Published on Jul 30, 2004
So just how long
has Jethro Tull been searching for their place in the music
industry? In a sense, one could argue that Ian Anderson and company
have been on that never-ending road a la
Travels With Charley since their debut release in 1968. Tull
has constantly re-worked its sound to meet their own criteria, not
simply to be pigeonholed into a specific musical genre.
Yet Anderson and crew had found themselves stylistically
rudderless since around 1982’s
Broadsword And The Beast, and a musical environment as
stable as nuclear waste wasn’t helping their case much. So, on
1991’s
Catfish Rising, it’s not surprising to hear Jethro Tull fall
back onto two styles they knew rather well — edgy rock and
introspective acoustic numbers. While it was a marked improvement
over their last studio effort
Rock Island, it still suggested that Jethro Tull was getting
tired.
To be sure, there are some numbers on this disc which should
please longtime Tull fans (of which I consider myself to be one),
but there’s no way that Anderson and his ever-revolving band of
minstrels (save for guitarist Martin Barre) were going to revisit
Aqualung for the umpteenth time. Tracks like “This Is Not
Love,” “Thinking Round Corners” and “Doctor To My Disease” all
suggested that Jethro Tull could finally be back on the right road.
In terms of rockers, these tracks are some of Tull’s best work in a
long time (not to slight numbers like “Steel Monkey” off
Crest Of A Knave). When it’s time to turn the volume down a
notch, the more acoustic-based tracks like “Roll Yer Own,” “Rocks
On The Road” and “Still Loving You Tonight” all shine. In fact, for
the first half of this album, only “Occasional Demons” falls under
the category of weak effort.
Yet
Catfish Rising is not able to maintain that level of
success; the second half of the disc collapses under its own
weight. Musical ideas are repeated so often in songs such as on
“Like A Tall Thin Girl” and “Sleeping With The Dog” that the
listener has to wonder whether these tracks were thrown on to pad
the disc. Where the first half of this album generates the most
excitement for Tull in a long time, the second half quickly sounds
tired and trite, almost as if Anderson was content to throw
together random thoughts he had and tied them up by repeating the
song’s title several dozen times. As for “Sleeping With The Dog” –
one has to wonder just what Anderson was thinking, creating one of
the worst tracks Tull has ever cut.
The breaking moment for this disc, though, comes on the track
“White Innocence,” a song which maybe could have been something
pretty had it been about four minutes shorter (and if Anderson
didn’t keep repeating “white innocence” like a mantra — dude,
enough is enough). This particular track runs out of fresh ideas
rather quickly, and ends up sounding like the band kept playing it
for lack of anything better to do. Tull once was known for being
able to write long songs without having them sound stale right out
of the gate. Maybe someone needs to send Anderson a copy of
Thick As A Brick to remind him of what he was once capable
of.
Make no mistake, there are moments on
Catfish Rising that will have you grinning from ear to ear,
and it is a step in the right direction for the band. If only that
step weren’t so tentative.