Great Cake* Experiment Week 11: while the music lasts
Music’s always been quite a big part of my life. I distinctly remember listening to music in the car with my dad when I was young. Mum didn’t like the radio up loud so we would wait until she wasn’t in the car and then blast it. Holidays from my youth are punctuated with songs. We didn’t have very much money so holidays were almost always within short driving distance. Turn Back Time by Cher and Luka by Suzanna Vega are two that I remember very very well, far more than anything else concerning the holidays that they inhabited. But it’s Jethro Tull that is settled deep within every holiday, every car journey and every ‘Quick! Your mum’s gone out for the messages! Stick some music on!’ of my childhood. My dad loves Jethro Tull with a passion that has permeated both my memories and my personality, and shown me just how awesome music is.
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I didn’t own any Jethro Tull of my own for years; why would I need to when Dad owns the entire back catalogue in several formats? I lived in Spain for a year when I was 21. Just before I left my dad presented me with a handmade cassette of all the Jethro Tull he thought I would need to get me through the year without his unending supply. I listened to that cassette more that I thought I would, that year.
I would call home about once a week using a payphone at the end of my street and an international calling card, as this was before the days of Skype. I would talk to whoever was in the house at the time and get all the goss. One day my brother answered the phone, yelled “Rach is on the phone!’ into the ether of the family home as was (in fact, still is) his wont, and my dad immediately yelled back ‘I’m coming!” Dad was beside himself and wanted to tell me that his beloved Tull had announced a few days earlier that they were playing in Dublin for the first time since before I was born. It was to occur the following May, and he had already bought the entire family tickets so we could all go. Neither I nor my brother had ever seen them live, and it was well over twenty years since either of my parents had seen them. I was still going to be in Spain though for my studies, and told dad that. ‘I know’ he said. ‘I just got one for you anyway, just in case’. That melted my heart and turned me into a gibbering mess the second I put the phone down, so much so it caused my flatmate glued to the next payphone over look up in alarm. I didn’t get to go to the gig as flights home were quite expensive and a medical nonsense had meant I’d already had to go home in the April, so my godmother went in my stead. But the family took pictures, bought me a programme and sang all the words at the top of their lungs for me, even my Mum.
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Three years ago James and I went home to my folks’ house for Christmas, and while I was there Dad said he was breaking a mold and was going to give me my birthday present at Christmas. This was really quite unusual as my birthday is in May. But I played along and opened the envelope he presented me with. It was two tickets for James and I to see Jethro Tull play their 40th Anniversary Tour in the Royal Festival Hall in London, two days before my birthday. They were ringside seats, 4 rows from the front. And I melted, all over again.
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If there is anyone in the audience who isn’t a Tull fan, I feel I should educate you, not least as my dad would kill me if I didn’t. My favourite song is probably Life’s a Long Song which for years I thought was Life’s a Love Song, and that’s what I’d sing. Dad would tell me I was mad and I’d tell him that if that wasn’t what was on the recording, it what should have been. I think I’ve finally come around to Tull’s way of thinking though.
And the seminal piece of brilliance is the 43 minute Thick as a Brick. It’s like a classical suite I suppose in that the songs can be listened to separately (and indeed are split up on CDs etc now) but are really best listened to all at once. G’wan. My dad will love you for it.
