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Jethro Tull: A Passion Play

 A l b u m   D e t a i l s


Label: Chrysalis Records
Released: 1973.07.10
Time:
 45:07
Category: Progressive Rock
Producer(s): Ian Anderson
Rating:
Media type: CD
Web address: www.j-tull.com
Appears with: Ian Anderson, Martin Barre
Purchase date: 1992.05.12
Price in €: 10,99





 S o n g s ,   T r a c k s


[1] A Passion Play [Part 1] (I.Anderson) - 23:04
      Lifebeats - 1:14
      Prelude - 2:14
      The Silver Cord - 4:29
      Re-Assuring Tune - 1:11
      Memory Bank - 4:20
      Best Friends - 1:58
      Critique Oblique - 4:38
      Forest Dance #1 - 1:35
[2] The Story Of The Hare Who Lost His Spectacles (J.Hammond-Hammond/J.Evan/I.Anderson) / A Passion Play [Part 2] (I.Anderson) - 22:00
      Forest Dance #2 - 1:12
      The Foot Of Our Stairs - 4:18
      Overseer Overture - 4:00
      Flight From Lucifer - 3:58
      10.08 To Paddington - 1:04
      Magus Perdé - 3:55
      Epilogue - 0:43

 A r t i s t s ,   P e r s o n n e l


IAN ANDERSON - Lead Vocals, Acoustic Guitar, Flute, Soprano Saxophone, Producer, Arrangement
MARTIN BARRE - Electric Guitar, Producer, Arrangement
JOHN EVAN - Piano, Organ, Synthesizer, Speech, Producer, Arrangement
JEFFREY HAMMOND-HAMMOND - Bass Guitar, Vocals, Producer, Arrangement
BARRIEMORE BARLOW - Drums, Timpani, Glockenspiel, Marimba, Timbales, Producer, Arrangement

DAVID PALMER - Conductor, Orchestral Arrangements

ROBIN BLACK - Engineer
BRIAN WARD - Cover Photo
CCS - Design

 C o m m e n t s ,   N o t e s


1973 LP Chrysalis 1040
1990 CS Chrysalis 21040
1990 CD Chrysalis 21040
1991 CS Alliance 21040
1991 CD Alliance 21040
1995 CS Chrysalis F4-21040
1995 CD Chrysalis F2-21040
1998 CD Mobile Fidelity 720



Released July ’73. This album started out as a collection of individual songs recorded by the band’s fifth line-up. Work was proceeding on enough tracks to fill three sides of a double album when technical problems in the studio caused all but four tracks to be scrapped.
‘Skating Away On The Thin Ice Of A New Day’ showed up two years later on ‘War Child’ The other three were performed live throughout early 1973, and included on 1988’s ’20 years Of Jethro Tull’ box set. The group quickly wrote the several movements that made up this 45 minute opus. On the surface, the album lyrically dealt with life after death although Anderson’s lyrics were becoming very ambiguous.
‘A Passion Play’ became Tull’s last album to reach No.1 in the US charts. In the UK it made No.13 in the top 20.

J-Tull.com



Having previously challenged their audience with the lengthy opus Thick as a Brick, Jethro Tull went back to the concept-album for the even more difficult A Passion Play. The sometimes impenetrable work is part biblical allegory, part postmodern epic poem, and part psychedelic fairy tale. Such were the machinations of 1970s prog rock. The music mixes rock, English folk, and neoclassical material, an amalgamation that somehow hangs together. Reviled by critics when it was first released, A Passion Play has been redeemed over time thanks to the devotion of Tull fans, for whom it has always been an essential work.

Daniel Durchholz - Amazon.com essential recording



A Passion Play is the artsiest artifact yet to issue from the maddeningly eccentric mind of Ian Anderson. Conceived for live performance as much as for disk, its ultimate presentation incorporates a short film, written, directed and edited by Anderson, in addition to the madcap hysteria of the stage show. Having not seen the play, I can only comment on the disk, which is a pop potpourri of Paradise Lost and Winnie The Pooh, among many other literary resources, not to mention a vast array of musical ideas derivative of influences as far-flung as Purcell, flamenco and modern jazz.

Viewed as a recorded oratorio, or as a prolonged "single," or as any in-between hybrid, A Passion Play strangles under the tonnage of its pretensions—a jumble of anarchic, childishly precocious gestures that are intellectually and emotionally faithless to any idea other than their own esoteric non-logic.

