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Jethro Tull, segni particolari: Ian Anderson.
Già perché l’artefice massimo della carriera di questa band è stato sicuramente il “pifferaio magico” Anderson col suo genio, la sua immensa creatività e, diciamolo pure, a volte la sua pazzia. L’acuto più splendente della lunga storia di questo gruppo è probabilmente l’album del 1971, “Aqualung”, un ottimo esempio di quella musica a cui i Tull ci hanno abituati nel corso degli anni: un Progressive Rock con vigorosi accenni Hard mescolati ad una forte vena Folk dettata anche da un uso massiccio ma mai banale del mitico flauto che ha ricamato e condito con particolare fantasia le varie tracce di questo ed altri loro album.
Prima ancora di inserire il disco nel lettore, si viene subito colpiti da titolo e copertina originalissimi e molto ermetici nel significato. "Aqualung” è il nome di un barbone (inventato dalla mente di Anderson) il quale viene poi raffigurato, appunto, nella copertina e sta ad indicare uno dei temi principali affrontati all’interno dell’album e cioè le condizioni di vita degli strati poveri della società. Altro tema di grande rilevanza, toccato soprattutto nella seconda parte del disco, sarà poi una riflessione articolata, mediante una tagliente e velenosa ironia, sulla chiesa e sulla religione.
Oltre alla grande padronanza del flauto, Anderson sfoggia un’altra peculiarità che gli consente di interpretare al meglio tutti i suoi brani: una voce in grado di adattarsi perfettamente al tema delle canzoni eseguite, passando da toni ruvidi, aspri e aggressivi (come nella title-track o nell’accattivante Cross Eyed Mary) a toni più tranquilli, sereni e pacati (soprattutto in tracce acustiche quali Slipstream o Cheap Day Return) sempre con grande professionalità ed efficacia.
Non mi dilungherei molto sulla scaletta dell’album salvo dire che si presenta molto variegata alternando momenti tumultuosi (Up To Me, Hymn 43 o Locomotive Breath) a parti più introspettive e raffinate (Mother Goose o Wondr’ing Aloud).
Mi riservo invece di fare una menzione speciale per la canzone, a mio avviso, simbolo di “Aqualung”: sto parlando di “My God”. Che dire? Certamente un capolavoro reso tale dalla sua struttura: riecheggiano da lontano accordi di chitarra, che diventano sempre più intensi, più sostenuti. Ad essi si aggiunge un greve pianoforte che accompagna la graffiante voce pronta per la sua invettiva anticlericale. Poteva mancare il Flauto? No di certo, Anderson infatti ci delizia con un assolo meraviglioso che sfocia in cori epici e grandiosi trainando la canzone verso il punto più alto e poi ancora giù e si ritorna alla melodia della prima parte. Ogni altra parola sminuisce la maestosità di questo brano. Ascoltatelo e basta!!!
Elenco tracce testi samples e video
01 Aqualung (06:37)
Sitting on a park bench
eyeing little girls with bad intent.
Snot running down his nose
greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes.
Hey, Aqualung!
Drying in the cold sun
Watching as the frilly panties run.
Hey Aqualung!
Feeling like a dead duck
spitting out pieces of his broken luck.
Whoa, Aqualung!
Sun streaking cold
an old man wandering lonely.
Taking time
the only way he knows.
Neck hurting bad,
as he bends to pick a dog-end
he goes down to the bog
and warms his feet.
Feeling alone
the army's up the road
salvation à la mode and
a cup of tea.
Aqualung my friend
don't you start away uneasy
you poor old sod, you see, it's only me.
Do you still remember
December's foggy freeze
when the ice that
clings onto your beard was
screaming agony.
And you snatch your rattling last breaths
with deep-sea-diver sounds,
and the flowers bloom like
madness in the spring.
Sun streaking cold
an old man wandering lonely.
Taking time
the only way he knows.
Neck hurting bad,
as he bends to pick a dog-end
he goes down to the bog
and warms his feet.
Feeling alone
the army's up the road
salvation à la mode and
a cup of tea.
Aqualung my friend
don't you start away uneasy
you poor old sod, you see, it's only me.
[Guitar Solo]
Aqualung my friend
don't you start away uneasy
you poor old sod, you see, it's only me.
Sitting on a park bench
eyeing little girls with bad intent.
Snot running down his nose
greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes.
Hey Aqualung!
Drying in the cold sun
Watching as the frilly panties run.
Hey, Aqualung!
Feeling like a dead duck
spitting out pieces of his broken luck.
Hey, Aqualung!
Whoa, Aqualung!
02 Cross-Eyed Mary (04:09)
Who would be a poor man, a beggarman, a thief --
If he had a rich man in his hand.
And who would steal the candy
From a laughing baby's mouth
If he could take it from the money man.
Cross-eyed Mary goes jumping in again.
She signs no contract
But she always plays the game.
Dines in Hampstead village
On expense accounted gruel,
And the jack-knife barber drops her off at school.
Laughing in the playground -- gets no kicks from little boys:
Would rather make it with a letching grey.
Or maybe her attention is drawn by Aqualung,
Who watches through the railings as they play.
Cross-eyed Mary finds it hard to get along.
