Well, the first point to make is that this is, to all intents and purposes, an Ian Anderson solo record with the backing band he calls Jethro Tull. Now whether you take Anderson at his word and accept that he wanted this incarnation to have a studio release legacy, or you take the cynical view that a Tull record will always sell more than an Anderson record (and there is previous here, witnessed by the insistence of Chrysalis to release A as a Tull record in 1980 when it was originally planned as a solo release) is up to you. Personally, as an old cynic, I take the moolah view.

Anderson does not sing a great deal on this record. He talks a lot. Actually, he talks rather endlessly, and it has to be said that at times it somewhat grates. This album would have benefited a lot from more extended instrumental pieces. The band he has are certainly all very accomplished musicians. okay, not Barre’s or Barlow’s, but accomplished, and I especially like the keyboards by John O’Hara which add some nice atmosphere throughout. I saw Tull at The Garden Party supporting Marillion in 1986, and owing to the fact he had just recovered from throat surgery, the set was almost exclusively instrumental, and it rocked as well.

The album is a mixed bag musically, but certainly on a couple of tracks there are attempts to hark back to my favourite Tull era, namely the folk rock period from Songs From The Wood to Stormwatch. This is especially apparent on Jacob’s Tales, the opener, and Three Loves, Three. Whilst not a concept album, lyrically the album deals with religion, and The Bible in particular, and students of Anderson’s words will remember well the cynicism displayed in Aqualung all those years ago. This album, though, is no repeat of that fine work. On Mine Is The Mountain, the lyrics are very much “in your face”, with no trace of the whimsy which made Anderson’s name. The God in this track is a rather vengeful and demanding deity and the best element of this track is the rather lovely instrumental passage mid way through. This is repeated in Barren Beth, Wild Desert John which recounts the tale of Elizabeth bearing child at an advanced age as recounted in Luke Chapter 1. As subtle as a (Thick As A) brick. There are some pretty dull folksy moments elsewhere, for example in Sad City Sisters, and it probably is no accident that the dullest tracks feature heavy use of the accordion. Where Did Saturday Go? is simply soporific.

Of course, not all of it is bad. The title track ups the pace quite radically, and is all the better for it. I also really like Shoshana Sleeping, which recounts the tale of a maiden who is falsely accused of vice after refusing the advances of two rogues who are subsequently put to death following the intervention of the prophet Daniel.

However, by the time I get to In Brief Visitation and album closer The Fishermen of Ephesus, I have rather lost interest, I am afraid.

Over the years, I have loved much of the band’s output. SFTW, Heavy Horses, and Aqualung especially are still regular players in Lazland. The Zealot Gene, however, will certainly join Under Wraps, Too Old to Rock & Roll, and Catfish Rising as albums I will simply never play. A shame, but I might add that the past couple of years have not been kind to our 70’s faves. The Quest, anyone?