Like Thick As a Brick, the aesthetic of A Passion Play is desperate zaniness, but here it is carried to even further extremes. The scenario roughly parallels the Passion of Christ. This parallel is not made half as clear in the play's gibberish, pun-laden verses and double-entendres (e.g., the playing back and forth between "be" and "bee," and in phrases like "Man/son of man") as in the album's cutesy playbill-within-record-jacket, perused in relation to its presumptuous title. If one undertakes the thankless task of unraveling the text as it coincides with the playbill, the sequence of events takes the following vague outline. Ronnie Pilgrim, a supercilious atheist, describes his own funeral, then goes through purgatory, part of which is a movie rerun of his life. He is teased by the saints who say: "Or/are we here/for the glory/for the story for the gory satisfaction of telling you how absolutely awful you really are," and then both narrates and is imaginative participant in a shaggy-dog fable, recited to film, called "The Story of the Hare Who Lost His Spectacles," which (accompanied by the album's most ponderous "incidental" music) is meant to sum up the mundanely single vision of his whole life.

There ensues a descent into hell ("a business office," according to the program), in which Anderson takes, among other roles, that of Satan, followed by a resurrection into the drawing room of a Magus Perde. I leave it for the devout Tull freak to argue the details, the myriad subtleties, contradictions and paradoxes of this banal putdown, since, to my mind, neither the text nor the music seems to justify further analysis. Except for the addition of the "Hare-Spectacles" narration, the structure of A Passion Play is as free-form as that of Thick As a Brick. In tone, it is the ultimate exaggeration of self-indulgent English whimsy, an intellectual tease inflated with portent but devoid of wonder—in its cumulative expression mean and trivial.

The only positive aspect of the album is the performance of the music itself. The Jethro Tull band (same alignment as in Brick) is truly virtuosic in the manner of a polished chamber ensemble. The high points are those interludes that feature Anderson's extraordinary flute playing, some of it seemingly multi-tracked. Two short pastoral sections that precede and follow the abominable "pooh perplex" are especially lovely. The overall impact of this music, however, is very slight. Not a single leitmotif sticks in the mind. What blues figurations there are are constipated and redundant. As a whole, the score is far less substantial than Thick As a Brick, itself a suffocatingly fey concoction. Finally, one leaves A Passion Play with the feeling of having been subjected to 45 minutes of vapid twittering and futzing about, all play and no passion—expensive, tedious nonsense.

STEPHEN HOLDEN - RS 142
© Copyright 2001 RollingStone.com



Querkopf Ian Anderson und seine Begleitmannschaft hatten für ihr 72er, nur aus einem einzigen Song bestehendes Konzeptalbum Thick As A Brick trotz des beachtlichen kommerziellen Erfolgs harsche Kritik einstecken müssen. Zu kopflastig und wirr klänge die LP, warf man Jethro Tull vor, doch anstatt sich wieder ins gängige Drei-Minuten-Song-Schema zu fügen, legten die Briten danach erst richtig los. A Passion Play, das noch im selben Jahr erschien, besteht ebenfalls nur aus einem Track und kommt in puncto Texte so dermaßen schräg daher, dass wahrscheinlich nur Ian Anderson selbst weiß, was er da eigentlich singt. Die Musik ist allerdings mal wieder vom Allerfeinsten und überschreitet sämtliche Grenzen der Mainstream-Komponierkunst. Elemente aus Progrock, Blues, Klassik, Musical und britischer Folklore werden zu einem völlig einzigartigen Sound vermengt, der heute noch genauso originell und frisch klingt wie zur Zeit seiner Erschaffung.

Michael Rensen - Amazon.de



"A Passion Play" von Jethro Tull war '73 ein prätentiöses Konzeptalbum, dem das eingängige Songmaterial früherer Tull-Alben abging; heute trotz Remaster-Kur schwer verdaulich.

© Audio



"Passion Play" war immer der ungeliebte Nachfolger des '72er Über-Albums "Thick As A Brick". Tull-Mastermind Ian Anderson hatte wieder eine große Rock-Suite komponiert (inmitten die "Geschichte vom Hasen, der seine Brille verlor"), sich aber vergaloppiert. Zu ambitioniert die mit komplexen Rhythmus- und Harmonie-Wechseln überfrachteten Einzelteile, zu strapaziös die schwer verdauliche Lyrik. Heute freut man sich am schönen Artwork der MFSL-Gold-Wiederveröffentlichung. Zumal die wärmer und knackiger klingt als die schwache Silber-Version.

