The trouble started before Jethro Tull arrived at the Red Rocks amphitheatre in Colorado. It was June 1971 and the British progressive rockers were riding high in the USA. Their album Aqualung had just gone Top Ten there, so the 9,500-capacity venue was understandably sold-out. When an estimated 1500 more turned up, the police directed them to watch from the side of neighbouring Mount Morrison.
Some complied, others started climbing walls and charging the gates. Rocks were thrown, a police helicopter swooped and soon the air was thick with tear gas. “It was an overreaction by Denver police,” singer Ian Anderson recalls. “They sent a helicopter to drop tear gas but the gas drifted into the theatre. They also set up roadblocks and tried to turn us back, so we just charged the gate. I ran straight on stage to talk to the audience.”
Ian, 77, calmed the explosive situation down. “I’d been in tear gas situations in Milan and Bologna around the same time, where elements of the public and the police clashed. I often had to step in and plead for sanity. It’s your responsibility as a performer, and it’s more effective than a promoter or a chief of police doing it.” Anderson assured the crowd they’d get a full set, advised them to cover their faces with their clothes, and invited parents with children to bring them to a makeshift hospital set up backstage. But some officers still blamed the band. Elements of the police saw us as the cause and wanted to way lay us afterwards. They resented giving up their evenings for we long-haired gits from the UK. We only managed to escape by hiding under blankets in the back of a station wagon.”
Later the promoter accepted the blame. Ironically, Dunfermline-born Ian had once tried to enrol as a police cadet in Blackpool. “They were interested until I told them I had O levels,” he says wryly. Jethro Tull’s concerts are “a lot calmer now, most of the audience have matured,” the sprightly septuagenarian adds with a smile. “And younger people have more respect for the police who are very rarely in attendance. It used to be armed uniformed police now it’s security in T-shirts, a visual deterrent only.”
The venues the Grammy-winning band perform in have changed too. “I’ve been privileged to play in many ancient Roman amphitheatres in Turkey, Israel, Greece, the islands – all memorable ancient monuments – and to perform, surrounded by beauty…They convey a sense of before and after, a degree of solemnity, as performing in cathedrals does here” – Anderson often plays fundraising Christmas shows in churches and cathedrals to help with the restoration and upkeep of these sacred buildings. “You appreciate the history. Sometimes it’s bad history. To be in dressing rooms that were once occupied by lions about to be slaughtered by gladiators is heartbreaking. In Germany we played a concrete amphitheatre built on a site for early Nazi rallies.
“I performed in a venue where Hitler had once been in the royal box – memorable, but not for good reasons. Maybe by playing there, we exorcise dark and dangerous ghosts from the past.”
Jethro Tull formed in Blackpool as a blues and jazz fusion band in 1967, taking their name from a radical 17th century agricultural pioneer, and later incorporating elements of folk, rock, and classical music into their eclectic sound. Ian, who cites Beethoven and Muddy Waters as major influences, is fondly remembered for wearing a codpiece on stage and playing wild-eyed flute solos while standing on one leg “like some demented Nureyev”. His codpiece became so pungent, it could be detected from twenty feet away. Ian’s wife Shona has since quietly disposed of his entire collection along with, he suspects, his “rather sexy” stage tights.
Tull’s first big break was supporting Pink Floyd at Hyde Park in 1968. In 1969 they opened for Jimi Hendrix, toured the US with Led Zeppelin and had their first Top 3 smash, Living In The Past. Other hits, Sweet Dream and The Witch’s Promise, followed, but albums were their speciality. They’ve sold more than 60 million to date. Six went Top Ten, 15 more went Top 30. Biggest were 1971’s multi-platinum Aqualung, which spawned fan favourites Locomotive Breath and Cross-Eyed Mary and sold more than seven million in the USA alone. The follow-up, Thick Of A Brick, topped the US Billboard chart.
On Friday the band release Curious Ruminant – the 24th studio album of their 57-year recording career.
“It’s not a concept album, more my personal thoughts and feelings,” says Ian. One track, The Tipu House, is about aspiration in adversity. “Societies are filled with those who have risen from relative poverty to positions of greatness, their successes are a beacon of hope for the rest of us.”
Anderson’s father owned a boiler company in Blackpool, and Ian, the youngest of his three sons, has clearly inherited his entrepreneurial genes, building a successful Isle Of Skye salmon farm, which was turning over £12million-a-year before he sold it. The Andersons now live on an 18th Century estate set in 400 rolling acres of Wiltshire woodlands which they have lovingly expanded with oak trees – “an emblem of the Anderson-family clan, whose legend is ‘Stand sure’”.
They have two adult children, musician and Tull co-manager James, and actress daughter Gael who is married to The Walking Dead star Andrew Lincoln.
Ian’s songs are observational, rather than opinionated.
“I like to write music because I’m motivated. You’ve got to let a song breathe and grow organically. I write quickly, but I edit a lot. Analogies, similes, and metaphors are in the toolbox.” He doesn’t do social media. “I refuse to be drawn into communication with strangers. It’s damaging, dangerous and unhelpful. I’m immune to cancellation.”
Ian relaxes riding trial bikes. “I’ve loved motorcycles since I was a teenager but finances didn’t allow me to buy one until 1974 when I bought a Mick Andrews replica trial bike – the bike he rode for Ossa when he was European champion in 1972.”
He recalls driving it down to Monte Carlo and riding it to Maison Rouge studio every day when they recorded their 1975 album, Minstrels In The Gallery.
“It was the first ever time I rode the bike on the road. I was only really interested in off-road bikes. It’s a practical interest, it’s how I get around the estate.”
He owns “a few” vintage 80s bikes but doesn’t compete.
“I only compete against myself. It’s not a fear of losing, I’m afraid of winning. I felt bad about winning because the other people took it so seriously. I’ve always been a bit of a loner, I’m not really a team player.”
Retirement isn’t in the cards yet. “There was a time when you’d assume your medical and mental health might not last for a long time, and your popularity would fade.
“Tull were an unlikely outlier band who sold a lot of records and appealed to many people, but we’re not for everybody and never will be.
“I couldn’t see myself going back to clubs – I never liked the hot sweaty club atmosphere full of people drinking alcohol. My natural and spiritual home is the theatrical stage. I always liked theatres. Concert halls too, but they can be quite echoey – Carnegie Hall is an acoustic nightmare.
“When I get to the point where I’m not allowed to leave the house, I’ll stop. My ambition is to be mildly successful in doing whatever the hell I want to do.”
He pauses and adds. “It would be quite nice to do a tour with Elvis and John Lennon, but that will have to wait for another time. For all I know, those guys have formed a supergroup with Jimi Hendrix and decided, ‘Oh wait, we need a flute player…he’ll be here soon.
“But not that soon.”
*Jethro Tull’s new album Curious Ruminant is out on Friday March 7th
