Dear Friends,
I think I'll do digest or two about the some of the musicians who have influenced me over the years. Just don't ask me who my favorite band is. If you do, I will hug you gently, kiss you on the hair, and tell you that I love all bands equally.
But secretly, I probably do have an all-time favorite band... Jethro Tull.
Stop rolling your eyes and hear me out. Most of Jethro Tull's classic catalog was recorded before I was born, but I discovered them in the mid-90s, when I was just getting into songwriting. And to this day, I am still trying (and failing) to emulate front man Ian Anderson's acoustic guitar technique and instrumental arrangements. The Hard Taco song for August is called "A Proper Send-Off," and while it is not the best example of this, there is certainly a Tull footprint in there. (Just one footprint, mind you, because Anderson only stands on one leg...)
If you've never given much thought to Jethro Tull, here is everything you need to know. The band borrowed their name from an influential 18th century agriculturist and author. Identity theft requires 100% commitment, so the band also stole the original Jethro Tull's writings on agriscience and repurposed them for their album titles, song titles, and lyrics.
Tull has been credited with revolutionizing the landscape of British progressive rock through a relentless touring schedule. They also revolutionized the actual British landscape through a relentless plowing schedule.
Their most popular song, Aqualung, was considered innovative when it was released in 1971 because it had exactly no flute in it. Jethro Tull had finally figured out the formula for commercial success that had eluded all of their prog rock contemporaries... the lack of any flute-playing whatsoever. But in the years that followed, Ian Anderson found himself unable to reproduce that formula, putting out album after album without noticing that he had peppered every song with ear-splitting flute solos.
Album sales dwindled after the 1970s, but Anderson was able to capitalize on their brief success by selling the rights to his life story for a movie adaptation called The Karate Kid.
In the last few decades, Anderson's singing may have deteriorated, but his flute-playing became more expressive. Now in his 70s, Anderson refuses to use his speaking voice during interviews, answering all questions with dynamic arpeggios and breathy trills while bulging his eyes out.
With warmest regards,
Zach
