Thick as Brick earns a coveted place on the Mellotron Sounds 50 Albums List not because it’s so important musically (even though it is) or because I love it (even though I do), but more because of what it represents.

A near-45 minute epic, all one singular track, the arrangement transitions often, from acoustic elements to electric, organs to flutes, guitars to xylophones, putting to tape one of the most committed concept albums ever recorded—one, we’d only find out later, is actually a satire.

Straight from the horse’s mouth (the horse is Tull frontman Ian Anderson):

“Thick as a Brick was written as a spoof, as a send-up of a concept album. The record preceding it, Aqualung, had been viewed by some critics as a concept album, which I disagreed with…. So I said, “OK, let’s give them the mother of all concept albums.” An integral part of that was to pretend the lyrics had been written by an eight-year-old boy, a preposterous, sort of precocious child who came up with these convoluted and vague-sounding lyrics all set to a continuous flow of music. It was a lot of fun to do. I wasn’t trying to deceive people. I just thought everybody would get the gag.”

So that explains the lyrics*. But Thick as a Brick is a musical spoof the same way Edgar Wright’s movies (Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, Scott Pilgrim) are cinematic ones—which is to say, it really isn’t.

*Some lyrics:

“So! Where the hell was Biggles when you needed him last Saturday?
And where were all the sportsmen who always pulled you through?
They’re all resting down in Cornwall –
writing up their memoirs for a paperback edition
of the Boy Scout Manual”

Most people would be lying if, through all of the movements, the flute-work and drawn-out instrumentals, they told you this album never feels bombastic. I’ll be the first to admit, at times the bridges get a bit long and the passages a bit redundant. But where a lot of satires set out to strictly mock, Thick as Brick—the same as Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz or Scott Pilgrim—is sort of co-conscious, allowing itself the space to get lost in the form that it’s supposedly making fun of. This kind of send-up isn’t biting or elitist. It’s a hat-tip, with the satirist in full appreciation of what gives its subject power in the first place.

Edgar Wright doesn’t hate zombie movies or action movies or comics/video games, he loves them. It’s just that he’s smart enough to acknowledge, and play off of, their clichés. That’s what makes his films worth watching and not all snickers and nudges. I’d bet there’s a part of Ian Anderson that feels the same away about prog, even if he does resent the classification.

I’ve always seen directors like Edgar Wright as sort of kids in candy stores. With every topic he centers his films around, with every frame, you can see a grown-up giddiness peaking through the seams, thrilled just to be there, a part of the magic he’s been so in awe of since he was a kid. And I truly believe that capturing and contributing to that magic is why he, and in turn, Jethro Tull, do what they do. The genre doesn’t matter; these guys are magicians, pushing the boundaries of their respective mediums to advance the affect of the greater “music/film experience.” And even if they’re doing it with a smirk, each are creating/have created media worth paying attention to. Because it’s genuinely passionate.

You can’t fake art. Force it and people will notice, even hate you for it. So in the end Thick as a Brick really does do serious work, in contributing to the “progressive rock” concept catalog and in being flat-out volatile. Anderson’s voice is sweet when it wants to be, and the band can be pretty when it feels like it, but when that first transition comes, you realize that you’ve just been strapped in for a ride you weren’t anticipating. Then, somehow, it’s 45 minutes later and you’re right back where you started and it all made perfect sense.

No matter what the inspiration, it’s impossible not to respect a piece that goes this far, takes this many chances. It’s this ownership over the form that fascinates me about musicians and directors, the claiming of a piece of “theirs,” taking a leap that guarantees that at a project’s end one person (or small group of people) will take full credit for success the same as they will blame for failure. With that in mind, it seems ridiculous for showmen like Jethro Tull to decide on a “satire” and not lace it with heart and honest ambition. If Thick as a Brick is really joke, I think maybe Anderson and the guys got distracted in the set-up. The punchline, then, would have to be the realization that they’d actually made a beautiful, complex and memorable record.

It isn’t funny ha-ha but, hey—they’re laughing.
 
 
Listen/Watch (if only to see crazy Ian Anderson in action):

“Thick as a Brick” (live, abridged), Part I

Honorable Mention: Ayreon – The Human Equation

Speaking of ambition, Ayreon’s The Human Equation has got to be one of the most unique albums I’ve ever heard. To this day, I couldn’t honestly tell you how much I “love” the piece, but as a longer, crazier, more varied and more obsessively committed example of what a contemporary concept album can be, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t get under my skin.

Over the top, 2 discs and not in any way for everyone, The Human Equation is really more a musical than a “concept.” It’s about a man who’s slipped into a coma and is digging through his past in order to find a little peace. But here’s the kicker: all of the emotions he’s sifting through are performed by guest musicians—Me is played by Dream Theater’s James Labrie, metal frontmen (Devin Townsend, Mikael Akerfeldt) sing Fear and Rage, a woman sings Love, there’s even an opera singer playing the part of Pride.

