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Jethro Tull
« Crest of a Knave »
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1 | Steel Monkey 3:40
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| 2 | Farm On The Freeway 6:31
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| 3 | Jump Start 4:55
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| 4 | Said She Was A Dancer 3:43
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| 5 | Dogs In The Midwinter 4:38
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| 6 | Budapest 10:05
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| 7 | Mountain Men 6:20
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| 8 | The Waking Edge 4:50
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| 9 | Raising Steam 4:06 |
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Ian Anderson - lead vocals, flute, acoustic guitars, keyboards, drum programming on tracks 1, 5, 9
Martin Barre - guitars
Dave Pegg - acoustic & electric bass
Guest musicians:
Doane Perry - drums on tracks 2, 7
Gerry Conway - drums on tracks 3, 4, 6, 8
Ric Sanders - violin on tracks 6, 8 |
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Recording location/date: Spring 1987 at Ian Anderson's home studio
Production: Ian Anderson
Cover Art by Andrew Jamieson |
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| Steel monkey
(Anderson)
As the moon slips up and the sun sets down
I'm a highrise jockey and I'm heaven bound
Do the workboot shuffle, loose brains from brawn
I'm a monkey puzzle and the lid is on
Can you guess my name? Can you guess my trade?
I'm going to catch you anyway
You might be |
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После провального эксперимента Under Wraps Ян Андерсон одумался и решил взять ориентир на более традиционный для Jethro Tull курс. Что бы там в свое время ни говорили шибко умные критики по поводу бесцветности материала представленного на Crest Of A Knave, данный альбом является одним из сильнейших альбомов, записанных группой в 80-х, да и 90-х тоже, и содержит песни, некоторые из которых можно смело причислить к классике группы.
По сравнению с альбомами 70-х (не говоря уж об ужасном предшественнике) Crest Of A Knave звучит более блюзово, в музыке стало больше хард-рока, а фирменная флейта Андерсона звучит уже не так фолково, как ранее. Звук для Jethro Tull достаточно жесткий, благодаря исчезновению электроники и отличной гитарной работе Мартина Бара, которому Ян Андерсон, наконец, позволил поиграть как следует. Кстати, приблизительно в данном стиле будут записаны все последующие альбомы группы 80-х и начала 90-х. Так что, Crest Of A Knave открыл новую эпоху в творчестве Jethro Tull.
Во всем альбоме чувствуется необыкновенная зрелость, присущая позднему творчеству группы и некая разочарованность, особенно выразившаяся в таких песнях, как Said She Was A Dancer, глубокой и эмоционально насыщенной Farm On The Freeway с отличными переходами и глубокими ударными, а также жемчужине альбома Budapest. Каждую из этих песен пронизывает необыкновенная изысканность и чувство меры, чему способствуют очень талантливые аранжировки. Хотя, честно говоря, после ухода Дэвида Палмера, из музыки Jethro Tull исчезла утонченность, присущая аранжировкам этого талантливого музыканта. Не мог Ян Андерсон и в этот раз не выразить нам свой народнический дух в песне Mountain Men, о чувствах шотландского горца в урбанистическом социуме. Если кто оказался счастливым обладателем ремастированного издания альбома, то сможет услышать бонус – великолепную Part Of The Machine с развернутыми гитарными соло Мартина Бара.
