By a sheer coincidence when I had gotten around to considering the new Jethro Tull album, I was contacted by Pat Rowbottom, founding member of Cold Flame, billed as the UK’s leading Jethro Tull tribute band, who have released their sixteenth studio album, A Circus in Paradise. The album is original material, not Tull covers, although the influence, somewhat obviously, is strong in parts. I say in parts, because there is much more here and I think this is a strong mix of original prog, classic, and blues rock, with some interesting twists along the way.
Before we get into the history of the band and the review of the music itself, a word about the view of tribute acts from Lazland. It is fair to say there is a fair bit of snobbery abound in some progressive rock circles regarding such acts. Indeed, I do seem to vaguely recall making disparaging remarks myself about the Australian Pink Floyd a number of years ago before being taken to see them in 2000 at Narberth Queen’s Hall (they hadn’t broken into the stadia circuit then) and being extremely impressed with what I saw and heard. Even better, earlier this year we supported our local theatre in Carmarthen by seeing UK Pink Floyd Experience (which I reviewed) and a tribute to Marc Bolan & T Rex, namely T.Rextasy (which I didn’t review). Not only were both very good fun, but they were also musically extremely strong, and therein lies the attraction for me. It isn’t just the fact that we can’t see many of our heroes now owing to old age or shuffling off this mortal coil, for these ears that wouldn’t be sufficient reason to go if they weren’t any good. And they are. Coming to Cold Flame, what immediately strikes you about the band is how good they are, and how well this album is performed and produced.
They have been about since 1984 and hail from Derbyshire in the UK. A Circus in Paradise, born out of the pandemic period, is a progressive rock album, as opposed to the feel of its predecessor album, Waiting for God. As is common these days, but no less impressive to this relative technophobe, much of this work was produced between the protagonists sharing digital files of material created at home. It was brought together by sound engineer, Neil Scales, and a very good job he has done as well. Lyrically, the album is a very political one, with words and thoughts which chime with me, dealing with themes of political, economic, social, climate, and other deep changes ongoing in modern society. The album was produced in collaboration with West Yorkshire independent label, Starring Records (Scales being the chief honcho).
The musicians are Rowbottom who is the main writer and is the vocalist and bass guitarist; Phil Marke on drums and spoken words; Mark Parkinson who (very bravely) takes on the flute part for the band; Joe Orban on keyboards and guitars; Adam Hutchins on Hammond, piano, and piano accordion. Other musicians are returning original band member, David Conner on guitars, Paul Newland on violin, long-term, but Poland based, guitarist Simon Dowling, guitarist Dan Hall, saxophonists Guy Smith & Jo Bircher, French guitarist (performing with the band live over there) Claude Paravano, Jon Peacock on trumpet, and, lastly, Scales himself adding multi-instrumental parts. Quite a cast, then.
So, to the music. We open with Passport to Oblivion, an instrumental which has the impact of climate change and the mass migration we are witnessing (and not dealing with well or compassionately with). The collective evokes the desolation of the barren middle east landscape perfectly, and without wishing to single anybody out, Parkinson really does provide for an exceptional flautist, worthy of the great man himself. Hutchins gives us a throwback to days of yore on the Hammond, and the guitar riffs are supported by a thundering rhythm section. The video of this is embedded below and will hopefully allow you all to hear just how impressive this band are and want to explore them further.
As with me, that track on its own should whet your appetite for more – original, not in any way, shape, or form, derivative and simply very good.
It is followed by The Deep Blue, a very intelligent song referencing the tales spun by politicians to UK fishermen extolling the paradise which would arrive after Brexit. Of course, they lied. The men themselves know no better than the hard life and work they live out there in the sea and have been manipulated by men in suits for as long as such men have made decisions (I am old enough to remember the Cod Wars in the 1970’s, which can be seen as a direct precursor of the arguments used during Brexit). Musically, this is an epic track lasting fourteen and a half minutes. It never once loses your interest from the opening gulls and bells to the closing notes. Orban opens with some distinctive keyboards, which remind me of the fine music utilised by Trewavas & Blackwood in the supreme Edison’s Children opus, The Disturbance Fields. When the band enter the fray, the music is the type of Tull urgency missing from the “parent” band since Crest of a Knave, and certainly the intensity and equality of instruments in the mix is something which would have been more than welcome on RökFlöte. The track mixes some lovely pastoral moments, especially with Orban’s piano and synths. Rowbottom produces some fine bass riffs, and when he introduces himself vocally, he is no slouch at all, with a particularly feeling evocation of the fishermen knowing nothing more than their craft. Dowling comes out with some fine electric guitar bursts and keeps the track racing along with the rhythm section on his acoustic guitar. Halfway in, the freneticism slows briefly with a lush short passage before the band rock out fully in a joyous noise, all protagonists coming to the fore in turns, and you really can close your eyes and imagine that you are listening to them in a live setting with an extended, blues-infused jam. The closing passage is urgent with a fine guitar riff rising above the cracking pace of the band beneath before a denouement lets you down gently. This is a fine piece of music.