© Stereoplay



Jethro Tull's second album-length composition, A Passion Play is very different from -- and not quite as successful as -- Thick as a Brick. Ian Anderson utilizes reams of biblical (and biblical-sounding) references, interwoven with modern language, as a sort of rock equivalent to T.S. Eliot's The Wasteland. As with most progressive rock, the words seem important and profound, but their meaning is anyone's guess ("The ice-cream lady wet her drawers, to see you in the Passion Play..."), with Anderson as a dour but engaging singer/sage (who, at least at one point, seems to take on the role of a fallen angel). It helps to be aware of the framing story, about a newly deceased man called to review his life at the portals of heaven, who realizes that life on Earth is preferable to eternity in paradise. But the music puts it over successfully, a dazzling mix of old English folk and classical material, reshaped in electric rock terms. The band is at its peak form, sustaining the tension and anticipation of this album-length piece across 45 minutes, although the music runs out of inspiration about five minutes before it actually ends. The sound on the CD is significantly brighter than the LP, bringing out the full impact of the electric instruments once the piece takes off, but also imparting more presence to the acoustic instruments (such as Anderson's guitar over the line "God of ages/Lord of time" and the sax part that follows). The only serious complaint about the compact disc is that it isn't indexed to separate the two halves of A Passion Play from the A.A. Milne-style interlude "The Story of the Hare That Lost His Spectacles," instead being treated as one long track

Bruce Eder - All Music Guide
 

 L y r i c s

 A Passion Play

"Do you still see me even here?"
(The silver cord lies on the ground.)
"And so I'm dead", the young man said --- over the hill (not a wish away).
My friends (as one) all stand aligned although their taxis came too late.
There was / a rush along the Fulham Road.
There was / a hush in the Passion Play.
Such a sense of glowing in the aftermath / ripe with rich attainments
all imagined / sad misdeeds in disarray / the sore thumb screams aloud,
echoing out of the Passion Play.
All the old familiar choruses come crowding in a different key:
Melodies decaying in sweet dissonance.
There was a rush / along the Fulham Road / into the Ever-passion Play.
And who comes here to wish me well?
A sweetly-scented angel fell.
She laid her head upon my disbelief and bathed me with her ever-smile.
And with a howl across the sand I go escorted by a band of gentlemen
in leather bound -- NO-ONE (but someone to be found).
All along the icy wastes there are faces smiling in the gloom.
Roll up roll down,
Feeling unwound? -- step into the viewing room.
The cameras were all around.
We've got you taped -- you're in the play.
Here's your I.D.
(Ideal for identifying one and all.)
Invest your life in the memory bank -- ours the interest and we
thank you.
The ice-cream lady wet her drawers, to see you in the passion play.
take the prize for instant pleasure
captain of the cricket team
public speaking in all weathers
a knighthood from a queen.
All your best friends' telephones never cooled from the heat of your hand.
There's / a line in a front-page story / 13 horses that also-ran.
Climb in your old umbrella.
Does it have a nasty tear in the dome?
But / the rain only gets in sometimes and / the sun never leaves you alone.
Lover of the black and white -- it's your first night.
The Passion Play / goes all the way / spoils your insight.
Tell me / how the baby's made / how the lady's laid / why the old
dog howls in sadness.
And your little sister's immaculate virginity wings away on the bony
shoulders of a young horse named George who stole surreptitiously
into her geography revision.
(The examining body examined her body.)
Actor of the low-high Q, let's hear your view.
Peek at the lines upon your sleeves since your memory won't do.
Tell me / how the baby's graded / how the lady's faded / why the old dogs
howl with madness.
All of this and some of that's the only way to skin the cat.
And now you've lost a skin or two -- you're for us and we for you.
The dressing room is right behind
We've got you taped -- you're in the play.
How does it feel to be in the play?
How does it feel to play the play?
How does it feel to be the play?
Man of passion rise again, we won't cross you out -- for we do love
you like a son -- of that there's no doubt.
Tell us / is it you who are here for our good cheer?
Or / are we here / for the glory / for the story / for the gory satisfaction
of telling you how absolutely awful you really are?
There was / a rush along the Fulham Road.
There was / a hush in the Passion Play.


