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Rating:
It was the year 1982, the second of the dark '80s, when Jethro Tull, after the previous, rather unattractive, to be honest, released this The Broadsword and The Beast, an album that expanded the parts dedicated to electronics. And now, let's go with the track by track!
"Beastie" starts quietly with dark atmospheres and great emphasis on the electronic keyboards of newly hired Peter John Vettese, then gives way to the electric guitar and continues with the track, which has become a kind of electro hard rock. Strangely, the flute is missing.
The next track, "Fallen", also has a dark and epic start, but much better than the previous one, with a subsequent change of tempo and the entry of other instruments to create a sad and typically Tull song (except for the presence of keyboards). Remarkable is the use of various effects to occasionally modify Anderson's voice. Nice.
"Fallen On Hard Times" is a Tull-style folk; simply beautiful, nothing more to say.
"Flying Colours" seems to start as a very sad track, but the subsequent entry of grand electronic keyboards, drums & guitar (as well as bass) completely disrupts the expectations about the track, transforming it into a good quality hard pop rock (today I'm in the mood for definitions that modify the term "hard rock").
"Slow Marching Band" is an epic track with piano, drums, and voice, at times sugary, but worthy of the group.
The title track once again makes extensive use of keyboards to create a darkly epic atmosphere, maybe composed a bit wearily, as it was for all the other songs, but definitely better than the rest; perhaps the best of the whole album.
"Pussy Willow", "Watching Me, Watching You", and "Seal Driver" are the worst songs on the album (especially the third one), all three extremely uninspired and utterly useless (maybe they were fillers?).
"Cheerio" closes the album very briefly (1:10 minutes, of which only 49 seconds are actual), trying to recall, for brevity, "Grace" and calming the atmosphere with its tranquility.
The Broadsword And The Beast is, in short, not precisely an excellent album, but neither is it poor: once the alienating effect of the massive use of electronics is overcome, it will be pleasant to listen to, despite the three heavy and unworthy stylistic falls mentioned above.
Scaruffi.com delendum est.
Tracklist Lyrics Samples and Videos
01 Beastie (03:58)
From early days of infancy, through trembling years
of youth, long murky middle-age and final hours
long in the tooth, he is the hundred names of terror ---
creature you love the least. Picture his name before
you and exorcise the beast.
He roved up and down through history --- spectre
with tales to tell. In the darkness when the
campfire's dead --- to each his private hell. If you look
behind your shoulder as you feel his eyes to feast, you
can witness now the everchanging nature of the beast.
Beastie
If you wear a warmer sporran, you can keep the foe at
bay. You can pop those pills and visit some
psychiatrist who'll say --- There's nothing I can do
for you, everywhere's a danger zone. I'd love to help
get rid of it, but I've got one of my own.
There's a beast upon my shoulder and a fiend upon
my back. Feel his burning breath a heaving, smoke
oozing from his stack. And he moves beneath the
covers or he lies below the bed. He's the beast upon
your shoulder. He's the price upon your head. He's
the lonely fear of dying, and for some, of living too.
He's your private nightmare pricking. He'd just love
to turn the screw. So stand as one defiant --- yes, and
let your voices swell. Stare that beastie in the face
and really give him hell.
02 Clasp (04:18)
We travellers on the endless wastes in single orbits gliding
Cold-eyed march towards the dawn behind hard-weather hoods-a-hiding
Meeting as the tall ships do, passing in the channel
Afraid to chance a gentle touch - afraid to make the Clasp.
In high-rise city canyons dwells the discontent of ages
On ring roads, nose to bumper crawl commuters in their cages
Criptic signals flash across from pilots in the fast lane
Double-locked and belted in - too late to make the Clasp.
Let's break the journey now on some lonely road
Sit down as strangers will, let the stress unload
Talk in confidential terms, share a dark unspoken fear
Refill the cup and drink it up. Say goodnight and wish good luck.
Synthetic chiefs with frozen smiles holdihg unsteady courses
Grip the reins of History, high on their battle horses
And meeting as good statesmen do before the TV eyes of millions
Hand to hand exchange the lie - pretend to make the Clasp
04 Flying Colours (04:40)
Shout if you will, but that just won't do.
I, for one, would rather follow softer options.
I'll take the easy line; another sip of wine,
and if I ignore the face you wore it's just a way of
mine to keep from flying colours.
Don't lay your bait while the whole world waits
around to see me shoot you down --- It's all so second-rate.
When we can last for days on a loving night;
or for hours at least on a warm whisper given.
You always pick the best time to rise to the fight.
To break the hard bargain that we've driven.
Once again we're flying colours.
I thought we had it out the night before,
and settled old scores, but not the hard way.
Was it a glass too much? Or a smile too few?
Did our friends all catch the needle match --- did we
want them to?
In a fancy restaurant we were all aglow
keeping cool by mutual permission.
How did the conversation get to where we came to blows?
We were set up in a red condition
and again we're flying colours.