The title track follows. It is thematically dark, talking about corruption, our predilection to continue destroying ourselves, and the blurred distinction between truth and lies not merely from politicians, but also many sections of the media. Personally, I wish mankind would start to grow up and mature beyond its perpetual adolescent phase, but I despair of us doing so. The track starts with a circus fanfare before the band throw themselves into the fray with urgency. I really like the addition of Peacock’s trumpet and Bircher’s sax into the mix – the smoky passage three minutes in with these two and the rumbling bass riff is wonderful, and this is matched by the closing section. There is, I think, a single capable of airplay in here, and it is a strong unique track.
Eye of the Storm is up next. This is a climate change song, which opens in a down and dirty style with a wonderfully bleak sax intro by Smith against the weather-beaten backdrop. There are some deceptively simple synths backing this up. The song is another epic-length and you do sit up and take notice when the main piece is introduced by a delicate flute solo and acoustic guitar, with an understated bassline beneath. It is, of course, the calm before the storm, that almost deathly calm before the death of nature’s passion, ever more intense now owing to our activities, and the pre-storm arrives four minutes in, with a sudden switch in tone and noise from the flute and riffs under this. Rowbottom is impressive as he tells the tempest’s story vocally and this is a toe-tapping rock track. There follows the most delicious sax solo by Smith which is followed by the band playing out the actual storm with some crunching riffs and the flute swirling above it all. The sax plays mournfully after the storm as the devastation becomes clear.
Lost or Found is the shortest track on the album. It is a song which talks about the invasion of Ukraine by Putin and, as ever, the innocent who suffer the most. There is some very evocative acoustic work by Paravano and piano work by Hutchins on a blues number at its heart. I really like this piece, which I have embedded below. Deceptively simple but telling a very important story very well.
It is followed by Last Flight, and there is another video produced by the band to see below. It is a good folk rock track with some fine mandolin work by Scales especially. Get in touch with your local radio DJ and get him/her to put this on their show. I do find the contrasting vocals between Rowbottom & Marke interesting.
Manifesto is a mini epic at just over eight minutes. I identify with this song lyrically more than all others. I have always been a political animal. Still am, but studiously neutral now because, as with Rowbottom, the more you take notice of what these people are saying, the more you despair that they can say anything of note or nuance at all. The tone of the track is rightly angry, and it races along at a fair old pace, and features some wonderfully dystopian chords by Connor & Paravano who work well together. Politicians harm your mind – don’t I know it after a lifetime in public service! The closing passage is wonderfully diverse in its execution, and fans of Mark Kelly’s early work with Marillion will be particularly impressed with Orban’s racing synths.
The penultimate track is 11th Hour, another epic over eleven hours in length, and warns us, rightly, that unless we change, we are in serious danger of a calamity. The piano accordion lends a folk sense, but is interestingly set against some very stark keyboards, and then the band provide a more traditional rocker for us. Some of the organ work carries us back to classic Lord-era Purple, whilst there is just short of four minutes in a most delightful passage of a jazz infused piano set against mandolin and percussion which then segues into a blues orientated segment, and the effect is very welcome, and is repeated against a pulsing bassline later. In effect, we have three songs in one here, as after the repeat we get a far darker segment with strings and noises that is perhaps too short before the main classic rock theme reasserts itself. Dowling does provide a supreme guitar riff to close this off, and the track closes with an expansive synth which could easily have appeared on early Asia.
The album closes with Tomorrow Was Another Day, a track which tells the story of the Covid-19 pandemic, when we were all trying desperately to make sense of the sometimes-senseless, but always terrifying, messages, statistics, and instructions we were bombarded with. More than all else here, this track has the feel of a traditional Tull tune, certainly the opening reminding one of the early 80’s incarnation.
The album is available at http://www.coldflame.com/ and I for one recommend it. A thoroughly enjoyable album, which in the “double-header” of Tull related material reviewed on this website tonight clearly wins my vote.