Despite the fact that I live a relatively “clean” life, that doesn’t mean I don’t have friends who indulge in, let’s say, “unhealthy activities.” I know a fair amount of people who have certain bad habits that could, and hell, probably will, end up getting them in some deep sh*t at some point or another in their lives. But, hey, I mean, who am I to judge? People are going to do whatever they want to do no matter what I think or say about it. Eventually you get used to it and it no longer becomes an issue at all.

On the other side of the coin, though, these buds of mine can also prove to be a valuable asset when it comes to the media. Television, music, movies, you name it. I get to see things from a different point of view, and I’ll often listen to the recommendations given to me by these friends of mine. Hell, it was them who turned me onto many of the music groups I’ve been listening to lately, not to mention television shows that I’ve started watching more often. It was thanks to them that I discovered the simple joys of an episode of SpongeBob SquarePants, and it was them who turned me onto stoner-rock Gods Queens Of The Stone Age.

This particular tale begins on the streets of my hometown, wandering home from a trip to the gym with one of my aforementioned “buddies.” The discussion quickly turned from sports to music, where we began talking about music. First came the issue of The Strokes, and then the previously pointed out Queens Of The Stone Age. The conversation shifted once more after that to one of his favourite groups. None other than Jethro Tull. Naturally, my curiosity was piqued, as I was used to him singing the praises of Bob Marley and Pink Floyd while my mind wandered off in all different directions. But this, this was different, and I listened intently as he described the entire idea of his new favourite band to me. You see, apparently Jethro Tull is great for getting “burnt” to, as it is mellow. According to my friend, the flutes and the entire musical approach is just so peaceful and rich that it’s impossible to stop listening to them once an album has begun.

I knew that part of this explanation came as a result of my friend’s “habits,” but I was nonetheless intrigued by what he was saying, and began to think if I could ever remember hearing any Tull myself. After a moment of searching, I recalled hearing the tune Locomotive Breath on the radio once or twice. It was a good song, notable more for the fact that I could never figure out who it was that performed it than anything else. The next step was asking which of their records was the group’s best. His response was the one I was expecting on some level or another, Thick As A Brick, a record that I vaguely knew something about. My friend’s father, a stoner too as it so happens, had a copy of Thick As A Brick on vinyl. Soon after, the two of us parted ways as we headed towards our respective houses.

For the uninformed, Jethro Tull was, and still is, one of the lesser-known British rock bands. Although they never achieved the commercial success of contemporaries The Who and Led Zeppelin, Tull were held in a much higher light by music critics throughout the world. While many of Led Zeppelin’s early efforts were critically panned, writers from all sources nearly always praised Jethro Tull. Perhaps this praise comes as a result of the band’s sound, which could be described as classic rock in a near literal sense. The group, led by singer Ian Anderson, relies heavily on a mix of acoustic and electric guitars, with the final touch being the presence of a flute in many of their songs.

Jethro Tull’s most productive time as a band came, much like fellow hard rockers, in the late sixties and early seventies. After toiling in relative obscurity for several years, the Tull hit pay dirt with Aqualung, an epic hard-rocking album that would end up becoming the ensembles best-selling record. However, all was not well in Tull-ville. Critics and fans alike were describing the Aqualung record as a concept album. Ever the thinker he was, Anderson was upset over the misinterpretation of his writing and came up with a solution. He said to his fans, “If you want a concept album, then I’ll give you a concept album.”

And thus, Thick As A Brick was born; out of nothing more than spite for those that got the wrong message out of Tull’s music. Although the album doesn’t have the plot of, say, Tommy, or the dark and emotional presence of The Wall, Thick As A Brick stands as a great album for completely different reasons. The album doesn’t have some deep message or something to get people thinking, no. It was simply a spoof, a parody, and a total and utter joke that far too many people took too seriously.

Upon first inspection, it appears that Thick As A Brick is an extremely short album with very little meat and bones at all. But that isn’t the case, because the record actually consists of two songs, with each one clocking in at over twenty moments. And if that weren’t enough for any listener, the 1997 remaster of the LP includes two extra tracks, the first one being a live performance of the song, and the second, a very informal interview with the three ‘main’ members of Jethro Tull - Anderson, Martin Barre and Jeffrey Hammond.

So what is the actual concept of this concept album? The song, the record, is actually a poem written by Gerald (Little Milton) Bostock for a competition organized by the Society For Literary Advancement and Gestation (SLAG).

The Society For Literary Advancement And Gestation (SLAG), announced their decision late last night to disqualify eight year old prize-winner Gerald (Little Milton) Bostock following the hundreds of protests and threats received after the reading of his epic poem “Thick As A Brick” on BBC Television last Monday night. A hastily reconvened panel of Judges accepted the decision by four leading child psychiatrists that the boy’s mind was seriously unbalanced and that his work was a product of an “extremely unwholesome attitude towards life, his God and Country”. Bostock was recommended for psychiatric treatment following examination “without delay”.

A newspaper, the St. Cleve Chronicle, is included with every album. The front page describes this very controversy, as well as the other news of the day. And Tull, in order to make some type of political statement has decided to perform the boys’ poem as part of a song.

