It’s almost too easy to forget just how monumental Aqualung is. If you’re not sifting through the Jethro Tull discography and dedicating yourself to progressive rock, it’s easy to lose sight of these great songs. Aqualung, the title track that is, is one of those recognisable classics which inches ever closer to being completely overplayed. We have not yet reached that point. Those warbling stories, the lyrical fluidity which has come to die in the hands of Ian Anderson recently is alive and well here. No more shall the flute provide for us. Aqualung holds up exceptionally, and it’s because of the influence of other genres on Anderson at the time. Aqualung doesn’t just pull from established artists of the time but does incredibly well to push on the progressive rock genre with fundamentally enjoyable guitar work that, like all great musical interludes, defines the song. It and these lyrics from Anderson fight a thoroughly enjoyable war for the spotlight.
Cleverness often collapses into a stale rehash of old ideas for Jethro Tull in modern times. But on Aqualung it doesn’t feel fresh because the genre was popular at the time, but because there are some truly inspired instrumental evolutions. Flute work aside, the vocal delivery from Anderson and the confident, upbeat rock and roll style is a tone David Bowie would feature frequently in his work. Those lighter tones do not mean stories told without depth, nor does it mean the floaty feel of the instrumental sections to Mother Goose are any less impactful than the bold, title track. It’s the strings of Wond’ring Aloud which makes all the difference for Aqualung. Plenty of bands were riffing on the progressive rock and psychedelic tinge Pink Floyd established a few years before this release. Few would come close to that quality but Jethro Tull, particularly with Aqualung, does just that.
It’s not about maintaining relevancy in the releases to follow but in finding new routes through the progressive rock structure. Those flute additions are not a defining moment here, rather they complement the rest of the instrumentals. It’s crucial to Up to Me, a nice counter to the darker, welcome tone of My God. An accidental concept album where much of the writing depicts the difference between spirituality and religion. Pair that with some grandiose guitar work and the constant flute feature, and Aqualung becomes a tool to kindling your spirit. Social perspectives take hold too, with the album cover one of the most recognisable in prog-rock history. It doesn’t hide a story, it’s told in the A-side and lost in the B-side, which returns to the roots of Anderson’s interest in the line between spirituality and organised religion, as told by the likes of Hymn 43 and Locomotive Breath.
A sincerely great achievement worthy of its frequent position on best-of lists. Not quite a perfect album, there are a few pieces on the A-side which pale in comparison to what features on the other side, which itself has trouble with its tempo and range of commentaries. Wind-Up feels like a light retread of instrumental stylings which worked on a few songs before it, but that’s not a bad choice. It’s a reminder of the consistencies Jethro Tull could provide, and Aqualung has some excellent moments to it. To call it some captivating masterclass would be an overstatement but what the band does and how much of it works is a real credit to the quality of Anderson as a songwriter and musician. He leads the charge for The Tull well here, and in turn, it leads to some respectable progressive rock that’s easy to return to.
