Published on Jul 27, 2004
In many ways,
Crest Of A Knave, the 1987 “comeback” album by British
rockers Jethro Tull, has been vilified, mostly because of its
controversial win at the Grammys as Best Hard Rock/Heavy Metal
performance.
Of course, anyone with half a brain (which apparently isn’t a
requirement to be a voter for the Grammys) knows that Jethro Tull
is neither hard rock nor heavy metal. In fact, after listening to
Ian Anderson and crew now for nearly two decades, I know it’s
impossible to pigeonhole the band into any specific category. Are
there some rocking moments on this disc? Yes — but there are
numerous introspective songs that balance things out. In the end,
the disc comes off as tentative — maybe even a little too
tentative.
Right off the bat, we need to cut the group some slack. Jethro
Tull had been searching for their voice for most of the ’80s,
thanks to the surge in popularity of synthesizer-based rock in the
early half of the decade. Tull tried their hand at this, with
minimal success — in turn, they all but turned their back on their
guitar-driven roots, which was an ill-advised move. In addition,
Anderson had to undergo throat surgery in the mid-’80s, which
changed his vocal sound a bit. It’s a little weird hearing Anderson
in this shape, but one quickly warms to his adjusted tones.
There still is enough electronica on
Crest Of A Knave to suggest that Tull had finally worked
through the feeling-out phase and had found the right balance
between it and a more organic sound. The opening track “Steel
Monkey,” while not the greatest song Tull had come up with in their
20 years of existence to that point, is still a respectable effort,
and is one of the more memorable songs on the disc.
Likewise, “Jump Start” is a return to form for the group, and it
is thrilling to hear Martin Barre’s guitar work again brought to
the forefront. Quite possibly the hardest rocking song that Tull
had recorded in over a decade, Barre makes the most of his time in
the limelight, showing why he is probably one of the most
underrated lead guitarists of his time.
The bulk of
Crest Of A Knave, while listenable and somewhat enjoyable,
does tend to wear the listener down a bit. Maybe it’s the 10-minute
epic “Budapest” which just doesn’t seem to go anywhere. Maybe it’s
the lack of real venom in “Farm On The Freeway,” otherwise a very
good song. Maybe it’s the listlessness of other tracks like “Dogs
In The Midwinter.” By the time the listener reaches the end of the
disc, songs like “The Waking Edge” and “Raising Steam” (the latter
having more than slight similarities to “Steel Monkey”) come as a
relief.
It would be fair to say that
Crest Of A Knave was the strongest album Jethro Tull had
recorded since
A (and I realize I’m opening up a can of worms with that
statement), but it would also be fair to say that Jethro Tull still
was a group from the past trying to figure a way to survive in the
present. This is, by no means, a bad album, and does deserve more
attention than glancing at it for its controversial history. But
while the disc has some great moments, it wasn’t quite yet a return
to the group’s halcyon days.