She's a poor man's rich girl
And she'll do it for a song.
She's a rich man stealer
But her favour's good and strong:
She's the Robin Hood of Highgate --
Helps the poor man get along.
04 Mother Goose (03:53)
As I did walk by Hampstead Fair,
I came upon Mother Goose,
So I turned her loose--
She was screaming.
And a foreign student said to me
Was it really true
There are elephants, lions too,
Piccadilly Circus?
Walked down by the bathing pond
To try and catch some sun.
Saw at least a hundred school girls
Sobbing into handkerchiefs as one.
I don't believe they knew
I was a schoolboy.
And a bearded lady said to me
If you start your raving
And your misbehaving,
You'll be sorry.
And the chicken fancier came to play
With his long red beard,
And his sister's weird--
She drives a lorry.
Laughed down by the putting green,
I popped 'em in their holes.
Four and twenty labourers were labouring
And digging up their gold.
I don't believe they knew
That I was Long John Silver.
Saw Johnny Scarecrow make his rounds
In his jet black mac
Which he won't give back--
Stole it from a snowman.
As I did walk by Hampstead Fair,
I came upon Mother Goose,
So I turned her loose--
She was screaming.
Walked down by the bathing pond
To try and catch some sun.
Must have been least a hundred school girls
Sobbing into handkerchiefs as one.
I don't believe they knew
I was a schoolboy.
05 Wond'ring Aloud (01:55)
Wond'ring aloud --
How we feel today.
Last night sipped the sunset --
My hands in her hair.
We are our own saviours
As we start both our hearts beating life
Into each other.
Wond'ring aloud --
Will the years treat us well.
As she floats in the kitchen,
I'm tasting the smell
Of toast as the butter runs.
Then she comes, spilling crumbs on the bed
And I shake my head.
And it's only the giving
That makes you what you are.
07 My God (07:12)
People what have you done?
Locked Him in His golden cage
Golden cage
Made Him bend to your religion
Him resurrected from the grave
From the grave
He is the God of nothing
If thats all that you can see
You are the God of everything
Hes inside you and me
So lean upon Him gently
And don't call on Him to save
You from your social graces
And the sins you used to waive
The bloody Church of England
in chains of history
Requests your earthly presence
at the vicarage for tea
And the graven image
You know who
With his plastic crucifix
He's got Him fixed
Confuses me as to who and where and why
as to how he gets his kicks
He gets his kicks.
Confessing to the endless sin
With endless whining sounds
You'll be praying 'til next Thursday
To all the gods that you can count
08 Hymn 43 (03:19)
Our Father high in heaven smile down upon your son
who is busy with his money games - his women and his gun
Oh Jesus save me
And the unsung western hero he killed an Indian or three
And then he made his name in Hollywood to set the white man free
Oh Jesus save me
If Jesus saves well he better save himself
From the gory glory seekers who use his name in death
Oh Jesus save me
Well I saw him in the city and on the mountains of the moon
His cross was rather bloody he could hardly roll his stone
Oh Jesus save me
09 Slipstream (01:13)
Well the lush separation unfolds you --
And the products of wealth
Push you along on the bow wave
Of the spiritless undying selves.
And you press on God's waiter your last dime --
As he hands you the bill.
And you spin in the slipstream --
Timeless -- unreasoning --
Paddle right out of the mess.
10 Locomotive Breath (04:26)
In the Shuffling madness
Of the locomotive breath,
Runs the all time loser,
Headlong to his death.
He feels the piston scraping
Steam breaking on his brow
Old Charlie stole the handle
And the train it won't stop going
No way to slow down.
He sees his children jumping off
At stations one by one.
His woman and his best friend
In bed and having fun.
Crawling down the corridor
On his hands and knees
Old Charlie stole the handle
And the train it won't stop going
No way to slow down.
He hears the silence howling
Catches angels as they fall.
And the all time winner
Has got him by the balls.
He picks up Gideons Bible
Open at page one
I think God, he stole the handle
And the train it won't stop going
No way to slow down.
Carico i commenti... con calma
Altre recensioni
Di Stràfiko Piezzecore
La titletrack apre l’album con un riff che è Storia, l’unico in grado di procurarmi una piena erezione oltre a quelli di “fuma sul cesso” di Ian Cazzoduro Gillian e “smells” del Kurt Douglas.
Perché i nostri affezionatissimi mostrano tutti i limiti della Chiesa, con la sua ipocrisia e strumentalizzazione.
Di alaindelon
Perché lui, col suo piccolo flauto, seminò e semina tuttora ben più discorsi di quanto avrebbe potuto fare anche se si fosse messo a gridare per tutta la vita.
Aqualung è un album commovente e profondo che richiede un grande numero di ascolti per essere apprezzato in tutta la sua grandezza.
Di STIPE
Uno dei momenti più alti e intensi della storia del rock.
Una pietra miliare nella storia del rock certificando la leggenda dell'uomo che suonava il flauto su una gamba sola.
Di pier_paolo_farina
Un disco che è per metà rivolto all’aspra critica di quelle chiese intense a infinocchiar l’anime pie.
Neanche riposto il disco tornai nel letto vera pelle, laddove la sposa era ben desta e quindi uscimmo a riveder le stelle.
