Ian Anderson resurrected the classic rock band Jethro Tull Sunday night at The Pabst Theater, leaving a packed house gasping for breath and transporting them back to the days when Richard Nixon was president.
But that was a good thing.
Tull, one of the original creators of prog rock and a more or less moribund entity these days, was alive and well at the hands of Anderson and his 16-piece orchestra, playing favorites like "Aqualung," "My God" and "Mother Goose" and a scorching version of "Living in the Past." But he also threw in newer material as well as some Leonard Bernstein, Gabriel Faure and even a Christmas carol thrown in just for fun.
This was no nostalgia act, however.
The orchestra, consisting of students from Boston's New England Conservatory, embellished the music without ever turning it goopy or self-indulgent. It provided a perfect complement to Anderson's frenetic style and gave the old music a fresh sound that provided even tired old saws like "Locomotive Breath," Anderson's encore, with new life.
His version of Bernstein's "West Side Story" classic, "America," as arranged by Anderson's prog rock contemporary Keith Emerson, was nothing short of stunning. It was exhausting just watching him play the flute, but he carried on like a man defying his 59 years. "Thick as Brick," which went about ten minutes, was raucous.
Anderson showed that he is still as lithe as a teenage gymnast in spite of ACL knee surgery a few years ago after taking a spill on a slippery stage. At various points he walked like an egret across the stage, then strutted, then charged, then pranced, sometimes during the same number. And of course, as his trademark silhouette would indicate, he spent a lot of time playing on one leg with his other cocked, ankle touching knee, followed by a kick.
As a flautist, he may not be Rampal, but his flutter-tonguing and dynamics were simply amazing. There's no question that Anderson puts on a good show. He is as much a showman as he is a musician, and he gave ample evidence that he remains every bit the dynamic performer he was in Tull's heyday.
Anderson was highly engaging, and his banter between songs was at times hilarious. Introducing "Aqualung," he feigned senility and said he could not remember the name of the song even though it was Tull's most famous number. Asking the audience for help, he told the audience, "just don't shout out f*cking 'Freebird.'"
With that, the orchestra launched into what could only be described as an "Aqualung" overture, then punching the song's trademark six-note riff and following up with a blazing version of Tull's signature song.
In spite of the showmanship, at times the show dragged as songs went on a little too long. Faure's "Pavane," which Anderson identified as "Opus 50 something," was lovely but a bit on the long side, as were a few others.
And if you thought Home Shopping Network was the only one rushing the Christmas, Anderson and his cohorts played an extended version of "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" -- which he described as "Count Basie Meets Tom and Jerry." It was a move that was not only premature but also unnecessary, given that he played two sets of 65 and 75 minutes.
No matter. Ian Anderson and his mates were great fun.
But that was a good thing.
Tull, one of the original creators of prog rock and a more or less moribund entity these days, was alive and well at the hands of Anderson and his 16-piece orchestra, playing favorites like "Aqualung," "My God" and "Mother Goose" and a scorching version of "Living in the Past." But he also threw in newer material as well as some Leonard Bernstein, Gabriel Faure and even a Christmas carol thrown in just for fun.
This was no nostalgia act, however.
The orchestra, consisting of students from Boston's New England Conservatory, embellished the music without ever turning it goopy or self-indulgent. It provided a perfect complement to Anderson's frenetic style and gave the old music a fresh sound that provided even tired old saws like "Locomotive Breath," Anderson's encore, with new life.
His version of Bernstein's "West Side Story" classic, "America," as arranged by Anderson's prog rock contemporary Keith Emerson, was nothing short of stunning. It was exhausting just watching him play the flute, but he carried on like a man defying his 59 years. "Thick as Brick," which went about ten minutes, was raucous.
Anderson showed that he is still as lithe as a teenage gymnast in spite of ACL knee surgery a few years ago after taking a spill on a slippery stage. At various points he walked like an egret across the stage, then strutted, then charged, then pranced, sometimes during the same number. And of course, as his trademark silhouette would indicate, he spent a lot of time playing on one leg with his other cocked, ankle touching knee, followed by a kick.
As a flautist, he may not be Rampal, but his flutter-tonguing and dynamics were simply amazing. There's no question that Anderson puts on a good show. He is as much a showman as he is a musician, and he gave ample evidence that he remains every bit the dynamic performer he was in Tull's heyday.
Anderson was highly engaging, and his banter between songs was at times hilarious. Introducing "Aqualung," he feigned senility and said he could not remember the name of the song even though it was Tull's most famous number. Asking the audience for help, he told the audience, "just don't shout out f*cking 'Freebird.'"
With that, the orchestra launched into what could only be described as an "Aqualung" overture, then punching the song's trademark six-note riff and following up with a blazing version of Tull's signature song.
In spite of the showmanship, at times the show dragged as songs went on a little too long. Faure's "Pavane," which Anderson identified as "Opus 50 something," was lovely but a bit on the long side, as were a few others.
And if you thought Home Shopping Network was the only one rushing the Christmas, Anderson and his cohorts played an extended version of "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" -- which he described as "Count Basie Meets Tom and Jerry." It was a move that was not only premature but also unnecessary, given that he played two sets of 65 and 75 minutes.
No matter. Ian Anderson and his mates were great fun.
