Στις 11 Φεβρουαρίου του 1977 -αν και στην επίσημη ιστοσελίδα τους δίνουν χρονολογία κυκλοφορίας 1976 (γιατί τότε ηχογραφήθηκε)-, οι Jethro Tull κυκλοφόρησαν τον δέκατο δίσκο του με τίτλο "Songs From The Woods"...
Ο δίσκος με το άνοιγμά του, με τις πρώτες νότες του, σε βάζει αμέσως σε άλλο κλίμα, σε μια άλλη εποχή...κάπως μεσαιωνική...αν και πάλι με την επίσημη ιστοσελίδα τους οι μοναδικές, μεσαιωνικής ηχητικής εποχής, δουλειές τους είναι τα War Child -1974- και Minstrel In The Gallery -1975- το Songs From The Woods κατατάσσεται σαν Folk album ...
Είναι μια δουλειά, που μουσικά τουλάχιστον, -για την εποχή του- είναι πολύ μπροστά... και απο πειραματισμό και απο εναλλαγές στον ρυθμό αλλά και απο ιδέες...
Για μένα είναι ενας δίσκος διαμάντι...ίσως και ο τελευταίος που έχουν κυκλοφορήσει μέχρι σήμερα...
Με το Songs From The Woods "λέγεται" ότι ξεκίνησε μια τριλογία με Folk albums μαζί με τα Heavy Horses και Stormwatch...-για το τελευταίο δεν θα έπαιρνα και όρκο...-
Το Songs From The Woods είναι ο τελευταίος πετυχημένος εμπορικά δίσκος αφού έπιασε το #8 στα Billboards και το #13 στην Αγγλία...-και πως να μην είναι...αφου είναι δισκάρα... : Ρ -
Αξιοσημείωτα γεγονότα για τον δίσκο είναι πως στο Jack On The Green ο Ian Anderson παίζει ΟΛΑ τα όργανα...(μόνος του : ) ... αφού είναι Θεός)
και το δεύτερο είναι πως το εξώφυλλο ..δεν είναι φωτογραφία... αλλά ζωγραφιά!!!! -Θεικό;;;- το όνομα του ζωγράφου είναι Jay L. Lee -αλλά δυστυχώς δεν βρήκα κάτι για τον ίδιο : ( -
Το Tracklist έχει ως εξής:
1. Songs From The Woods
2. Jack-in-the-Green
3. Cup of Wonder
4. Hunting Girl
5. Ring Out, Solstice Bells
6. Velvet Green
7. The Whistler
8. Pibroch (Cap in Hand)
9. Fire at Midnight
και οι ομάδα που έπαιξε μπάλα:
Ian Anderson - Φωνή, φλάουτο, μαντολίνο, ακουστική κιθάρα...και τα πάντα στο Jack In The Green
Barriemore Barlow - (Θεικός ντράμερ) -spoiler?- Τύμπανα
Martin Barre - Κιθάρα
John Evan - πλήκτρα -πιάνο
John Glascock - μπάσο, φωνητικά
David Palmer - πλήκτρα
Βαθμολογία...
Εξώφυλλο...αν ήταν φωτογραφία θα έπαιρνε 4/10...αλλά επειδή είναι ζωγραφιά θα πάρει 7/10
Δίσκος 10/10
Παραγωγή 9/10
Αγαπημένα...
Ολόκληρος ο δίσκος...αλλά να πω την αμαρτία μου ξεχωρίζω...λιιιιιιγο τα Songs From The Woods, Hunting Girl, The Whistler, και Fire At Midnight
Για όσους δεν το έχουν με την Folk-Rock τους προτείνω να δοκιμάσουν το Songs From The Woods με κάποιο βαθμό δυσκολίας, αλλά άνετα το Jack In The Green
για τους υπόλοιπους...
n'joy
1. Songs From The Woods
Let me bring you songs from the wood:
To make you feel much better than you could know.
Dust you down from tip to toe.
Show you how the garden grows.
Hold you steady as you go.
Join the chorus if you can:
It'll make of you an honest man.
Let me bring you love from the field:
Poppies red and roses filled with summer rain.
To heal the wound and still the pain,
That threatens again and again,
As you drag down every lover's lane.
Life's long celebration's here.
I'll toast you all in penny cheer.
Let me bring you all things refined:
Galliards and lute songs served in chilling ale.
Greetings well met fellow, hail!
I am the wind to fill your sail.
I am the cross to take your nail:
A singer of these ageless times,
With kitchen prose and gutter rhymes.
Songs from the wood make you feel much better.
3. Cup of Wonder
May I make my fond excuses for the lateness of the hour,
but we accept your invitation, and we bring you Beltane's flower.
