The last time Jethro Tull were cool, Ted Heath was prime minister, but like Canadian rockers Rush – or Morris dancing – that very uncoolness is the band’s superpower. Their fans are truly devoted; those who love them, really love them. On Wednesday night at the London Palladium, the latest stop on Tull’s Curiosity tour, Soft Cell singer Marc Almond sat a few yards from me, someone who would have been high on my list of people you wouldn’t catch dead at a Jethro Tull show.
The venue felt appropriate for what turned out to be a decidedly theatrical affair; there was even an interval. An evening with Jethro Tull – or more accurately, an evening with Ian Anderson, the only founder member still in the line-up after nearly 59 years – is at times a frustrating affair. You wish they’d let go a little, allow the noise to build and the power to shake the room a bit. But the vibe was more “gentle freak-out”.
Sometimes it was like watching a band pretending to be a band. When Anderson, introducing the title track to 1972’s Thick as a Brick, mentioned prog rock, he firmly placed the phrase in scare quotes, as if it had become something shameful or silly, although the crowd yelped with delight at the very mention of the genre. Single The Navigators (2023) actually rocks us back in our seats a little before the mood changes, charmingly, with a rendition of Bach’s Bourrée in E minor, a piece written three centuries ago and part of the Tull repertoire since 1969, broken down into a properly groovy jazz moment.
If you’re wondering, does the chap from Jethro Tull still stand on one leg and play the flute? The answer is yes. To the point where you may begin to think, “Please, Mr Anderson, no more flute.” But, to be fair to the band, moaning about too much flute at a Jethro Tull gig is like going to the Crucible and complaining about everyone playing snooker.
The second half of the night had more of a “rock show” feel, some of which worked (1971’s My God was a punchy treat) while other parts felt interminable: a back-to-back medley of 2025’s Over Jerusalem and 1987’s Budapest would have tested the nerves of any non-devotee.
But the closing number, 1971’s Aqualung – for which newest band member, guitarist Jack Clark, stood stage front and let rip – was a genuinely exhilarating moment that brought the crowd to their feet, hollering their appreciation. It sent us all home with our ears ringing pleasantly, and what’s more, it wasn’t even 10pm. Result.
Jethro Tull’s UK dates continue until May 16. Details: jethrotull.com