And so there’s a real “prog community” element to it. I’ve joked before that all of these prog rock bands, it’s almost like they all live in the same neighborhood, see each other around town, make small talk and invite one another every now and then to collaborate. In the sphere of my current playlist, you can follow a pretty coherent web of exploration, what led to what and why: Dream Theater’s first keyboardist started bands called Chroma Key and OSI, the latter of which Porcupine Tree’s dummer performed with in one album. Porcupine Tree creator, Steven Wilson, has a couple other bands: No-Man and Blackfield. Dream Theater’s drummer performs in Neal Morse’s work, and Morse used to lead Spock’s Beard. Spock’s Beard’s drummer recently toured with Frost*. Morse and Portnoy also play together in Transatlantic, a band featuring the guitarist from the Flower Kings and the bassist from Marillion. Etc., etc.,….

To be sure, The Human Equation has it’s share of cheese and it sometimes doesn’t work. But it usually does, and it gets major points for originality. It’s an album almost impossible to describe. It’s insane. You just have to hear it.

Thought I’d share. Note attached after the break.

“Quick Update…

Yo friends, you guys good? All is good here…barring the 5 am panic attacks where the sky is falling that mysteriously dissapates at 9.

Rehearsals are going great, I’ll tell you what, the Ziltoid material is insane. After the DTP, I have a pretty solid feeling there will be a new chapter of Ziltoid…there’s some very interesting things going on in his ‘live’ world…I’ll keep you posted.

Addicted is on it’s way, and after listening to it to the point of nausea, I can safely say …It’s great. Some folks won’t like it, but then, the whole point of this ‘project’ is to give you 4 very different, yet complete unto themselves, musical experiences. There’s been a couple of songs released, that are actually not super indicative of the whole record…but again, I really, really dig this record, especially when I follow the lyrics. It’s a good sentiment.

I’m actually surprised it hasn’t leaked yet, crazy! At this point though, it’s got to be just around the corner, and when it does, check it out! If you like it, I’d really appreciate your support, if you don’t…at least you know without having to spend money. Finances suck and everyone’s struggling right now. There is no pressure to buy.

There’s lots of shows and 2 more albums (plus a box set) scheduled for next year. I’m the type of character who can’t start his ‘meatloaf’ until he finishes his ’salad’, so I can’t wait to finish Decon and the 4th album…that music has been around for years now and I don’t want to start the new Ziltoid till it’s done. Ziltoid was going to make an appearance on Decon, but he asked if he could do his own record when all this was finished, and we agreed that seeing the music sounds RIDICULOUS with the band playing it, we could probably take it to the moon for ‘episode 2′

There’s a few other things on the works, trying to get an acoustic, one man show together…getting ready for this first tour, which is us just getting on track, and an opportunity for me to get my feet wet with some good friends…(the other bands are full of good folks)…then hopefully Australia in March, and some cool things in Europe during the summer.

I had a weird week, so I decided to wait till I wasn’t sulking to write here again…we all have problems, and the last thing you need is some guitar player complaining to you. Life is what we make it, so life is great.

Peace guys, be HAPPY (or at least, make that the goal!)

d”

www.hevydevyforums.com

Awesome letter from Dev about the album: Click here

Set for release around November 20th.

The link takes you to YouTube, to a video Townsend doctored with his tunes superimposed over some video. And the footage, it’s good. It’s Townsend. But the music, the bigger and more traditional Townsend signature that he’s promised Addicted will be…let’s just say that’s Townsend, too–which is to say that it doesn’t disappoint.

The teaser’s a two-in-one, split in the middle to show off two separate tracks. And if you’re on Twitter, Townsend’s name is dvntownsend. So follow him, because I know you’re not just interested in the music, you also want to want to know when he starts a new cardio regimen and how it’s working for him. Well, I’ll tell you, get you caught up: right now he’s only on day three, and still, he says, he looks like a “sack of spuds.” See, the drama’s in finding out if he’ll stick with it, though. Get comfortable with the edge of your seats, guys, because, thanks to Twitter, that’s where you’re going to be spending most of your time. It is a wild, wild ride.

Oh, and get a load of this, too: A pre-production Addicted video, in studio, riff heavy, a solo. It sounds so DTB.

What’s most interesting is how often Townsend speaks about “clarification” in conjunction with his new set of records. It seems important to him that he clear up exactly who he is and was, and what his music means to him on a grander scale. And through THE DEVIN TOWNSEND PROJECT, it appears that he’ll be exploring all the different sides of himself, both past and present, sorting through them and looking to make a certain kind of peace. He talks, too, about his aspirations of someday making a symphony, as well as his thoughts on radio superstars NICKELBACK.

THE DEVIN TOWNSEND BAND
Accelerated Evolution
Inside Out
**** 4/5

I guess this is what they mean when they call someone a “tortured soul.“

For a lot of people, the name Devin Townsend might conjure up echoes of STRAPPING YOUNG LAD-esque double bass, Steve Vai power riffs or contorted-faced screaming. And those associations would all be warranted. But there’s a duality to his music that often gets overlooked, a huge gap between what he is in STRAPPING YOUNG LAD (an admitted side-project to him, an “outlet to freak out”), as opposed to how he submerges himself in ambient atmospherics in certain solo releases, like Devlab. But in the middle somewhere, between the over-subtlety of his quiet works and the “freak out” of his loud ones, is THE DEVIN TOWNSEND BAND, and albums like 2003’s Accelerated Evolution.