Несмотря на то, что состав группы все еще лихорадило, о чем свидетельствует участие при записи аж двух ударников (плюс в некоторых темах партии ударных сыграл сам маэстро Ян Андерсон, да еще в паре песен использовано программирование), и нерегулярную игру на басу Дэйва Пега, альбом удался на славу. Настолько удался, что с ним связан один любопытный курьез, выразившийся в получении Jethro Tull премии Грэмми за лучший альбом в жанре…… heavy metal! Во как!!! Последующими альбомами группа только укрепила вновь отвоеванные позиции, войдя в зрелую фазу «золотой осени» своего творчества. |
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Критики почти единогласно назвали этот альбом довольно слабым и бесцветным, но согласиться с ними можно лишь в некоторой степени. Кстати, вот прикол: именно эту работу удостоили премией «Грэмми», причем в категории «лучший альбом в стиле хэви-металл». То, что Jethro Tull никогда в жизни не были металлической группой, смутило, конечно, многих, и в дальнейшем было решено, что отныне для «хэви-металла» и «хард-рока» будут две разные премии. Но вернемся непосредственно к альбому. В музыкальном плане он представляет собой весьма добротную работу (правда, несколько неровную), близкую к классическим записям группы, с меньшим напором на электронику, а внимание было больше обращено на слаженную игру участников группы, причем солирование Андерсон решил поуменьшить по сравнению с тем, как это обычно делается, поскольку, по его мнению, не стоит из года в год показывать, как ты умеешь играть на том или ином инструменте; главное – не виртуозность, а цельность, монолитность звучания всех инструментов. Что касается текстов, то здесь мы имеем дело: 1) с любовными историями, в которых Иэн пытается привлечь внимание женского пола («Steel Monkey»), причем романы эти заканчиваются неудачей – остается лишь вспоминать о той москвичке, которая представилась танцовщицей, но на самом деле, вероятнее всего, это было не так («Said She Was a Dancer»), или же венгерке, которая, кажется, была бегуньей на короткие дистанции («Budapest»; очень красивая 10-минутная тема, надо признаться; гитара, флейта, оркестровка – все на высоте); так и хочется сказать: «Седина в бороду – бес в ребро», но Андерсону тогда было всего сорок; 2) с проблемами маленького человека: он беззащитен перед произволом властей, решивших построить дорогу на месте его фермы и заплативших ему миллион долларов, однако никакие деньги не могут заменить то, что ты называл домом («Farm on the Freeway»; прекрасная грустная флейта и весьма жесткие гитара и ударные), ведь человек всегда гордится своей родиной («Mountain Men»; красивое клавишное вступление с постепенным задействованием хардового саунда гитар и ударных); 3) с путевыми зарисовками – либо о городских трущобах («Jump Start»), либо о жизни в пути («Raising Steam»). В отличие от грампластинки на компакт-диске добавлено еще два трека – «Dogs in the Midwinter» (еще одна зарисовка – на этот раз о различных неприятных личностях – напоминающих псов политиках, начальниках, налоговиках, ростовщиках, – которые могут свести с ума) и «The Waking Edge» (прекрасный романтический трек, полный светлой грусти, о приснившейся герою девушке, но, к сожалению, то, что было сном, отсутствует в реальности). Вердикт – явно не лучший альбом прекрасной группы, но после нескольких прослушиваний отношение к нему становится весьма положительным. |
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Feel me climbing up your knee
Guess what I am!
I'm a steel monkey
Now some men hustle and some just think
And some go running before you blink
And some look up and some look down
From three hundred feet above the ground
And can you guess my name? And can you guess my trade?
Well, I won't rest before the world is made
Arm in arm, the angels fly
Keep me from falling out the sky
Steel monkey
Steel monkey
Steel monkey
I work in the thunder and I work in the rain
I work at my drinking and I feel no pain
I work on women if they want me to
You can have me climb all over you
Now have you guessed my name? And have you guessed my trade?
I'm cheap at the money I get paid
In the sulphur city, where men are men
We bolt those beams, then climb again
Steel monkey
Farm on the freeway
(Anderson)
Nine miles of two strand topped with barbed wire
Laid by the father for the son
Good shelter down there on the valley floor
Down by where the sweet stream run
Now they might give me compensation
That's not what I'm chasing, I was a rich man before yesterday
Now all I have got is a cheque and a pickup truck
And I left my farm on the freeway
They're busy building airports on the south side
Silicon chip factory on the east
And the big road's pushing through along the valley floor
Hot machine pouring six lanes at the very least
Now they say they gave me compensation
That's not what I'm chasing, I was a rich man before yesterday
Now all I have left is a broken down pickup truck
Looks like my farm is a freeway
They forgot they told us what this old land was for
Grow two tons the acre, boy, between the stones
This was no Southfork, it was no Ponderosa
But it was the place that I called home
They say they gave me compensation
That's not what I'm chasing, I was a rich man before yesterday
And what do I want with a million dollars and a pickup truck?
When I left my farm under the freeway
Jump start
(Anderson)
In the dark of the city backwoods
Something stirs, then slips away
Law and order in darkest Knightsbridge
Crime and punishment at play
Hey, Mr. Policeman! Won't you come on over?
Hook me up to the power lines of your love
Jump start or tow me away
Jump start or tow me away
And through the bruised machinery
The smoking haze of industry
Another day with ball and chain
I do my time, then home again
Hey, Mrs. Maggie! Won't you come on over?
