Jethro Tull
25th Anniversary Box Set

In 1993, the fourth quarter-century of Jethro Tull's career is celebrated, and the band, not satisfied with having released the celebratory "20 Years Of Jethro Tull" only 5 years before, marks the occasion with the "25th Anniversary 4CD Box Set." The layout is beautiful: the Box Set is rectangular, featuring a mock Tullian banknote seal on the opening, which unfortunately has to be damaged to reveal the contents. Upon opening it, the massive booklet is immediately visible, displaying a photo of dark brown flutes lined up reminiscent of cigars, with seals forming the inscription "Jethro 25 Tull." The idea is very original, which is why fans often call this Box Set the "Cigar Box;" it is finally complemented by rare and unreleased photos, old newspaper articles, and an in-depth history of the band, all in a hefty 47 pages.

In every box set worthy of being called such, the collection disc is indispensable, the main essence of what a historic band has managed to create over the years of their career. And indeed, the first CD of the 25th Anniversary is retrospective, revisiting the great hits from the oldest to the most recent, but in a much more interesting way: in remix version!!!! In fact, it's simply titled "Remixed Classic Songs." Inserting the disc in the player kicks off a powerful My Sunday Feeling, with sounds seeming sharper, yet still preserving that vintage sound that is so enchanting. The same goes for A Song For Jeffrey. Listening to the historic bass intro of Living In The Past, one barely notices a change, but later in the track, there's an interesting variation of the percussion, especially on the cymbal sounds, specifically emphasized. Teacher, on the other hand, is totally different, losing a bit of its uniqueness, gaining an echo in the vocals and a reverb in Martin Barre's electric guitar: despite this significant change, the piece does not lose its power. Like the previous one, the melodramatic Sweet Dreams immediately sounds different: the track seems less full, stripped of bass and filled with acoustic guitar and winds, whose sound is even more emphasized. Cross Eyed-Mary is more austere, one of the most aggressive pieces ever by Tull, made even nastier by the filtered voice, making the notes complicit and malicious with each other. The aggression then makes way for calmer interludes, that always manage to make you dream and transport you elsewhere: this is the case with The Witch's Promise and Life's A Long Song, fantastic pieces of pure poetry accompanied by acoustic guitars that add the finishing touch to the work. Bungle In The Jungle is ingeniously beautiful even in this version, much less refined and sophisticated than the original, but full of charm. The two masterpieces Minstrel In The Gallery and Cold Wind To Valhalla remain essentially the same, while Too Old To Rock 'n' Roll, Too Young To Die features a somewhat different guitar in the intro. Horrible is the remix of Songs From The Wood, where the choirs are no longer the same, and where a re-recorded acoustic guitar ruins the piece's atmosphere. The sound of Heavy Horses seems like it came out of an '80s chart, with a drum that seems almost sampled... much better the original! The keyboard intro of Black Sunday has been replaced by a great bass piece very similar. The song remains beautiful, even if the voice is doubled. The first disc ends with Broadsword, with a keyboard flange that was previously missing, and with a slight difference in the percussion. Essentially, these remixes are technically well executed, but there is an almost cold diversity, proving that technology cannot improve what creativity creates. And listening confirms it.

With "Carnegie Hall, N.Y. Recorded Live New York City 1970" the delight begins, the cream, the sparkle of the "Golden Age." But first, a small step back. Remember "Living In The Past," dated 1972? Well, on that record, there were two live recordings: Dharma For One, in a new exciting guise for Clive Bunker's solo, and By Kind Permission Of, the suggestive and classic keyboard piece signed by John Evans. The second disc of the Box Set offers the rest of this live recording, in the lineup defined by everyone as classic, namely Anderson, Barre, Cornick, Bunker, and Evans. During the Benefit tour, the band performs on November 4, 1970, at the Carnegie Hall in New York for a charity evening, the proceeds of which will be entirely donated to Phoenix House, a rehabilitation society for drug addicts. Nothing Is Easy is the great opening piece of the magical show, with a lovely organ part played by John Evans and spectacular fake endings. What energy this piece conveys, it's almost better here than on "Stand Up"! Then My God, with an acoustic guitar on which Ian exercised his unique touch, perfect voice, and especially that flute, with those two extraordinary improvisations in between, where Ian's madness and genius unleash all the creativity and mastery possible. A new guise for With You There To Help Me, with a beautiful part of the keyboard, with a small mistake by Evans that fits in, supporting the flute and then off with the magical singing of Benefit memory, with an explosion in the chorus. Return to the origins with A Song For Jeffrey, here too an ovation is obligatory. To Cry You A Song literally scratches, with the sharp riff that Martin Lancelot Barre executes with particular nastiness. Sossity, You're A Woman is the most introspective moment, where it's incredible how Uncle Ian manages to play the acoustic guitar and sing together. Reasons for waiting is another great moment of passion, as is We used To Know, almost tear-jerking. And then the legendary Guitar Solo by Martin Barre, where our dear Uncle Martino has fun, with various Hendrixian reminiscences. While never being considered an excellent guitarist, when our guy hits, he does it properly. Even without him, Jethro wouldn't have been Jethro. The grand finale with For A Thousand Mothers: Glenn Cornick beats the bass like crazy, Clive Bunker is unstoppable, Ian Anderson is out as a balcony, Martin Barre sparks and John Evans offers his usual additional keyboard bases. Amazing, that's it! In this live, the excellent testimony of the band's great shape, in the lineup most appreciated by the most avid early fans, is completed.

