Presentation on theme: "Progressive rock continued: Jethro Tull …and solo projects: Rick Wakeman and Mike Oldfield (moved to another file)"— Presentation transcript:
Progressive rock continued: Jethro Tull …and solo projects: Rick Wakeman and Mike Oldfield (moved to another file)
Jethro Tull Henry Jethro William Tull 17th/18th century British agriculturist Pioneering inventions –Horse-drawn seed drill (sowing) and hoe (not a plough)
Jethro Tull, the band Ian Anderson –A court jester? Gentleman farmer with piercing eyes? –Band leader, singer and f ! –Trademark antics. Classical and folk influences Unsinkable Tull – they are still around –http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jethro_Tull_(band)http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jethro_Tull_(band) 2 famous songs from Aqualung album, 1971 –Aqualung, inspired by poverty and homelessness on the Tames embankment. Concert 1978, Madison Quare Garden. dscreen&v=tQCvNj1F3-w/http://www.youtube.com/watch?NR=1&feature=en dscreen&v=tQCvNj1F3-w/ –Locomotive Breath, in concert &feature=relatedhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gWubhw8SoBE &feature=related Album covers: Aqualung and 1976 album. Read the title on the cover:
Aqualung lyrics Sitting on a park bench eyeing little girls with bad intent. Snot running down his nose greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes. Drying in the cold sun Watching as the frilly panties run. Feeling like a dead duck spitting out pieces of his broken luck. Sun streaking cold an old man wandering lonely. Taking time the only way he knows. Leg hurting bad, as he bends to pick a dog-end he goes down to the bog and warms his feet. Feeling alone the army's up the rode salvation à la mode and a cup of tea. Aqualung my friend don't start away uneasy you poor old sod, you see, it's only me. Do you still remember December's foggy freeze when the ice that clings on to your beard is screaming agony. And you snatch your rattling last breaths with deep-sea-diver sounds, and the flowers bloom like madness in the spring.
Locomotive breath In the shuffling madness Of the locomotive breath, Runs the all-time loser, Headlong to his death. He feels the piston scraping -- Steam breaking on his brow -- Thank God, he stole the handle and The train won't stop going -- No way to slow down. He sees his children jumping off At the stations -- one by one. His woman and his best friend -- In bed and having fun. He's crawling down the corridor On his hands and knees -- Old Charlie stole the handle and The train won't stop going -- No way to slow down. He hears the silence howling -- Catches angels as they fall. And the all-time winner Has got him by the balls. He picks up Gideon's Bible -- Open at page one -- God stole the handle and The train won't stop going -- No way to slow down.
The folk years, No Lullaby, from Heavy Horses, 1978, quintessential Jethro. –http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1oSeTtUt2xwhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1oSeTtUt2xw Songs from the Wood, from eponymous album, 1977 –http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KgUw6t3b6oE&feat ure=BFa&list=AL94UKMTqg-9BmOBw0qdk_3zZIZ- KixAys&lf=list_relatedhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KgUw6t3b6oE&feat ure=BFa&list=AL94UKMTqg-9BmOBw0qdk_3zZIZ- KixAys&lf=list_related
No Lullaby Keep your eyes open and prick up your ears --- rehearse your loudest cry. There's folk out there who would do you harm so I'll sing you no lullaby. There's a lock on the window; there's a chain on the door: a big dog in the hall. But there's dragons and beasties out there in the night to snatch you if you fall. So come out fighting with your rattle in hand. Thrust and parry. Light a match to catch the devil's eye. Bring a cross of fire to the fight. And let no sleep bring false relief from the tension of the fray. Come wake the dead with the scream of life. Do battle with ghosts at play. Gather your toys at the call-to-arms and swing your big bear down. Upon our necks when we come to set you sleeping safe and sound. It's as well we tell no lie to chase the face that cries. And little birds can't fly so keep an open eye. It's as well we tell no lie so I'll sing you no lullaby.
Songs from the wood Let me bring you songs from the wood: To make you feel much better than you could know. Dust you down from tip to toe. Show you how the garden grows. Hold you steady as you go. Join the chorus if you can: It'll make of you an honest man. Let me bring you love from the field: Poppies red and roses filled with summer rain. To heal the wound and still the pain That threatens again and again As you drag down every lover's lane. Life's long celebration's here. I'll toast you all in penny cheer. Let me bring you all things refined: Galliards and lute songs served in chilling ale. Greetings well met fellow, hail! I am the wind to fill your sail. I am the cross to take your nail: A singer of these ageless times. With kitchen prose and gutter rhymes. Songs from the wood make you feel much better.
Extension Aqualung considered to be a concept album. Anderson denying it vehemently, said wed make them one mother of all concept albums Thick as a Brick (1973) in concert, 1978, Madison Square Garden, HD –http://www.youtube.com/wa tch?v=BV- ASc0qkrM&feature=relatedhttp://www.youtube.com/wa tch?v=BV- ASc0qkrM&feature=related
Extension 2 Minstrel in the Gallery, 1975, Tampa stadium 1976 –http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m_lQ0H4z ZEA&feature=relatedhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m_lQ0H4z ZEA&feature=related Budapest, 1987, evidence of resurgence of hard/prog rock –http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w9ZQ7Res e70&feature=artisthttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w9ZQ7Res e70&feature=artist
Budapest I think she was a middle-distance runner... (the translation wasn't clear). Could be a budding stately hero. International competition in a year. She was a good enough reason for a party... (well, you couldn't keep up on a hard track mile) while she ran a perfect circle. And she wore a perfect smile in Budapest... hot night in Budapest. We had to cozzy up in the old gymnasium... dusting off the mandolins and checking on the gear. She was helping out at the back-stage... stopping hearts and chilling beer. Yes, and her legs went on for ever. Like staring up at infinity through a wisp of cotton panty along a skin of satin sea. Hot night in Budapest. You could cut the heat, peel it back with the wrong side of a knife. Feel it blowing from the side fills. Feel like you were playing for your life (if not the money). Hot night in Budapest. She bent down to fill the ice box and stuffed some more warm white wine in like some weird unearthly vision wearing only T-shirt, pants and skin. You know, it rippled, just a hint of muscle. But the boys and me were heading west so we left her to the late crew and a hot night in Budapest. It was a hot night in Budapest. She didn't speak much English language... (she didn't speak much anyway). She wouldn't make love, but she could make good sandwich and she poured sweet wine before we played. Hey, Budapest, cha, cha, cha. Let's watch her now. I thought I saw her at the late night restaurant. She would have sent blue shivers down the wall. But she didn't grace our table. In fact, she wasn't there at all. Yes, and her legs went on forever. Like staring up at infinity. Her heart was spinning to the west-lands and she didn't care to be that night in Budapest. Hot night in Budapest.
Homework Listening to the music identified here Tull readings –Critics critical appreciation –Comparison with the students own insights Watching BBC video on previous slide –Answering comprehension questions.