Hook me up to the power lines of your love
Jump start or tow me away
Jump start or tow me away
Well, should I blame the officers?
Or maybe I should blame the priest?
Or should I blame the poor foot soldier?
Who's left to make the most from least
Hey, Jack Ripper! Won't you come on over?
Hook me up to the power lines of your love
Jump start or tow me away
Jump start or tow me away
You can blame the newsman talking
At you on the satellite TV
And if you're fighting for your shipyards
You might as well just blame the sea
Hey, Mr. Weatherman! Come on over
Hook me up to the power lines of your love
Jump start or tow me away
Jump start or tow me away
Said she was a dancer
(Anderson)
She said she was a dancer
If I believed it, it was my business
She surely knew a thing or two about control
Next to the bar we hit the samovar
She almost slipped right through my fingers
It was snowing outside and in her soul
Well, maybe you're a dancer
And maybe I'm the king of Old Siam
I thought it through
Best to let the illusion roll
I wouldn't say I've never heard that tale before
My frozen little senorita
But if your dream is good
Why not share it when the nights are cold?
Hey, Moscow! What's your story?
Lady, take your time, don't hurry
Maybe a student of the agricultural plan
Hey, Moscow! What's your name?
If you don't wanna say, don't worry
It would probably be hard for me to make it scan
With her phrase book in her silk soft hand
She spoke in riddles while the vodka listened
I said: Let me look up, love, if I might be so bold
She was the nearest thing to rock and roll
That side of the velvet curtain
That separates eastern steel from western gold
Hey, Miss Moscow! What's your story?
You needn't speak aloud, just whisper
Am I just the closest thing to an english man?
You've seen me in your magazines
Or maybe on state television
I'm your Pepsi Cola but you won't take me out the can
She said she was a dancer and so she did...
She said she was a dancer
If I believed it, it was my business
It felt like a merry dance that I was being led
So I stole one kiss, it was a near miss
She looked at me like I was Jack the Ripper
She leaned in close: Goodnight! Was all she said
So I took myself off to bed...
Dogs in the midwinter
(Anderson)
You ever had a day like I had today?
When things are stacked up bad
You look around and every face you see
Seems guaranteed to send you mad
And you peer into those hallowed institutions
And they bark at you from every side
But the bite goes wide
I see them running with their tails hanging low
Like dogs in the midwinter
All the prophets and the wise men and the hard politicos
Are all dogs in the midwinter
Let the breath from the mountain still the pain
Clear water from the fountain run sweeter than the rain
Dogs in the midwinter
Dogs in the midwinter
The boss man and the tax man and the moneylenders growl
Like dogs in the midwinter
The weaker of the herd can feel their eyes and hear them howl
Like dogs in the midwinter
Though the fox and the rabbit are at peace
Cold doggies in the manger turn last suppers into feasts
Dogs in the midwinter
Dogs in the midwinter
You ever had a day like I had today?
Dogs in the midwinter
You look around and every face you see
Dogs in the midwinter
And you peer into those hallowed institutions
And they bark at you from every side
But the bite goes wide
We're all running on a tightrope, wearing slippers in the snow
We're all dogs in the midwinter
Well, the ice is ever thinner, be careful how you go!
Like dogs in the midwinter
And it's hard to find true equilibrium
When you're looking at each other down the muzzle of a gun
Dogs in the midwinter
Dogs in the midwinter
Budapest
(Anderson)
I think she was a middle distance runner
The translation wasn't clear
Could be a budding stately hero
International competition in a year
She was a good enough reason for a party
Well, you couldn't keep up on a hard track mile
While she ran a perfect circle
And she wore a perfect smile
In Budapest
Hot night in Budapest
We had to cozzy up in the old gymnasium
Dusting off the mandolins and checking on the gear
She was helping out at the backstage
Stopping hearts and chilling beer
Yes, and her legs went on forever
Like staring up at infinity
Through a wisp of cotton panty
Along a skin of satin sea
Hot night in Budapest
You could cut the heat
Peel it back with the wrong side of a knife
Feel it blowing from the sidefills
Feel like you were playing for your life...if not the money
Hot night in Budapest
She bent down to fill the ice box
And stuffed some more warm white wine in
Like some weird unearthly vision
Wearing only T-shirt, pants and skin
You know, it rippled, just a hint of muscle
But the boys and me were heading west
So we left her to the late crew
And a hot night in Budapest
It was a hot night in Budapest
She didn't speak much english language
She didn't speak much anyway
She wouldn't make love but she could make good sandwich
And she poured sweet wine before we played
Hey, Budapest! Cha, cha, cha!
