Author: Peter Podbrežnik
Artist: Jethro Tull
Label: EMI Records
Release: 1979
Rating: 4/5
A cold wind blew in from the North Sea toward the Scottish Hebrides, heralding creatively darker times for the until-then unsinkable folk rock crew of Jethro Tull and their captain Ian Anderson, who was slowly growing tired of pastoral sounds and farmland scenes and swapped the hoe for the ship’s helm. For “Stormwatch,” the final chapter of their folk rock trilogy (the first two being “Songs From The Wood” and “Heavy Horses”), Ian turned to the North Sea, sailors’ legends and the critical economic and social conditions of the day for creative inspiration, especially the energy crisis that came out of the cozy alliance between greedy corporations and the British administration of the time. Ian, eternal fighter for the rights of the little guy, turns lyrically to the clash between the “good old days” of the unspoiled Scottish countryside with its modern industry and the grim modern times that brought rapid industrialization and energy exploitation. Even though the crew successfully carries on with their visions of progressive folk rock, “Stormwatch” is noticeably the weaker sibling of its two excellent predecessors. The main reason they didn’t manage to repeat yet another masterpiece is that there was a bit less energy driving the band’s steamship, which was, among other things, a logical consequence of the sudden death of their longtime, excellent bassist John Glascock, who was already quite ill before recording began. He played on only three tracks – “Orion,” “Flying Dutchman” and “Elegy” (on the rest he was replaced by none other than Ian, who did the job with distinction). John tragically passed away from heart problems and a botched heart valve operation that took the life of the best bassist in the band’s history. Ian nevertheless found his feet very well, once again proved his multi-instrumental talent and turned “Stormwatch” into yet another very good, classic Tull album. His crew, made up of old sidekick Martin Barre and misters Evans, Palmer and Barlow, carries on one last time making excellent, straight-from-the-heart folk rock. The only difference compared to its predecessor is a slightly darker mood. The album is very dynamic and has absolutely everything that defined Jethro Tull’s musical expression throughout the ’70s: from classic Celtic flute passages and hard rock bits on guitar to baroque arrangements on keyboards.
The opener “North Sea Oil,” which lyrically refers to Ian’s cynical critique of the British government’s decision to start exploiting Scottish energy reserves, is a classic high-voltage folk rocker of the kind we enjoyed on “Heavy Horses.” Barre’s recognizable riff carries the central melody, enriched by witty passages on Ian’s flute that weave cheekily and playfully through the exceptional rhythmic dynamics, under the best direction of good old Barriemore Barlow, to whom Ian also dedicated the current reissue of the album. The hard-hitting “Orion,” Ian’s ode to the ancient hunter and to olden times when man was still thoroughly connected to nature, is stuffed with tasteful orchestral arrangements, the fruit of misters Evans and Palmer’s mastery, and excellent, jagged guitar bits. Glascock’s bass is clearly recognizable inside the track, and there’s no shortage of terrific acoustic touches on Ian’s acoustic guitar either. Another one of those Tull classics where punchy and gentle motifs flow into each other, topped off with a mighty chorus. “Home” is Ian’s genuine and utterly convincing acoustic hymn to the friendly shelter of the hearth; that is, to his Scottish homestead, where, tired from work on the farm, he flops onto the couch, plants his feet on old, faithful Rover and, puffing on his pipe, lets himself drift off to the crackling of the fireplace. A gentle pastoral melody carried by three-part guitar harmonies, gorgeous orchestral arrangements and Ian’s singing, steeped in old-timey fervor, conjure up that authentic Celtic magic that’s the hallmark of all their “Christmas” songs. After idealizing the old days, the crew returns to gloomy, modern times on “Dark Ages,” one of their last major epics, and conjures up one of the best pieces from their era of experimenting with progressive folk rock. This superb composition is stuffed with a string of charming time changes, tied together by Ian’s dramatic vocal expression, which gets its momentum from maestro Barre’s brilliant opening riff. A hellish rhythm and numerous sawing guitar passages fight a constant battle with the sharpened flute and tasteful baroque orchestral touches in the background. Inside, you can also revel in a string of witty instrumental bits and solos, which Ian’s vocals nonetheless keep carefully under melodic control the whole time. The result is one of their sharpest pieces ever, sailing beautifully between the hellish rhythms of a battle march and charming symphonics. The sea-scented wit of “Warm Sporran,” a cheeky instrumental that was also released as a single, conjures up the authentic atmosphere of Captain Ian, who, with the indispensable pipe, kilt and whisky, gives orders to his sailors as they sail past glaciers with frost hanging from their beards. At its core it’s a classic madrigal form, out of which the crew builds a proper sailors’ march, the product of exceptionally witty passages on mandolin, flute, bass (I must admit it always surprises me how well Ian replaced Glascock on this instrument, who is barely missed on most of the album), drums and multi-voiced sea-shanty humming on the chorus. Juicy Celtic orchestral arrangements that lean toward the bagpipes remind the listener that these are Scottish sailors in