For the May Day is the great day, sung along the old straight track.
And those who ancient lines did lay will heed the song that calls them back.
Pass the word and pass the lady, pass the plate to all who hunger.
Pass the wit of ancient wisdom, pass the cup of crimson wonder.
Ask the green man where he comes from, ask the cup that fills with red.
Ask the old grey standing stones that show the sun its way to bed.
Question all as to their ways, and learn the secrets that they hold.
Walk the lines of nature's palm crossed with silver and with gold.
Pass the cup and pass the lady, pass the plate to all who hunger.
Pass the wit of ancient wisdom, pass the cup of crimson wonder.
Join in black December's sadness, lie in August's welcome corn.
Stir the cup that's ever-filling with the blood of all that's born.
But the May Day is the great day, sung along the old straight track.
And those who ancient lines did lay will heed this song that calls them back.
Pass the word and pass the lady, pass the plate to all who hunger.
Pass the wit of ancient wisdom, pass the cup of crimson wonder.
but we accept your invitation, and we bring you Beltane's flower.
For the May Day is the great day, sung along the old straight track.
And those who ancient lines did lay will heed the song that calls them back.
Pass the word and pass the lady, pass the plate to all who hunger.
Pass the wit of ancient wisdom, pass the cup of crimson wonder.
Ask the green man where he comes from, ask the cup that fills with red.
Ask the old grey standing stones that show the sun its way to bed.
Question all as to their ways, and learn the secrets that they hold.
Walk the lines of nature's palm crossed with silver and with gold.
Pass the cup and pass the lady, pass the plate to all who hunger.
Pass the wit of ancient wisdom, pass the cup of crimson wonder.
Join in black December's sadness, lie in August's welcome corn.
Stir the cup that's ever-filling with the blood of all that's born.
But the May Day is the great day, sung along the old straight track.
And those who ancient lines did lay will heed this song that calls them back.
Pass the word and pass the lady, pass the plate to all who hunger.
Pass the wit of ancient wisdom, pass the cup of crimson wonder.
One day I walked the road and crossed a field to go by where the hounds ran hard.
And on the master raced: behind the hunters chased to where the path was barred.
One fine young lady's horse refused the fence to clear.
I unlocked the gate but she did wait until the pack had disappeared.
Crop handle carved in bone; sat high upon a throne of finest English leather.
The queen of all the pack, this joker raised his hat and talked about the weather.
All should be warned about this high born Hunting Girl.
She took this simple man's downfall in hand; I raised the flag that she unfurled.
Boot leather flashing and spurnecks the size of my thumb.
This highborn hunter had tastes as strange as they come.
Unbridled passion: I took the bit in my teeth.
Her standing over me on my knees underneath.
My lady, be discreet. I must get to my feet and go back to the farm.
Whilst I appreciate you are no deviate, I might come to some harm.
I'm not inclined to acts refined, if that's how it goes.
Oh, high born Hunting Girl, I'm just a normal low born so and so.
And on the master raced: behind the hunters chased to where the path was barred.
One fine young lady's horse refused the fence to clear.
I unlocked the gate but she did wait until the pack had disappeared.
Crop handle carved in bone; sat high upon a throne of finest English leather.
The queen of all the pack, this joker raised his hat and talked about the weather.
All should be warned about this high born Hunting Girl.
She took this simple man's downfall in hand; I raised the flag that she unfurled.
Boot leather flashing and spurnecks the size of my thumb.
This highborn hunter had tastes as strange as they come.
Unbridled passion: I took the bit in my teeth.
Her standing over me on my knees underneath.
My lady, be discreet. I must get to my feet and go back to the farm.
Whilst I appreciate you are no deviate, I might come to some harm.
I'm not inclined to acts refined, if that's how it goes.
Oh, high born Hunting Girl, I'm just a normal low born so and so.
I'll buy you six bay mares to put in your stable
Six golden apples bought with my pay.
I am the first piper who calls the sweet tune,
But I must be gone by the seventh day.
So come on, I'm the whistler.
I have a fife and a drum to play.
Get ready for the whistler.
I whistle along on the seventh day
Whistle along on the seventh day.
All kinds of sadness I've left behind me.
Many's the day when I have done wrong.
But I'll be yours for ever and ever.
Climb in the saddle and whistle along.
So come on, I'm the whistler.
I have a fife and a drum to play.
Get ready for the whistler.
I whistle along on the seventh day
Whistle along on the seventh day.
Deep red are the sun-sets in mystical places.
Black are the nights on summer-day sands.
We'll find the speck of truth in each riddle.
Hold the first grain of love in our hands.
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