Proving themselves to be exceptional at fusing rock and jazz fundamentals, Jethro Tull takes a considerably slower tone on Benefit. It suits them brilliantly as a precursor to the rage swirling on Aqualung and follow-up album, Thick as a Brick. What Benefit marks is an early example of the band finding their flute-led sound. Not quite as prevalent in the early moments of the album, but that steel pipe Ian Anderson has turned into a crutch on their latest releases is, certainly, here. What features too is what listeners may love about the earliest works of the band, that surprise understanding and skill for the more conventional rock sound. Jethro Tull stands out better with Anderson blowing his flute, though his vocal work here stands tall here, a little more observational and moulded by the older England than his peers. It all pans out well on Benefit, a floaty and often interesting piece of work from a band just a short way from their high point.
Bold opening track With You There to Help Me is a fantastic example of what the band can do with that flute feature. Occasionally heard in the background of what is still a very strong rock and roll track, Jethro Tull sounds a little more comfortable and confident in its utilisation. It makes for a swaying style to the instrumentals, but that much doesn’t hinder the harsher tone, nor does it blunt the edge of the song’s meaning. Effective handclapping and an instrumental rise towards the end of the song is license for the guitar work to cut loose. But it’s subversion Jethro Tull manages best of all. Space which would usually be made for just the electric guitar is instead in a brilliant back-and-forth with that flute. Of course there are opportunities for the rest of Jethro Tull to showcase their flair for instrumental sensibilities, as is the case for Nothing to Say. But the irony of the title overwhelms the song, a brilliant focus on what the band would, in fact, comment on.
Flourishing blues rock pieces can be heard too, with Alive and Well and Living In a particular highlight for that. Piano-led charms which filter in what would become the fundamental style Jethro Tull has. It’s as if the instruments are speaking to one another, plotting where to head next, keeping one step ahead of the listener. It works wonderfully on Benefit. B-side bliss holds Benefit up well, though the instrumentals can often feel impressive and as though they’re stealing the spotlight away from what settles in as remarkable songwriting. Finding that balance wouldn’t take the band all that long, and they would fare better on follow-up album, Aqualung. To Cry You a Song is solid work, but pales compared to the rest of the Benefit B-side. Solid work is enough to carry these lighter moments, with Inside an understated but promising song. It’s the little flickers of interest that keeps Benefit together.
Chaos occurs on Play in Time, and it sounds fantastic. Jethro Tull manage the mania which they can make in the studio, the crash of instrumental suggestions and inferences here is an overwhelming high for Benefit. It’s not that the band are running out of steam or struggling, far from it, but they do sound as though the end of the hard rock and blues-y style is at its end. Jethro Tull do well to course correct from here, accepting they had taken this style of creating to its limit, but what a limit they reach. Benefit has some exceptional moments to it which linger on the mind when listening to Aqualung. Thematic suggestions for the peak of their career angered Anderson, and rightly so to some degree. They were creating commentaries on similar subjects with Benefit, and there is little argument over the scope of the record. It’s a solid piece, but it does start running out of steam.
