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Rating: Ian Anderson’s voice, the multi-instrumentalist and leader of the legendary Jethro Tull, is no longer what it used to be, but he still has the strength and courage to give us fans a milestone in progressive folk/prog rock. A great classic with ethnic nuances (something that Ian Anderson himself points out in the booklet, saying that during composition he chose to use Arabic scales, such as, for example, the so-called Byzantine scale, which is simply a regular major scale but with the III and VI degree lowered by a semitone), this album opens with the title track: Roots To Branches: right from the start, you can immediately hear (or rather, sense) that the song is built according to modal harmony. Then comes Rare And Precious Chain, where the use of a musical scale different from the classic Western scales is evident.
Tracklist and Lyrics
01 Roots to Branches (05:11)
Words get written. Words get twisted.
Old meanings move in the drift of time.
Lift the flickering torches. See gentle shadows change
the features of the faces cut in unmoving stone.
Bad mouth on a prayer day, hope no one's listening.
Roots down in the wet clay, branches glistening.
True disciples carrying that message
to colour just a little with their personal touch.
Home-spun fancy weavers and naked half-believers --
Crusades and creeds descend like fiery flakes of snow.
Bad mouth on a prayer day, hope no one's listening.
Roots down in the wet clay, branches glistening.
Roots to branches
Roots to branches
Roots to branches
In wet and windy priest-holes. Grand in vast cathedrals.
High on lofty minarets or in the temples of doom.
I hope the old man's got his face on.
He'd better be some quick change artist.
Suffer little children to make their minds up soon.
Bad mouth on a prayer day, hope no one's listening.
Roots down in the wet clay, branches glistening.
Roots to branches
Roots to branches
Roots to branches
Roots to branches
Roots to branches
Roots to branches
02 Rare and Precious Chain (03:35)
Rare and precious chain --
Do I have to tell you, tell you once again?
Under red lights, on soft nights, it all comes back to you.
Rare and precious chain --
Binds me to your soul round gently pulsing veins.
Shackled tight, feel love's bite coming back to you.
No gold of fools.
No hostage taking.
No engagement rules.
To leave you forsaken.
Tiny beads of sweat --
thin diamond glistening, glistening around your neck,
forgotten rooms, dark catacombs
they all come back to you.
No crock of glittering prizes.
No sharply worded telegram.
No excuses for the word-weary.
No excuses for who I am.
It's a rare and precious chain.
Around your neck I place it, place it once again.
Drawn finger tight, feel love's bite coming back to you.
Under red lights, on soft nights, it all comes back to you.
Rare and precious chain.
04 This Free Will (04:05)
She peeled from a stretch black snake
which slipped up to the hotel door.
Darting looks from piercing eyes --
The stir of memory and then no more.
Well, you know how I have to believe --
She can almost remember my name.
It's been a long time coming, babe --
Long time loose amongst foreign hills --
Shaking my faith in this free will.
Years ago in a coastal town,
mosquitoes buzzed in her hair.
Schooldress torn and bare feet brown --
Then the rains came and she wasn't there.
You're closing your doors on me
when you had almost remembered my name.
It's been a long time coming, babe --
Long time loose amongst foreign hills --
Shaking my faith in this free will.
Sharp points in an ink black sky --
Faint words collide, then are lost.
I'll follow you beneath this dome --
Win you back at any cost.
I know we were children then,
but you can almost remember my name.
It's been a long time coming, babe --
Long time loose amongst foreign hills --
Well, let's be children still --
Don't shake my faith in this free will.
Don't shake my faith in this free will.
06 Dangerous Veils (05:35)
Desert candle in a tented space
throwing softer shadows on a covered face.
Sister, silent to the likes of me --
Pay my respects to her propriety.
Is this some crazy woman here,
dancing behind her thin black veil?
Am I misreading those mysterious eyes?
Duet impossible to harmonize.
I'm not inviting any stiff reaction.
I'm not one for naming holy names.
And I won't peek behind those dangerous veils.
Though you might hate me just the same.
Name of the Father ringing in her head --
Thinking over what the prophet said.
Words and tradition bind her in their spell.
Don't drink the water from this holy well.
I'm not inviting any fierce reaction
and I'm not one for naming holy names.
I won't peek behind those dangerous veils.
Though you might hate me just the same.
Desert candle in a tented space
Softer shadows on a covered face.
Sister, silent to the likes of me --
I tip my hat to her propriety.
I'm not inviting any fierce reaction
and I'm not one for naming holy names.
I won't peek behind those dangerous veils.
Though you might hate me just the same.
