Jethro Tull Living With The Past (2026)
Then there is the “past” of the title. The second disc (on the original double-CD set) gathers BBC radio sessions from 1968, 1971, 1978, and 1985. These are not polished outtakes; they are raw, immediate snapshots. The 1968 version of “A Song for Jeffrey” crackles with youthful blues-rock hunger, Anderson’s harmonica as sharp as his nascent sneer. The 1971 “Life Is a Long Song” is delicate and pastoral, while the 1978 band—featuring the late, great John Glascock on bass—tears into a monstrous “No Lullaby” that predicts the heaviness of metal. These tracks contextualize the live main event, showing how Tull’s primal force evolved into its progressive prime and then settled into a craftsman’s precision.
The core of the album is drawn from a 2001 show at London’s Hammersmith Apollo. By this point, the classic mid-70s lineup of Barre, Hammond, Barlow, and Evans was long gone. Anderson, ever the bandleader, had assembled a formidable new iteration: himself on flute, acoustic guitar, and vocals; the eternally underrated Martin Barre on electric guitar (the sole remaining rock from the Aqualung era); Doane Perry’s polyrhythmic drumming; Andrew Giddings on a cathedral’s worth of keyboards; and Jonathan Noyce on bass. This lineup had already proven its mettle on the preceding studio album, J-Tull Dot Com , and here they sound road-honed and telepathic. jethro tull living with the past
The true highlight is the centerpiece: a stunning, 11-minute rendition of “My God” from Aqualung . In Anderson’s hands, it’s no longer just a diatribe against organized religion; it’s a living, breathing jam vehicle. He duels with Giddings’ synth flutes and Barre’s razor-edged guitar, his own flute trilling manically as he hops on one leg—a theatrical signature that, on audio alone, translates as pure, urgent energy. The recording captures the room’s warmth, not sterile and over-dubbed, but alive with the slight reverb of the Apollo’s wood-paneled walls. Then there is the “past” of the title
In the sprawling discography of Jethro Tull—a catalog marked by progressive epics, folk-rock detours, and Ian Anderson’s curmudgeonly wit— Living with the Past (2002) occupies a unique, often overlooked space. It is not a studio album of new material, nor is it a typical “greatest hits” compilation. Instead, it’s a hybrid: a live album wrapped around a handful of BBC session relics, designed as a companion piece to a then-forthcoming DVD. But to dismiss it as a contractual obligation or a mere stopgap would be a mistake. Living with the Past serves as a vibrant, unvarnished testament to a band in its third decade, still capable of breathtaking musicianship and, more importantly, still having fun. The 1968 version of “A Song for Jeffrey”
What makes Living with the Past resonate is its title. This is not an album about nostalgia, about wishing for a bygone golden age. It is an album about living with the past—carrying it with you, honoring it, but not letting it pin you down. The 2001 band doesn’t try to replicate the 1971 recordings. They re-inhabit them. Anderson’s voice has grown gravelly and lived-in; his flute playing is more breathy, less pyrotechnic, but deeper in feeling. Barre plays solos that reference his younger self but wander into new modal territories.






