Post by JTull 007 on Jul 30, 2021 0:39:39 GMT
Jethro Tull, 25th Anniversary Tour
LINK by Muralidharan PC Jun 11
Throwback to 1994. The first time I saw an international act live.
The month of February in Madras, India is a time when the sun doesn’t flog its might on its lovely citizens. Yet. The air is still balmy. ‘Hot,’ the word used to describe the charming coastal city’s usual weather pattern, was still a month or two away.
On February 20, 1994 though, Jethro Tull landed in Madras and turned on the heat for over two hours with a blistering performance. It was the last leg of their 25th Anniversary India Tour, after playing in Bombay and Bangalore. And what a show it was!
The concert ambiance was something that was new to me. As we walked past the large parking bay at the YMCA arena, one could hear music screaming out of car radios. Much of it wasn’t just from the Tull catalogue, but classic rock nonetheless. The bonnets of the parked cars served as makeshift bar counters and the evening sea breeze wafted in with copious whiffs of spliff. My cousins and I were buzzed to the brim, waiting for Ian Anderson, Martin Barre, Andy Giddings, Doane Perry, and Dave Pegg to start the magic.
The stage, as I remember, was sparse. A clothesline hung across the front with some underwear and tees. A lady walked in and swept the front of the stage. And the band members appeared next, welcomed by a rip-roaring reception from the crowd. With a hint of British humour, Ian announced: “We didn’t even have the time to wash our underwear as we flew in from Bangalore just now (as he picked those undies from the clothesline and threw it aside). Now that’s out of the way, how are you doing, Madras?”
By 1994, Jethro Tull had become part of Rock Royalty, selling over 30 million records, with 14 of them going platinum. So to have a band of such enormous stature, playing in front of a splendid crowd, was a sight to behold.
I don’t remember every song they played that day. But I do distinctly remember that they didn’t leave out the best ones from their two-hour set. ‘Songs From The Wood,’ the charming tale of British rural life, woven with folklore and fantasy was the opening number. They segued into the Crest Of A Knave album and performed the American social justice anthem, ’Farm On The Freeway.’ Next, I remember they sauntered back in time to their earlier records and played ‘A Song For Jeffrey’ and ‘A New Day Yesterday.’
The crowd waited in anticipation for the one-legged flute maestro, Ian to whip out his favourite instrument and play the JS Bach tribute, ‘Bouree.’ And he did it so brilliantly that the crowd was mesmerised and jubilant in equal measure. Another crowd favourite, a tale about an old biker who refuses to change his old familiar ways, ‘Too Old To Rock n’ Roll, Too Young To Die’ was a splendid sing-along piece for the ecstatic audience. Trivia has it that, although this song was about a biker, Ian Anderson chanced upon the title (‘Too Old…) after an incredibly turbulent flight in the US.
As the crowd was getting rapturous and overwhelmed with all the great music, we realised Tull had already been playing for over an hour and a half. We weren’t sure at that time how long the show would go on. Ian Anderson then swiftly harked us back to his life in the farm, with Martin Barre’s opening riff of ‘Heavy Horses.’ A personal favourite, this song much like the ones from ‘Songs From The Wood,’ has a nostalgic take on farming and the disastrous effects of modernisation. The full panoply of pastoral songs that Ian wrote during the late ’70s are testimony to Jethro Tull’s powerful commentary on society’s rampant, capitalistic sojourns.
nally, the show reached its crescendo with two of their finest songs serving as an appropriate coda to a stellar evening. I could remember the crowd going absolutely delirious when Martin Barre played the stupendous opening riff of ‘Aqualung’ — DA DA DA DA…DAA DAA! Considered as one of the best riffs in rock, this one had long been embedded in the hearts of all Tull fans. Barre slowly ratcheted it up a notch higher and skated through the fretboard with wonderful precision, as Ian and the crowd sang along.
The next one, their closing number, brought in a maelstrom of emotions in every single fan who watched them that evening. It was the fantastic ‘Locomotive Breath,’ a saga about how we are on this frenetic runaway train of unbridled capitalism and feverish debauchery. Where do we get off? That’s a pertinent question Ian asks in the track.
The audience, that night in ’94, wasn’t ready to get off this incredible magical ride that
Ian and his band had taken them on. After 27 years, I am still reminiscing about that
evening, a whirligig of time that promises not to pause.