Obviously, this is all a made up scenario, but also one that was made up rather well and one that, even to this day, has people convinced that the boy was real. He must be getting on in age, mustn’t he? There is no St. Cleve Chronicle, and none of the articles found within it are other. No mongrel dog soiled an actor’s foot, and the review of the record that it comes packaged with was written by Anderson himself, under the guise of one Julian Stone-Mason B.A. In fact, the whole newspaper was written and put together by the group, presenting glimpses of everyday life in a small English town, and telling entertaining tales in the process. There are photos, editorials, and even a sports section that chronicles the days’ events in the local darts and snooker tournaments.

In reality, this record is a parody; a jab at pretentious rock stars the world over. The band didn’t mean to say much at all, despite thousands of people all over who claim to be able to explain what this record is about. The song was not written by Milton Bostock, it was written, like all other Jethro Tull’s material, by Ian Anderson. Just listening to the lyrics, and even the album title itself, suggests that the band is doing nothing more than messing around at the expense of those who are convinced there is something bigger going on here.

But just because the record is a sort-of joke, doesn’t mean it isn’t worth listening to, as there is value in it if absorbed properly. Indeed there is a sort of underlining theme about politics and society that becomes evident upon closer inspection of little Milton’s lyrics. Unfortunately, the message is rather hidden through the inaccessibility of the record on a whole. It certainly isn’t something that everyone will enjoy. The fact that the entire album is only two tracks, seamed together, has and continues to be a turn-off to many people who would probably otherwise like the band. When I left my copy of the record sitting by the computer, my sister went even so far as to grimace at the track listing upon realizing the length. But then it probably doesn’t matter seeing as how she wouldn’t like the group anyways.

Like I previously stated, the Thick As A Brick album consists of two tracks, Thick As A Brick parts one and two. Since the record was recorded and released long before the advent of digital technology, Anderson and co. had to work around the problems that arose from having the record on vinyl. As a result the song, which is essentially just a 44 minute-long song, was split up into two portions, each of which took up a single side on record. With the onset of digital technology and CDs, it is perhaps a bit surprising that the album wasn’t just trimmed back to make it one track long. After all, it really isn’t necessary to have the two parts on separate tracks when there isn’t even any silence separating them. My guess is that the band was striving for authenticity; to give it the same feel it had when it appeared on wax all those years ago.

I usually go through and do a track-by-track review or a discussion of the album’s highlights, but with Thick As A Brick, that’s nearly impossible, especially since its nearly impossible to tell one the first part segues into the second. But I shall try to give a bit of a run down.

Thick As A Brick begins with a softly picked acoustic guitar and Ian Anderson’s vocals - singing a line that seems to reaffirm that the album is a tongue-in-cheek joke:

Really don't mind if you sit this one out
My words but a whisper -- your deafness a SHOUT
I May make you feel but I can't make you think

As the vocals continue, the flute picks up, and eventually becomes a recurring instrument throughout the record, while saxophones, trumpets, and violins play smaller roles. Martin Barre also even adds to the track through the use of the medieval lute and timpanis. As the song continues, it follows a tremendous pattern of ups and downs, complete with mini-crescendos and climaxes that make one wonder if the band is about to fall apart on the next verse. Sometimes the music is slow and measured, and at others it soars behind Anderson’s vocals. The rhythm changes are frequent as well, sometimes slowing and sometimes picking up, once again to keep up with the wild pace of the lead singer as his vocals continue to grow in power as the number continues. Guitar solos abound, and Martin Barre even has a chance to spread his wings on a brief bit that sounds a little bit more improvisational than the rest of the record.

As the album approaches the bridge that carries it into the second half of the album, we begin to hear a more techno element as the guitars begin to swell and then echo in the background. A little bit of psychedelic sound effects finishes the first half and begins the second half. The flute picks up and the band quickly falls back into the groove and tempo set on the first half of the album. The second half has even more ferocity than the first, with all of the instruments seemingly playing together in a beautiful unison, a pleasant bit of contrast between the electric guitars and the folk instruments of old.

The tempo rises quickly as the song nears its end, the final climax, before the music goes quite and we return to the same acoustic guitar and vocal pattern that began the record, singing one of the same lines.

The bonus tracks found on Thick As A Brick include a live performance of the record/song, a rather restrained version of the song in that it clocks in at just under twelve minutes - restrained, especially since the band was infamous for opening shows with an hour-plus rendition of the song. The song closely resembles the studio version, which is evidence of how well the band could play live. There’s nothing particularly remarkable about this track, but it is a good song as far as bonus tracks go.

The second bonus track is a fifteen-plus minute interview with three members of Jethro Tull, in which they discuss the making of the Thick As A Brick album. It’s an entertaining listen for the first time, but after that becomes obsolete and I usually program it out. You have to expect to get this type of thing with remastered albums, though, so it doesn’t particularly bother me.

Thick As A Brick is an absolutely stunning album that is almost awe-inspiring in it’s construction and delivery. It almost boggles the mind when you think about how the album had to be recorded - a twenty-minute long song would require amazing planning, let alone an entire album that is one track. This is one of the albums in the history of rock and roll, along with such luminaries as Dark Side Of The Moon, Animals, and Electric Ladyland, which needs to be slowly digested over several listens to fully appreciate its scope.

Yeah, it’s pretentious and silly. But it’s that way for a reason. And that ability to be able to poke fun at oneself is a rare quality that makes Thick As A Brick especially endearing.

Recommended: Yes