07 Beside Myself (05:50)
Small child messing down, messing down.
in the streets of Bombay.
Cities like this have no shame, no shame;
indeed, why should they?
Out in the middle distance, several tragedies are playing.
I'm beside myself.
Big sister, can you hear him, can you hear him?
I'm beside myself.
Big sister, can you see him cry, see him cry?
I'm beside myself.
I saw you taking money in the shadows --
in the shadows by the station there.
I'll wish you up a silver train
to carry you to school, bring you home again.
Strip off that work paint and put a cleaner face on.
I'm beside myself.
Hollow faced mother with her babe in arms,
babe in arms-looks through me.
Behind forgotten charms,
forgotten charms to soothe me.
Between the guilt and charity --
I feel the wimp inside of me.
I'm beside myself.
Out in the middle distance, still more tragedies are playing.
I'm beside myself.
I'm so proud of you --
Swimming up from the deep blue.
Which one of me do you run to?
I'm beside myself.
Small child messing down, messing down.
in the streets of Bombay.
Cities like this have no shame, have no shame;
indeed, why should they?
Out in the middle distance, several tragedies are playing.
I'm beside myself.
09 At Last, Forever (07:55)
So why are you holding my hand tonight?
I'm not intending to go far away.
I'm just slipping through to the back room
I'll leave you messages almost every day.
And who was I to last forever?
I didn't promise to stay the pace.
Not in this lifetime, babe
but we'll cling together:
some kind of heaven written in your face.
So why are you holding my hand tonight?
Well, am I feeling so cold to the touch?
Do my eyes seem to focus
on some distant point?
Why do I find it hard to talk too much?
And who was I to last forever?
I didn't promise to stay the pace.
Not in this lifetime, babe
but we'll cling together:
some kind of heaven written in your face.
So why are you holding my hand tonight?
I'm not intending to go far away.
I'm just slipping through to the back room
I'll leave you messages almost every day.
And who was I to last forever?
I didn't promise to stay the pace.
Not in this lifetime, babe
but we'll cling together:
some kind of heaven written in your face.
10 Stuck in the August Rain (04:06)
Brings jasmine tea on a painted tray
and bends to kiss my frown away.
But I'm still still stuck in the August rain;
stuck out in the cloudburst once again.
The cover's on, the coast is clear.
We're all battened down, only us here.
But I'm still still stuck in the August rain;
stuck out in the cloudburst once again.
She walks between the lines
and she can read my signs.
Stuck out in the August rain:
Out in the cloudburst once again.
Single-minded in my gloom.
I appear to revel in this darkened room.
But I'm still still stuck in the August rain;
stuck out in the cloudburst once again.
She walks between the lines
and she can read my signs.
Stuck out in the August rain:
Out in the cloudburst once again.
11 Another Harry's Bar (06:21)
Wet wind on the sidewalk: I'm staring at the rain. Walking up the street, yeah, and walking down again. And my feet are tired and my brain is numb. See that broken neon sign saying, hey, in you come. Got the scent of stale beer hanging, hanging round my head. Old dog in the corner sleeping like he could be dead. A book of matches and a full ashtray. Cigarette left smoking its life away. Another Harry's bar -- or that's the tale they tell. But Harry's long gone now, and the customers as well. Me and the dog and the ghost of Harry will make this world turn right. It'll all turn right. God's tears on the sidewalk: it's the mother of all rain. But in the thick blue haze of Harry's, you will feel no pain. And you will feel no soft hand slipping on your knee. You don't have to pay for memories, they will all come free. Another Harry's bar -- or that's the tale they tell. But Harry's long gone now, and the customers as well. Me and the dog and the ghost of Harry will make this world turn right. It'll all turn right. Now when Harry was a young man, Harry was so debonair. He walked a bouncy step in his shiny shoes. And when Harry was a young man, well, Harry could walk on air. He mixed a mean cocktail and he talked you through the late news. You want to hear some great news? Harry's still here. Wet wind on the sidewalk: I'm still staring at the rain. Walking up the street, and I'm walking down again. And my feet are tired and my brain is numb. See that broken neon sign saying, hey, in you come. Another Harry's bar -- or that's the tale they tell. But Harry's long gone now, and the customers as well. Me and the dog and the ghost of Harry will make this world turn right. It'll all turn right. Another Harry's bar. And another Harry's bar. And another, and another Harry's bar.
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Other reviews
By Anderson
From the roots in which the magic of Mr. Anderson's art is rooted to the branches soaring high into the ether, spreading that blend of a thousand genres.
The title track, 'Out of the Noise,' and the three recently named songs justify the purchase of 'Roots to Branches' on their own.