The Story Of The Hare Who Lost His Spectacles

This is the story of the hare who lost his spectacles.
Owl loved to rest quietly whilst no one was watching. Sitting on a
fence one day, he was surprised when suddenly a kangaroo ran close by.
Now this may not seem strange, but when Owl overheard Kangaroo whisper
to no one in particular, ``The hare has lost his spectacles,'' well, he
began to wonder.
Presently, the moon appeared from behind a cloud and there, lying on
the grass was hare. In the stream that flowed by the grass -- a
newt. And sitting astride a twig of a bush -- a bee.
Ostensibly motionless, the hare was trembling with excitement, for
without his spectacles he was completely helpless. Where were his
spectacles? Could someone have stolen them? Had he mislaid them? What
was he to do?
Bee wanted to help, and thinking he had the answer began: ``You
probably ate them thinking they were a carrot.''
``No!'' interrupted Owl, who was wise. ``I have good eye-sight, insight,
and foresight. How could an intelligent hare make such a silly
mistake?'' But all this time, Owl had been sitting on the fence,
scowling!
Kangaroo were hopping mad at this sort of talk. She thought herself
far superior in intelligence to the others. She was their leader;
their guru. She had the answer: ``Hare, you must go in search of the
optician.''
But then she realized that Hare was completely helpless without his
spectacles. And so, Kangaroo loudly proclaimed, ``I can't send Hare in
search of anything!''
``You can guru, you can!'' shouted Newt. ``You can send him with Owl.''
But Owl had gone to sleep. Newt knew too much to be stopped by so
small a problem -- ``You can take him in your pouch.'' But alas, Hare
was much too big to fit into Kangaroo's pouch.
All this time, it had been quite plain to hare that the others knew
nothing about spectacles.
As for all their tempting ideas, well Hare didn't care.
The lost spectacles were his own affair.
And after all, Hare did have a spare a-pair.
A-pair.

THE END
We sleep by the ever-bright hole in the door / eat in the corner / talk to the
floor -- cheating the spiders who come to say ``Please'',
(politely).
They bend at the knees.
Well, I'll go to the foot of our stairs.
Old gentlemen talk / of when they were young / of ladies
lost and erring sons.
Lace-covered dandies revel (with friends) pure as the truth --
tied at both ends.
Well I'll go to the foot of our stairs.
Scented cathedral -- spire pointed down.
We pray for souls in Kentish Town.
A delicate hush -- the gods / floating by / wishing us well --
pie in the sky.
God of ages / Lord of Time -- mine is the right to be wrong.
Well I'll go to the foot of our stairs.
Jack rabbit mister spawn a new breed of love-hungry pilgrims
(no bodies to feed).
Show me a good man.
I'll show you the door.
The last hymn is sung and the devil cries ``More.''
Well, I'm all for leaving and that being done, I've put in a request
to take up my turn in that forsaken paradise that calls itself ``Hell'' --
Where no-one has nothing and nothing is
well meaning fool, pick up thy bed and rise up from your gloom smiling.
Give me your hate and do as the loving heathen do.
Colors I've none -- dark or light, red, white or blue.
Cold is my touch (freezing).
Summoned by name -- I am the overseer over you.
Given this command to watch o'er our miserable sphere.
Fallen from grace / called on to bring sun or rain.
Occasional corn from my oversight grew.
Fell with mine angels from a far better place, offering services for
the saving of face.
Now you're here, you may as well admire all whom living has retired
from the benign reconciliation.
Legends were born surrounding mysterious lights seen in the sky
(flashing).
I just / lit a fag then / took my leave in the blink of an eye.
Passionate play -- join round the maypole in dance (primitive rite) (wrongly).
Summoned by name / I am the overseer / over you.
Flee the icy Lucifer.
Oh he's an awful fellow!
What a mistake!
I didn't take a feather from his pillow.
Here's the everlasting rub: neither am I good or bad.
I'd give up my halo for a horn and the horn for the hat
I once had.
I'm only breathing.
There's life on my ceiling.
The flies there are sleeping quietly.
Twist my right arm in the dark.
I would give two or three for one of those days that never made
impressions on the old score.
I would gladly be a dog barking up the wrong tree.
Everyone's saved -- we're in the grave.
See you there for afternoon tea.
Time for awaking -- the tea lady's / making a brew-up and / baking
new bread.
Pick me up at half past none -- there's / not a moment to lose. There
is / the train on which I came.
On the platform are my old shoes.
Station master rings his bell.
Whistles blow and flags wave.
A little of what you fancy does you good (Or so it should).
I thank everybody for making me welcome.
I'd stay but my wings have just dropped off.
Hail!
Son of kings / make the ever-dying sign / cross your fingers in the
sky for those about to BE.
There am I waiting along the sand.
Cast your sweet spell upon the land and sea.
Magus Perde, take your hand from off the chain.
Loose a wish to still / the rain / the storm about to BE.
Here am I (voyager into life).
Tough are the soles that tread the knife's edge.
Break the circle / stretch the line / call upon the devil.
Bring / the gods / the gods' own fire.
In the conflict revel.
The passengers / upon the ferry crossing / waiting to be born / renew the
pledge of life's long song / rise to the reveille horn.
Animals / queueing at the gate that stands upon the shore / breathe the
ever-burning fire that guards the ever-door.
Man / son of man / buy the flame of ever-life (yours to breathe and
breath the pain of living): living BE!
Here am I!
Roll the stone away from the dark into ever-day.
There was a rush / along the Fulham Road / into the Ever-passion Play.

 M P 3   S a m p l e s


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