JETHRO TULL/TODD RUNDGREN
@The Backyard, Austin, TX
June 19, 2002
Classic Rock: the phrase sends shivers down the spines of most music critics. It's easy to make fun of the dinosaurs, the bands played endlessly on classic rock (or, as it's often being called these days, heritage rock) radio, simply because the constant repetition dulls whatever pleasures may have been found during the songs' initial spurts of popularity. Instead of ambitious and majestic, after the 100th play "Stairway to Heaven" starts to sound pretentious and goofy. It's like watching The Wizard of Oz 25 times; eventually any element of surprise or delight is gone and all you can see are the numerous mistakes that somehow made it on camera. Critics in particular take a great deal of venomous pleasure attacking the dinosaurs as they continue to stomp across the landscape. (Part of it, of course, is irritation that the same old bands maintain their popularity in the face of the alleged freshness of newer, more innovative artists. But that's a discussion for another time.), accusing them of being in it for the money rather than for art or fun. Many of these bands deserve it—after all, when was the last time the Rolling Stones actually gave a shit about "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" as anything other than a big paycheck? But critical derision can sometimes blind us to the charms of an older, more experienced act which still enjoys what it does. Even if you've heard the songs a million times, there's something to be said for hearing them again in the context of a live show in which the musicians still find pleasure in performing them.

Such was the case with Jethro Tull at Austin's lovely outdoor amphitheater The Backyard on this balmy June night. Touring in support of its retrospective concert CD/DVD Living With the Past, the band assayed a seamless mix of crowd-pleasing standards and deeper album cuts with enough evident enjoyment to make even the hoariest classic rock clichés seem fresh. Opening with "Living in the Past," reworked into a jazzier, mostly instrumental workout, Tull served notice that it was going to give the audience what it wanted, but with its own twist. For the rest of the healthy 90-minute set, the quintet alternated between faithful, enthusiastically performed hits like "Cross-Eyed Mary," "Jack-in-the-Green" and "A New Day Yesterday" with more obscure cuts. The latter, in fact, provided many of the show's highlights. "Hunt By Numbers," a cat-centric cut from Tull's last studio album J-Tull Dot Com, was a nice, crunchy slice of power rock, while "Roots to Branches," a critique of (what else) religion from the album of the same name, proves that Anderson hasn't lost his knack for combining oblique social commentary with a snappy tune. "Budapest," a romantic epic from the Grammy-winning album Crest of a Knave, was a surprising addition to the set, and an even more surprising high point. Even better was "The Water Carrier," a cut from the Anderson solo album The Secret Language of Birds, given a Tullicized remake with keyboardist Andrew Giddings on accordion and guitarist Martin Barre on electric bouzouki. The group climaxed the performance with combinations of the popular and obscure, closing the set proper by blending Anderson's Celtic rocker "The Habenero Reel" with a particularly ferocious take on "Aqualung" and encoring with a powerhouse "Locomotive Breath" that segued into excerpts of the lovely "Sweet Dream" (from Living in the Past) and the appropriately-titled "Cheerio."

Barre's performance was the biggest surprise of the evening; the combination of his razor-edged, distorted tone and lyrical, melodic riffs and solos proved what a fine guitarist he truly is. Anderson's flute stylings were love 'em or leave 'em, as usual, though his fluid lines on the bamboo flute were attention-getting. He was all over the stage as well, sitting still only to sing; otherwise he slinked, twisted, danced (after a fashion), posed and mugged for the audience with a complete lack of self-consciousness. His voice isn't what it once was, and occasionally a song suffered from his lack of larynx power, but there was no mistaking the enthusiasm in his (and the rest of the band's) theatrical performance. It's nice to know that even after all these years (in Anderson and Barre's case, over 30!), these guys still love what they do.

Opening the show was pop iconoclast Todd Rundgren, on his first night of the tour. Like Tull, the lanky songwriter/producer mixed audience favorites with more eccentric choices. Performing solo on acoustic guitar and piano, he inaugurated his set with back-to-back faves from Faithful: "Love of the Common Man" and "Cliché." He followed with tunes pulled from deep within the recesses of his back catalog, such as "There Goes My Inspiration" from the self-titled album by his long-defunct side band Utopia, "I Don't Want to Tie You Down" from A Wizard, A True Star, the jaunty "Song of the Viking" from Something/Anything? and the beautiful "Compassion" from Healing. He also played a cut from his Off Broadway musical Up Against It, the soundtrack to which is import-only; "Free, Male and 21" was both catchy and eye-rollingly amusing. Speaking of comedy, the Hawaii resident pulled out a ukulele for "Bang the Ukulele Daily," the silly but fun version of "Bang On the Drum All Day" that appears on his last album One Long Year, incorporating bogus Hawaiian chanting and bits of "Wimoweh" for good measure. He closed his portion of the show with the bossa nova version of "I Saw the Light" (from With a Twist) and an anthemic version of Utopia's "One World." It seemed like a short set, but thankfully the crowd roared enough to bring him back to the piano for a lovely "Hawking," from his underrated late-80s album Nearly Human. He can't quite hit those high notes like he used to—sometimes his voice didn't merely crack, it crumbled—but otherwise his voice is as powerful and soulful as it's ever been, making nearly every performance strong, even moving, and his good mood and the audience's unconditional support pulled him through any rough patches. It was a rare pleasure to see a living legend put on such a relaxed, intimate performance in front of such a large crowd. He doesn't tour much anymore, so if he comes to your town, don't pass up the chance. That he's opening for one of the few classic rock acts that still stokes its own fire is an excellent bonus. Michael Toland