Jethro Tull “Songs From the Wood” released 40 years ago, February 11th, 1977. Subtitled “With kitchen prose, gutter rhymes and divers,” Songs From the Wood combined traditional and pagan/medieval English imagery and instruments (elven sprites cavorting through the countryside, whistling pan flutes, lutes, etc) with hard prog rock sensibilities, marking a departure for Jethro Tull (except for the flute part of course). It was bands like Jethro Tull and albums like this one, full of ridiculous complexity that probably required a Master’s in classical music theory, that 70′s punk rock rebelled against. BUT! I love Jethro Tull and love Songs From the Wood: it speaks to my inner Lord of the Rings/Mists of Avalon geek. The promotional material for the album stated, “Jethro Tull present Songs From The Wood. A new album of Old Magic. Songs From The Wood. It’s inspired by the thought that perhaps nature isn’t as gentle as we’d like to believe. And it takes as its theme the natural and supernatural inhabitants of the woodlands of old England. Warm and friendly, harsh and bitter by turns, it includes ’Ring Out, Solstice Bells’ as well as Tull’s new single ‘The Whistler’ and seven other songs. Find a quiet spot and listen to it soon.“

I personally didn’t find that quiet spot until around 1991 or so when my college roommate and I had our first apartment. Her boyfriend was spending a year abroad studying in London and we were tasked with keeping his vinyl collection safe for the year – he was a Dead Head and prog/classic rock fiend and this record was part of the stack of vinyl that resided at 204 N. Pinckney in Madison. We threw some epic parties during our time in that apartment and during one in particular I remember my friend Eric, having smoked a copious amount of weed, dancing and singing along to  “Velvet Green” and “The Whistler,” pipe in hand. (Those two songs are my favorites.) Eric is not a big guy and in that moment – he may have even been wearing green – I could have sworn we’d transported a particularly groovy dope-smoking woodland elf onto the fourth floor of a shitty student apartment building. It was amazing.

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.