Shout --- but you see it still won't do.
With my colours on I can be just as bad as you.
Have I had a glass too much? Did I give a smile too few?
Did our friends all catch the needle match --- did we
want them to?
We act our parts so well, like we wrote the play.
All so predictable and we know it.
We'll settle old scores now, and settle the hard way.
You may not even live to outgrow it!
Once again we're flying colours.
05 Slow Marching Band (03:40)
Would you join a slow marching band?
And take pleasure in your leaving
as the ferry sails and tears are dried
and cows come home at evening.
Could you get behind a slow marching band?
And join together in the passing
of all we shared through yesterdays
in sorrows neverlasting.
Take a hand and take a bow.
You played for me; that's all for now, oh, and never
mind the words just hum along and keep on going.
Walk on slowly --- don't look behind you.
Don't say goodbye, love. I won't remind you.
Dream of me as the nights draw cold
still marking time through Winter.
You paid the piper and called the tune
and you marched the band away.
Take a hand and take a bow.
You played for me; that's all for now, oh, and never
mind the words just hum along and keep on going.
Walk on slowly --- don't look behind you.
Don't say goodbye, love. I won't remind you.
06 Broadsword (05:06)
i see a dark sail on the horizon
set under a blak cloud that hides the sun
bring me my broadsword and clear understanding
bring me my cross of gold as a talisman
get up to the roundhouseon the cliff-top standing
take women and children and bed them down
bring me my broadsword and clear understanding
bring me my cross of gold as a talisman
bless with a hard hearth those who surround me
bless the women and children who firm our hands
put our backs to the north wind, hold fast by the river
sweet memories to drive us on for the motherland
07 Pussy Willow (03:55)
In the half-tone light of a young morning
she sighs and shifts on the pillow.
And across her face dancing, the first shadows fly
to kiss the Pussy Willow.
In her fairy-tale world she's a lost soul singing
in a sad voice nobody hears.
She waits in her castle of make-believe
for her white knight to appear.
Pusy Willow down fur-lined avenue
brushing the sleep from her young woman eyes.
Runs for the train, see: eight o'clock's coming
cutting dreams down to size again.
Pussy Willow down fur-lined avenue,
brushing the sleep from her young woman eyes.
Runs from the train. Hear her typewriter humming,
cutting dreams down to size again.
She longs for the East and a pale dress flowing
an apartment in old Mayfair.
Or to fish the Spey, spinning the first run of Spring
or to die for a cause somewhere.
Pussy Willow down fur-lined avenue,
brushing the sleep from her young woman eyes.
Runs from the train. Hear her typewriter humming,
cutting dreams down to size again.
Pussy Willow, Pussy Willow, Pussy Willow, Pussy Willow.
08 Watching Me Watching You (03:41)
I sit by the cutting on the Beaconsfield line.
He's watching me watching the trains go by.
And they move so fast --- boy, they really fly.
He's still watching me watching you watching the
trains go by.
And the way he stares --- feel like locking my door
and pulling my phone from the wall.
His eyes, like lights from a laser, burn
making my hair stand --- making the goose-bumps crawl.
He's watching me watching you watching him
watching me
I'm watching you watching him watching me
watching Stares.
At the cocktail party with a Bucks Fizz in my hand
I feel him watching me watching the girls go by.
And they move so smooth without even trying.
He's still watching me watching you watching the
trains go by.
And the crowd thins and he moves up close but he doesn't speak.
I have to look the other way.
But curiosity gets the better part of me and I peek:
Got two drinks in his hand --- see his lips move ---
what the hell's he trying to say.
He's watching me watching you watching him
watching me.
I'm watching you watching him watching me
watching Stares.
He's watching me watching you watching him
watching me.
He's watching me watching you watching
the trains go by.
He's watching me watching you watching him
watching me.
He's watching me watching you watching him watching me.
He's watching me watching you watching him watching me watching him watching.
09 Seal Driver (05:11)
Take you away for my magic ship.
I have two hundred deisel horses thundering loud.
Sea birds call your name and the mountain's on fire
as the summer lightening cuts the sky like a hot wire.
And you ride on the swell and your heart is alive,
think I'll make you my seal driver.
I'm no great looker, I'm no fast shakes.
I'll give you a steady push on a six knot simmering
high tide.
I can hold us down --- keep our head to the wind,
or let us roll on the broadside, cold spray flying in,
and we'll ride on the swell and our hearts are alive.
Let me make you my seal driver.
I could captain you if you'd crew for me
follow white flecked spindrift --- float on a moonkissed sea.
Could you fancy me as a pirate bold,
or a longship Viking warrior with the old gods on
his side?
Well I'm an inshore man and I'm nobody's hero,
but I'll make you tight for a windy night and a dark
ride.
Let me take you in hand and bring you alive.
Going to make you my seal driver.
10 Cheerio (01:09)
along the costroad, by the headland
the early lights of winter glow
i'll pour a cup to you my darling
raise it up - say cheerio
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