kilts. “Something’s On The Move” is a classic smasher, where we can enjoy red-hot hard rock guitar passages courtesy of maestro “Lancelot,” a witty play of cymbals and massive transitions from under the “fisherman’s” fingers, and the indignant vocal performance of the Scottish uncle, who doesn’t skimp on his traditional flute wit. An exceptionally juicy display of honest heavy metal, Jethro Tull style. “Old Ghosts” is another very entertaining little folk rock number, rich with tasteful acoustic and orchestral arrangements. Without Barre’s bristling guitar passages it could have been an extremely serene Celtic ballad, but as it is, we get an energetic folk rocker, where the two keyboard masters, keeping pace with Ian’s flute and vocals as equals, are an especially fun treat. “Dun Ringill” is yet another of the indispensable Tull acoustic classics, where the ever-cunning uncle, through elegant acoustic guitar playing and serene singing, carries us off to the Isle of Skye, the northernmost of the islands in the Scottish Hebrides. The excellent melancholic half-ballad “Flying Dutchman,” which revives the legend of the legendary ghost ship (it suddenly occurred to me to wonder when Ian will go for a role in the next Pirates of the Caribbean), is one of their most beautiful pieces and, in terms of lyrical expression, one of their strongest ever. Ian’s heart-rending vocals, the elegant sounds of Martin’s mandolin, which slightly break up the melancholy, and dramatic symphonic keyboard touches are the building blocks of this fairy tale from some ancient time when sailing the sea was still a romantic and responsible adventure. Ian’s solo flute performance, where he serves up some of the most beautiful Celtic passages on the whole album, is a real balm for the heart and soul. The closing instrumental lament, fittingly titled “Elegy,” written by Mr. David Palmer, is an example of a classic orchestral composition for piano and orchestra and their last experiment in symphonic prog worth mentioning.
The bonus tracks from the reissue are among the better bonuses from reissues. Most of them were recorded during the making of “Stormwatch” but left off because they didn’t fit well with the album’s overall sound. The punchy, witty folk rocker “A Stitch In Time,” which came out as a single even before “Stormwatch” was released, is full of witty orchestral arrangements, and also has a mocking vocal and lyrical criticism of the harsh social conditions of the time. The female backing vocals on the chorus sound especially juicy and fresh, and surprisingly they blend really well with Ian’s “grumbling.” The hard rocking “Crossword” is a far less interesting and inspired creation that keeps circling around the same riff and repetitive main motif. It’s actually a kind of forerunner of some future creations from the ’80s. That’s followed by a big pleasant surprise, “Kelpie,” one of their wittiest folk rock pieces, and listening to it you can easily picture that polar bear from the album’s back cover happily dancing to the sounds of a Scottish march while sharing whisky and a pipe with Ian. A great chorus, a swaying rhythm and a rowdy flute are the main virtues of this cheeky experiment, which really sounds like it was made in some Scottish pub where Ian is telling his sailor stories. “King Henry’s Madrigal” is a madrigal from the age of King Henry VIII’s troubadours, stuffed with witty baroque touches, and with it the crew comes closest to that true medieval pastoral, the kind otherwise cultivated by the masters of baroque folk prog Gryphon.
Even though, as far as atmosphere and unbridled energy go, it noticeably limps behind both predecessors and the status of a masterpiece, “Stormwatch” is an excellent, thoroughly classic Tull album that all too often gets overlooked by most of the band’s fans. It’s an album that closed out their golden creative period and heralded much harder times, when they had to fight their way through the ’80s with some radical musical experiments if they wanted to survive. In my opinion, it’s the last Tull album worthy of admiration before they started dabbling big time in synthetic production, electronics and the digital technology of the ’80s, which never suited their Celtic soul. After the tour and the label’s unexpected decision that Ian’s first solo album would become the next Tull album, Captain Ian and his first mate on guitar were left without their best crew, who were understandably insulted by such a move. Evans and Palmer founded the short-lived project Tallis, while Barrie Barlow became a successful producer. Glascock’s position was taken over by the legendary David Pegg (Fairport Convention), who had the longest tenure of any of their bassists so far (16 years). With the collapse of their classic lineup, the classic Jethro Tull came to an end too, followed by a long period of strange sonic experimentation that was far from the old Tull magic.
Lineup
Ian Anderson – vocals, flute, acoustic guitar, bass guitar
Martin Barre – electric guitar, mandolin, classical guitar
John Glascock – bass guitar, backing vocals (on tracks 2, 9 and 10)
John Evans – piano, organ
David Palmer – synthesizer, organ, orchestral arrangements
Barriemore Barlow – drums, percussion
GUEST MUSICIAN
Francis Wilson – spoken word on 8
Production
Ian Anderson and Robin Black
Track list
1. North Sea Oil (3:11)
2. Orion (3:58)
3. Home (2:45)
4. Dark Ages (9:14)
5. Warm Sporran (3:35)
6. Something’s On The Move (4:27)
7. Old Ghosts (4:23)
8. Dun Ringill (2:42)
9. Flying Dutchman (7:45)
10. Elegy (3:34)
Album length: 43:54
Bonus tracks from the reissue (2004):
11. A Stitch In Time (3:40)
12. Crossword (3:38)
13. Kelpie (3:37)
14. King Henry’s Madrigal (3:01)