I'm craving this third LP with the charming nickname "The Beacons Bottom Tapes," named after the studios where Jethro Tull elaborated all this massive stuff in the tenth month of 1992; let's say the three fantastic pals handed this "thing" to "The Thing," notoriously the most sarcastic of the group. Well: it happened that Ian had the masochistic idea of dressing some of his group's hits with a touch of modernity to offer something different to his fans. Uncle Martino realized immediately that the threat of ridicule was a stone's throw away, but the bard of Blackpool was adamant; sometime later, at the microphones, good Lancelot will confess this reluctance, but by then the pseudo-omelet was made. An omelet with the bottom of bacon, to boot. In truth, it opens with an unreleased track (the only one in the entire box): So Much Trouble is a straightforward blues with no pretensions, not very inspiring, but then: so many problems in the world, why not create new ones? My Sunday Feeling is played very well, with a great bass line taking center stage, but Ian's voice is unfortunately the limit for the leprechaun of the last decades; however, let's say the game holds for now. Another debut sortie, Someday The Sun Won't Shine For You also picks up some fruit, staying at least faithful to the original. Nothing, therefore, indicates collapse, although the following and very famous Living In The Past slightly falls into mannerism, with an omnipresent harmonica and an arrangement from Walker Texas Ranger (but we know that Ian Anderson at that time was identical to Chuck Norris, after all). And yet, the collapse there is: sudden, irrevocable. The Bourée starts unmistakably, but immediately branches out into a Pindaric flight of the flute (that yes, superlative!) poorly anchored by the orchestra for wedding banquets that snakes through the holes of the piccolo; but there's still nothing: With You There To Help Me begins unrecognizably. Slow, full of mandolins, soft: if it weren't for the prods from good Martino giving it depth, it would be just any song (which is a heavy thing to say for such a track). Will the originally stunning Thick As A Brick manage to bring intrepid Ian back to the surface? No: the 8-minute medley is it, it is the usual track, but it fails to enchant, due to the organ reminiscent of a Gospel chorus that is not John Evan's keyboard, because the voice is another, because Ian can't do Bolan's Marc sighs. "Cheerio" (along with the unreleased track, the only one not recorded in bacon) is fun with its very country and cheerful strummings. Fun and nothing more. A New Day Yesterday is needlessly stretched to eight whole minutes: played beautifully, but it didn't need proving. The instrumental Protect And Survive, contrary to me, offers some extra emotion, just like the Jack-A-Lynn it fades into and that, in the original, is too beautiful to make a mess of it. A mess that unfortunately is not long in the making: ladies and gentlemen, the Pooh in The Whistler. I will add nothing else, except another praise to Martin Redeemer. There, now I feel down, thinking that the two concluding songs are pillars of world music. My God, shivers. But that voice doesn’t shiver, not entirely, at least; and yet the track, though lengthened by a useless cabaret interval, does not dishonor the masterpiece it was. Not so, unfortunately, is Aqualung: the suffering of the tramp becomes a caricature and, while of excellent craftsmanship, it demonstrates that 22 years is still a lot even for a gem. Not an enormity, but enough to crown a half-baked flop. Lucky I adore Jethro Tull, huh...

"Pot Pourri - Live Across The World & Through The Years"the last chapter of the box set, is dedicated to the live exploits of the minstrel Ian Anderson and his cronies. The album, though of indubitable general qualities, is nevertheless quite uneven, as it mixes (although in chronological order) concerts ranging from as far back as 1969 to the relatively recent 1992... nevertheless, it is always a "good listen"! It begins immediately, for the fans' delight, with two unreleased tracks: they are To Be Sad Is A Mad Way To Be and Back To The Family (Stockholm, 1969)... two hot blues-rock tracks showing the soul of the earliest Tull, where leadership, now well-defined, it had just emerged from the contention between Anderson himself and Mick Abrahams. It continues with an excerpt of A Passion Play (Paris, 1975): the version presented here, embellished by a fiery performance by Martin Barre, clearly presents the true potential of the much-criticized successor to Thick As A Brick... potential unfortunately overshadowed by heavy over-arrangement in the studio. Continuing the listening, we come to the vigorous medley Wind-Up / Locomotive Breath / Land Of Hope And Glory (London, 1977), often used as the closing for concerts on the "Songs From The Wood" tour. The turning point of the disc... and the turning point of Tull's career: we enter the '80s. Seal Driver (Hamburg, 1982) is a solid hard-rock track taken from the excellent "The Broadsword And The Beast"... while Nobody's Car (in a version clearly superior to the studio counterpart) and Pussy Willow (London, 1984) are from the "Under Wraps" tour. The remaining tracks date back to the '90s. From the 1991 tour, the new classic Budapest, the aged Nothing Is Easy, Kissing Willie", and the unusual (vaguely reminiscent of Santana's sounds) Still Lovin' You Tonight are captured... These four tracks show how, from a mediocre album like Catfish Rising, truly top-notch performances can emerge. We head to the conclusion with the extracts from the North American stages of '92, which testify to the shift towards oriental sounds... sounds that we will find three years later in the pleasant "Roots To Branches." Thus begins the fresh Beggar's Farm... which is followed by a reinterpretation in a modern key of A Passion Play (humorously titled A Passion Jig), the well-known Song For Jeffrey and, finally, a reworked version of Living In The Past.

So closes a box set worthy of its name, even if not up to par with its predecessor released 5 years before. The unreleased tracks are scarce, since the most interesting ones will be published on the double Nightcap, released the same year, and some songs are found twice, if not even three times, across all 4 CDs. However, a good product, more suitable for an expert connoisseur of the band than a total novice.

(Review written in order of appearance by Shooting Star, The Green Manalishi, Pibroch, and Roby86)