In 2013, three decades after Jethro Tull mastermind Ian Anderson released his first solo album, Walk Into Light, he was assembling what would become his sixth outing, Homo Erraticus. That year he offered Prog a rundown of how he’d created the material released beyond the confines of the great band.
Walk Into Light (1983)
Anderson worked closely with then-Tull keyboard player Peter-John Vettese on his first solo release – though Tull’s A had been originally mooted as such in 1980, Chrysalis urged the use of the band name to boost sales.
“I suppose the first thing here was to embrace the changing world of technology in the early 80s,” he muses. “Sequencers and samplers and computers became a real prospect in music as a songwriting and performing tool. So, rather than just ignore it, I thought I’d better try to get to grips with it, because it probably will be the face of change. And, of course, it was – just as Fender and Gibson guitars and the Hammond organ changed the face of music in the 50s and 60s.
“And I thought I’d better do it outside the orbit of Jethro Tull, rather than set out with a band identity, which people might not like if the little experiment didn’t work out. The context of a solo album made more sense.”
Shrewdly, the album didn’t jettison all recognisable Tull tropes, marrying electronica and folk-rock stylings with flair and customarily darkly witty lyrics. The band’s Under Wraps followed its form and, to put it mildly, divided fans.
Divinities: Twelve Dances With God (1995)
This ambient, instrumental album is strong on melody and influenced by a range of ethnic traditions. As such it’s the type of record often consigned to the world music section of the record shop, and lazily lumped in with the then-voguish genre ‘new age.’
The music ranges from the African styles of En Afrique to Spanish touches of In The Pay Of Spain, and is perhaps at its most credible when close to Celtic roots, as on In The Grip Of Stronger Stuff. Tull’s Andrew Giddings provide keyboard arrangements that complement Anderson’s primary instrument well.
“That was made for EMI’s classical music division,” he recalls, “and was effectively a flute album, exploring the instrument.” Reviews have praised the way in which it avoids the pitfalls of the ‘rock star turns musical tourist’ routine, displaying real imagination in its changes in tempo and technique, and its genuine sense of atmosphere.
The Secret Language Of Birds (2000)
A playful album named for the dawn chorus, Anderson explored the acoustic side of his musical personality “because that had been a big unheralded part of Jethro Tull.” Martin Barre chipped in with electric guitar, while Anderson sang and played flute, piccolo, acoustic guitar, bouzouki, mandolin, acoustic bass and percussion.
In his droll explanatory sleeve notes, he mentioned the painters Walter Langley and Sir William Russell Flint. He described Circular Breathing as “the deep breath that goes on forever... Pink Floyd’s Learning To Fly meets LS Lowry meets Status Quo’s Pictures Of Matchstick Men. Or not.”
Tracks started as just me singing and playing live in the studio, from the Aqualung album onwards
Boris Dancing revealed a peculiar affection for Russia’s Mr Yeltsin. “I wrote the music based on a visual image from a CNN news report.... He was filmed in Red Square, sweating profusely, bright red in the face, boogieing frantically in front of a young Moscow rock band.
“The song is in several rather-difficult-to-follow time signatures, as when Boris was dancing he wasn’t quite on the beat. It’s a celebration of his strange, individual dance style.”
Rupi’s Dance (2003)
“Around the turn of the millennium,” Anderson recalls, “I’d decided I’d like to make a couple of albums in this acoustic, singer-songwriter context. The brand name Jethro Tull suggested something more ‘rock’ and band-oriented, so this was an opportunity to stretch out from that.
“Often, tracks had started as just me singing and playing live in the studio, from the Aqualung album onwards. So from The Secret Language Of Birds on, I was increasingly doing things as Ian Anderson.”
Rupi’s Dance was ‘progressive folk,’ which was not utterly unrecognisable from Tull; occasionally the album recalled Minstrel In The Gallery or Heavy Horses. The ‘world music’ elements that characterised his previous outings were used sparingly and tastefully. Griminelli’s Lament honoured the Italian flautist Andrea Griminelli, while the title track took inspiration from Anderson’s beloved cat.
Emerging just before The Jethro Tull Christmas Album, the closing track here – Birthday Card At Christmas – also opened that album. Fans began to hail Anderson’s reinvigoration and new lease of life.
Thick As A Brick 2 (2012)
Four decades on from the thrilling Thick As A Brick came the justly-acclaimed sequel, subtitled Whatever Happened To Gerald Bostock? “I wonder what the eight-year-old Gerald would be doing today,” Anderson pondered. “Would the fabled newspaper still exist?”
So he traced five possible life routes for the now middle-aged Bostock – avaricious banker, homeless man, soldier, preacher and ‘ordinary’ corner-shop owner. A lonely gloom potentially awaited all five personae; but that didn’t prevent Anderson gaining his first Top 40 album in quite a while.
“I suppose it was something of a calculated risk,” he says. “It leaves people with a slightly enigmatic rather than despairing feeling, I’d say. There’s a note of optimism and defiance conveyed in the final elements of the music. I can only judge by the approval we seem to get for it when we play it.
“I’m glad I took the risk, and I’m glad we have the kind of audiences that not only accept that but revel in it. As you become older and more reflective, there’s such a wealth of material to work with: nearly every morning I’m tinkering around with some idea or other.”
Homo Erraticus (2014)
“There’s a new album on the way; something I’ve already written,” Anderson reveals. “I gave myself three weeks to come up with it – obviously not to complete it, but to substantially write the lyrics, the tunes and the general shape of a whole new album. It was a good thing to do.
“Then I made simple demos of all the material and sent them out to the guys in the band… and we have all promptly put them under the pillow and forgotten them! But we’ll re-examine them and prepare for the serious recording.”
I reserve the right to scrap the whole thing and start again, which I’m known for doing!
Describing the material as “folk prog metal,” he hints: “It’s an album which explores certain aspects of humanity across a huge period of time, from around the Ice Age to the future, and clearly reflects what’s going on in the world today. It’s a series of snapshots about... us.
“I do like drawing parallels between the events of the past and the present, as well as thinking how they’re going to resolve themselves up ahead. It’s not all doom and gloom, but it does touch on subjects of a worrying nature.
“There’s little point in me talking too much about it, as I reserve the right to scrap the whole thing and start again, which I’m known for doing! While I do have an album that I’m excited about, I may fail to turn up for work on the day, or turn up with something completely different!”