Let's watch her now!
I thought I saw her at the late night restaurant
She would have sent blue shivers down the wall
Yeah, but she didn't grace our table
In fact, she wasn't there at all
Yeah, and her legs went on forever
Like staring up at infinity
Her heart was spinning to the west lands
And she didn't care to be
That night in Budapest
It was a hot night in Budapest
Hot night in Budapest
Hot night in Budapest
Mountain men
(Anderson)
The poacher and his daughter
Throw soft shadows on the water in the night
A thin moon slips behind them
As they pull the net with no betraying light
And later on the coast road
I meet them and the old man winks a smile
And who am I to fast deny the right
To take a fish once in a while?
I walk with them, they wished me luck
When I ship out on the sunday from the Kyle
And from the church I hear them singing
As the ship moves sadly from the pier
Oh, poacher's daughter, sunday best
Two hundred brave souls share the farewell tear
Well, there's a house on the hillside
Where the drifting sands are born
Lay down and let the slow tide wash me
Back to the lands where I came from
Where the mountain men are kings
And the sound of the piper counts for everything
Did my tour, did my duty
I did all they asked of me
Died in the trenches and at Alamein
Died in the Falklands on TV
Going back to the mountain kings
Where the sound of the piper counts for everything
Long generations from the Isles
Sent to tread the foreign miles
And where the spiral ages meet
Felt naked dust beneath their feet
Future sun called winds to blow
And the past and present hard eyed crow
Flew hunting high and circling low
Over blackened plains of Eden
There's a child and a woman
Praying for an end to the mystery
Hoping for a word in a letter
Fair wind blown from across the sea
To where the mountain men are kings
And the sound of the piper counts for everything
There's a house on the hillside
Where the drifting sands are born
Lay down and let the slow tide wash me
Back to the lands where I came from
Where the mountain men are kings
And the sound of the piper counts for everything
Where the real mountain men are kings
And the sound of the piper counts for everything
Feel the naked dust beneath my toes
While the future sun calls winds to blow
And the past and present black eyed crow
Flies hunting high and circling low
Between dream mountains of our Eden
The waking edge
(Anderson)
As I wake up in a room somewhere
The dawn light not yet showing
There's just a thin horizon between me and her
The edge of a half dream glowing
Well, you know, I felt her in my dream last night
Strange how the sheets are warm beside me
Now how do I catch the waking edge?
As it slips to the far and wide of me
Didn't I try to hold it down?
Freeze on the picture, hang sharp on the sound
Catch the waking edge another time
Familiar shadows in my hotel room
Are still here for the taking
They seem to linger on as the street lights fade
And the empty dawn is breaking
Didn't I try to hold it down?
Freeze on the picture, hang sharp on the sound
Catch the waking edge another time
Private movie showing in my head
Which button do I press for re-run?
And how do I catch the waking edge?
The edge of a dream about someone
Well, you know, I felt her in my dream last night
Now the sheets are cold beside me
Raising steam
(Anderson)
Over high plains, through the snow
Roll those tracks out, don't you know? I'm raising steam
Thin vein creeping, hot blood flow
Spill a little where the new towns grow
I got my whole life hanging in a sack
Heading out into that wide world wide
You've got your locomotive sitting on your track
And I don't care which way I ride
I may not be coming back
Left a lady with a heart
All in pieces, come apart, raising steam
That engine up front must have a heart
Big enough for the both of us
Riding shotgun on the sunset, stare it in the eye
Rocking on my heels out to the west
Funny how the whole world, historically
Feels the urge to chase the sun to rest
We may not be coming back
Let me be your engineer
Have you smiling ear to ear, raising steam
And will you tell me how it feels
When you're up and rolling on your driving wheels?
I got my whole life hanging in a sack
Heading out into that wide world wide
I'll be your locomotive blowing off its stack
And I don't care which way I ride
I may not be coming back
Raising steam
Raising steam
Raising steam
I'm raising steam