If Ian were to sing today, “Do you still remember December’s foggy freeze?,”
I’d say, “ I sure as hell do, that fabulous evening, way back in ‘94! ”
LINK by Muralidharan PC Jun 11
Throwback to 1994. The first time I saw an international act live.
The month of February in Madras, India is a time when the sun doesn’t flog its might on its lovely citizens. Yet. The air is still balmy. ‘Hot,’ the word used to describe the charming coastal city’s usual weather pattern, was still a month or two away.
On February 20, 1994 though, Jethro Tull landed in Madras and turned on the heat for over two hours with a blistering performance. It was the last leg of their 25th Anniversary India Tour, after playing in Bombay and Bangalore. And what a show it was!
The concert ambiance was something that was new to me. As we walked past the large parking bay at the YMCA arena, one could hear music screaming out of car radios. Much of it wasn’t just from the Tull catalogue, but classic rock nonetheless. The bonnets of the parked cars served as makeshift bar counters and the evening sea breeze wafted in with copious whiffs of spliff. My cousins and I were buzzed to the brim, waiting for Ian Anderson, Martin Barre, Andy Giddings, Doane Perry, and Dave Pegg to start the magic.
The stage, as I remember, was sparse. A clothesline hung across the front with some underwear and tees. A lady walked in and swept the front of the stage. And the band members appeared next, welcomed by a rip-roaring reception from the crowd. With a hint of British humour, Ian announced: “We didn’t even have the time to wash our underwear as we flew in from Bangalore just now (as he picked those undies from the clothesline and threw it aside). Now that’s out of the way, how are you doing, Madras?”
By 1994, Jethro Tull had become part of Rock Royalty, selling over 30 million records, with 14 of them going platinum. So to have a band of such enormous stature, playing in front of a splendid crowd, was a sight to behold.
I don’t remember every song they played that day. But I do distinctly remember that they didn’t leave out the best ones from their two-hour set. ‘Songs From The Wood,’ the charming tale of British rural life, woven with folklore and fantasy was the opening number. They segued into the Crest Of A Knave album and performed the American social justice anthem, ’Farm On The Freeway.’ Next, I remember they sauntered back in time to their earlier records and played ‘A Song For Jeffrey’ and ‘A New Day Yesterday.’
The crowd waited in anticipation for the one-legged flute maestro, Ian to whip out his favourite instrument and play the JS Bach tribute, ‘Bouree.’ And he did it so brilliantly that the crowd was mesmerised and jubilant in equal measure. Another crowd favourite, a tale about an old biker who refuses to change his old familiar ways, ‘Too Old To Rock n’ Roll, Too Young To Die’ was a splendid sing-along piece for the ecstatic audience. Trivia has it that, although this song was about a biker, Ian Anderson chanced upon the title (‘Too Old…) after an incredibly turbulent flight in the US.
As the crowd was getting rapturous and overwhelmed with all the great music, we realised Tull had already been playing for over an hour and a half. We weren’t sure at that time how long the show would go on. Ian Anderson then swiftly harked us back to his life in the farm, with Martin Barre’s opening riff of ‘Heavy Horses.’ A personal favourite, this song much like the ones from ‘Songs From The Wood,’ has a nostalgic take on farming and the disastrous effects of modernisation. The full panoply of pastoral songs that Ian wrote during the late ’70s are testimony to Jethro Tull’s powerful commentary on society’s rampant, capitalistic sojourns.
nally, the show reached its crescendo with two of their finest songs serving as an appropriate coda to a stellar evening. I could remember the crowd going absolutely delirious when Martin Barre played the stupendous opening riff of ‘Aqualung’ — DA DA DA DA…DAA DAA! Considered as one of the best riffs in rock, this one had long been embedded in the hearts of all Tull fans. Barre slowly ratcheted it up a notch higher and skated through the fretboard with wonderful precision, as Ian and the crowd sang along.
The next one, their closing number, brought in a maelstrom of emotions in every single fan who watched them that evening. It was the fantastic ‘Locomotive Breath,’ a saga about how we are on this frenetic runaway train of unbridled capitalism and feverish debauchery. Where do we get off? That’s a pertinent question Ian asks in the track.
The audience, that night in ’94, wasn’t ready to get off this incredible magical ride that
Ian and his band had taken them on. After 27 years, I am still reminiscing about that
evening, a whirligig of time that promises not to pause.
If Ian were to sing today, “Do you still remember December’s foggy freeze?,”
I’d say, “ I sure as hell do, that fabulous evening, way back in ‘94! ”