Norse mythology is ample ground for Jethro Tull to pick on. Like history-obsessed vultures, Ian Anderson and the band bring progressive rock tones to those who cannot get enough of the Tull. Previous single and title track of their upcoming album, Curious Ruminant, offered little of a different style. Consistent, progressive rock tones with little innovation but plenty to love for those longstanding fans. The Tipu House is a vague improvement on the ambitions heard on the previous album RökFlöte, though it is still a tad lifeless. Upbeat and certainly one to keep returning to for those wanting a modern Tull track with weighty appeal behind it. The Tipu House has it. A comment not on the world around us, but the Norse and medieval image, which just so happens to reflect the horrors of the modern day.
Upbeat starts and the Anderson-led instrumental effort is a brief delight. There is little value in returning to it, but the commentaries found within are worthwhile. They are a league above Curious Ruminant and the say-what-you-see style of mentioning great artists. At least Tull has evolved their lyrical choices with this release. The Tipu House finds plenty to be enraged by and with the catchy instrumental, it is far easier for Anderson to feed those commentaries into place. His love of a loving land, a desire to see the greenery return, to replace the toxic city garden he continually returns to on The Tipu House, is tremendous. The Tipu House tries its best to stop Anderson from rushing the “it was better in my day,” attitude. Whether it was or was not, The Tipu House does not have enough detail to prove or disprove what Anderson says. An idyllic society is what the song provides and beyond the repetition, Jethro Tull has a solid song on their hands.
Philosopher name drops and lyrical inconsistencies from Anderson, though, are the real rot for The Tipu House. Compound instrumentals where brass and wind collide are welcome, exciting on those first few listens, but fall to pieces when the lyrics begin taking centre stage. Jung and Freud are dropped in there for no real reason, no necessity for them as cornerstones. It is much the same problem as Curious Ruminant, though thankfully more reserved in its strange desire to name drop figures from history. The Tipu House is facing off against the big questions in life and, instead of an answer, Anderson suggests where we should go for them. It is the shortcoming which affected RökFlöte and so too it appears again. He may not have the answer, and that is far. The honest choice would be to explore why. Not offer Freud, again, as a reference point.
Repetition like that serves nobody but the Penguin Vintage Classics selection. The Tipu House has a wild and liberated instrumental appearance, some of the very best Jethro Tull has offered so far this decade, but its decadent lyrics are mediocre. Ambitious, sure. Those references to a toxic garden are image heavy and serve the song, and crucially the listener, well. But there is a lacklustre effort surrounding, a fundamentally dull experience where the shortcomings of Anderson’s wordplay are highlighted in gruesome detail. The Tipu House is another solid offering, a song which will no doubt please dedicated fans of Jethro Tull, but its lyrical crash out is a real blow.
