What does it mean when, after having listened to The Secret Language Of Birds disc only once (and listening to other stuff after it), I start dreaming about it? Not just dreaming about my review of it, but dreaming of it. Of listening to it, and Ian Anderson is there…and yet, I am of course, also thinking about my review of it. Of how I'm not going to quite say enough about it, or that maybe I will tell you too much, leaving nothing for you to explore. Never before have I dreamt about an album like this. Sure, I've been listening to stuff and fallen asleep (not because of the material) and find when I get in a half-awake/half-asleep state I write lushly full reviews - words I cannot remember the next morning, but for the sense of them. But here, the effect that music has stays with me, putting me in warm, comfortable, relaxed place - a place of summer colours (yellow, orange, green, lime) and summer fruit. So anyway, I'm awake now and listening to the beautiful disk by Jethro Tull mainman Ian Anderson. Maybe it has something to do with the album cover, but the music here is coloured in citrus - lemon, lime, orange, tangerine… Anderson's flute is light and breezy, floating through the various passages of various songs like…well, like a bird on the wing. His is the secret language of birds - communicating just as much in a trill as in a syllable. Meaning, Anderson is at his usual poetic ways, painting vivid word pictures in both broad and fine strokes. Along with flute, Anderson plays acoustic guitar, bouzouki, mandolin, piccolo, and percussion. Andrew Giddings (his bandmate in Tull) accompanies Anderson on accordion, piano, organ, marimba, keys, and orchestral sounds. The sound is rounded out by the following on drums: Gerry Conway (ex-Tull member), Darren Mooney, and James Duncan, plus current Tull guitarist Martin Barre. We were treated to a sample of this album on the J-Tull Dot.com release last year. The title track is lovely and lyrical, full of warmth…I'd say with a sweet come on from Anderson, "Stay with me and learn the secret language of birds." But this is no mere come on; it's more a declaration of love. At first glance, "The Little Flower Girl" might come across as a little disturbing…well, actually it made me think of "Aqualung" a bit in it's imagery. But when you read Anderson's notes at the end of the booklet, it all becomes much clearer. I'm not familiar with Sir William Russell Flint, but from what I gather from Anderson's notes, this track is his vision of the story behind the Flint watercolour (of the same name as the song's title?). "Postcard Day" is all warm summer breezes; bright, clear skies, where the sun makes deep shadows, and shines blindingly on white, plastic outdoor furniture. "A Better Moon" sounds vaguely reminiscent of an earlier Jethro Tull piece, at least I think it's Tull…it's quite elusive so I'm not quite sure. The textures used throughout are warm, owing to acoustic nature of them music and richness of Anderson's voice, and are folk in nature, if not vaguely Celtic, though with tracks like "Postcard Day" the setting is far from the dense woods or land of faery associated with Celtic music. Of course, this is also overt in "The Habanero Reel," as it moves enough to make you think of dancing, though the setting here, again, isn't the lush green of the forest, but rather some "dryer" coastal city (I'm thinking Mexico or South America somewhere). "Boris Dancing" weaves both the Celtic feel of the rest of the album with an admixture of middle-eastern and…well obviously what we associate with Russian music - sort of a twisting arrangement. Well, I'm off have a cool drink, sit on my patio with this playing, and listen to the secret language of birds. But, before I go, there are two bonus tracks here (unlisted) - one is from Ian Anderson's earlier solo disk Divinities, the other is a new version of a Tull classic…that I'll leave to you to discover. Reviewed by: John 'Bo Bo' Bollenberg |