It’s exactly these multiple sides and shifting sensibilities of his that make an album like Accelerated Evolution so interesting. For the most part not a “proggy” record, it stays pretty structured. No crazy time shifts, no 15min epics. It’s diverse and layered, but it’s mainly a mood piece, a journey through the lows and highs of pain and memory, juxtaposing angry growling “Suffers!” lost in waves of power chords and noise, next to soft and pretty “I want to put my faith in you, babes,” where the vocals are a pivotal part of the melody, in line with it, not set against it in discord.

Although I’d probably have to argue that a few of his earlier releases, Terria and Ocean Machine, are “better” records, weightier and more impressive—Accelerated Evolution has a quality about it that almost makes it easier to listen to. Maybe it’s because it is more straight-forward and accessible—but the piece has got listenability, the potential to be a fall-back record whenever you’re feeling hard rock but not sure what to put in for a spin.

To say it’s smooth, though, is not at all to imply that its message is simple or its affect ordinary. The way the piece effortlessly combines complex musicianship with traditional song structures, anger and calm, a scream with a piercing but refined guitar solo, illustrates an impossible-to-articulate state of conflict, of constant ups and down, like the inside of a tragedy where you sift through the different parts of yourself and try to put them back together again. There are tracks like “Storm,” or the perfect “Deadhead,” that play like an emotional struggle out from the bottom of something awful, scraping at the ceiling and just making out rays of sun above you–or sometimes not.

“I’m starting to feel OK,” Townsend writes. “But I’m wasted / And I’m failing / Oh, Tracy, please / Can’t you see? / It’s just me.”

The way his vocals grow higher and higher and progressively more strained in tracks like these feel like he’s fighting to break away from himself. Just listen to “Deadhead,” how it builds onto itself like a growing impatience, Townsend’s emotion-soaked vocals growing thinner and thinner until it feels as though his words might break just before it all finally releases, but without any real tonal relief. That says it all.

This is a piece about struggle, about being stuck in your head, feeling like you’re floating when all you want is to be grounded again. It’s about feeling powerless and angry—but savoring the flashes of peace, and even being hopeful. Townsend’s mastery of song structure, of building and releasing, is what drives the journey and makes it real. It may even catch you off guard, bring you back to a place you may have been before, to days spent listening to music to lose yourself—either in noise or past feelings.

Accelerated Evolution is a perfect middle-ground for Townsend, where he not only gives each of his many conflicting emotions an equal amount of play, but also never tries to compete with or overpower them. “I’m going to be so fucking sensitive but so intense,” he told Lollipop Magazine, “and be unafraid to be either.” And so joy turns to sorrow, turns to anger:

“Now the rain it comes, the rain it blurs the grey line

The grey line, the Greyhound home

…So give in to the heat of the moment

Give in to the pain”

This is what adult angst sounds like.

Ok, maybe I’m exaggerating a bit with that (Townsend would scoff at the association with Sixpence). But you get the idea.

No matter what he says to pull the rug of preconceptions out from under his fans, though, there’s always an underlying tone of excitement and giddyness to his statements. And that’s never been more true than this with this series, being that he’s recently quit all drugs and alcohol, and is “re-learning” how to make music now without them.

Even though Townsend’s never shyed away from experimentation, it’s easy to tell from his statements about the DEVIN TOWNSDN PROJECT that this one is different. This is a challenge for him. He’s testing himself, seeing how far he can go, what he can try, how he can manipulate the form and make himself feel a whole different breed of release. In Ki, the first piece of the set–a “subtle, severe album,” he calls it–Townsend sets out to prove that “the whisper is louder than the roar.” It’s about control, he says, “a little a.m radio playing in the corner,” warning that many fans of his heavier work may even be underwhelmed by it. It’s the beginning of the story, a reintroduction of self. And after it, the albums get heavier, then heavier, then finally conclude (in what I’m guessing will be a perfect moment of peace, a quiet declaration of acceptance and self-assertion).

Whether Townsend is making an album about a coffee-disgruntled alien-attack like he did in Ziltoid the Omniscient, or if he’s painting layered and beautiful soundscapes like in Terria or Ocean Machine, he’s always trying something new, never settling. And THE DEVIN TOWNSEND PROJECT promises to be an epic. It seems at once brutally serious and smirkingly joyous (check out the teaser and listen for the Elvis riffing), still retaining that Townsend humor that promises to never take itself too seriously (see Ziltoid; see the “skullet,” Devin’s old haircut).

Each album in the series will have its own band that he hand-picked to best capture the tone of the separate pieces. There will be a string section, there will be screaming, there will be distortion-less guitar lines, ambience, grace, and, undoubtedly, there will be a renewed sense of music-magic and creative vigor.

He’s definitely working the gamut here. You may not end up loving every color in the spectrum, but I’m sure the rainbow will be humbling.

“Please enjoy,” Townsend writes. “It’s good to be back.”

God yes.