58)
10. Strange Avenues (4:10)
Album length: 50:33
Bonus tracks on the 2006 reissue:
11. Christmas Song (live) (3:06)
12. Cheap Day Return / Mother Goose (live) (3:09)
13. Locomotive Breath (live) (3:38)
