fires at midnight

I've spoken at length about this topic before, and I don't intend to repeat myself. But I'm going to say a few words in defense of my friend Jethro. 

Jethro Tull, that is.

I just downloaded their 1977 album Songs from the Wood from iTunes, and it is glorious.

Time was, I'd go to a music store (say Barnes & Noble, or Best Buy when they still had CDs). I'd pick a band I liked and listen to a few of the sample tunes on the provided headphones. If I found an album that had at least two songs I loved right away, I'd buy the album, take it home, and listen to it all the way through. Usually, on the second or third play-through, I'd start finding other tunes that I liked. Five or six of them, usually. Maybe I wouldn't like them as much as the original pair that had caught my ear, but they'd still be listenable. Customarily there'd be one or two tracks that I just couldn't stand, and I'd always skip over them on subsequent play-throughs.

I knew I had a winner in Songs from the Wood when every single solitary track tickled the pleasure centers in my brain. Every one. I've already gushed about this on Facebook, but every song on that album is a gem, unique and mellifluous and utterly addictive. It's only ten tracks, including the bonus items, but I've never spent $9.99 more wisely. I just can't get enough of that wonderful, wacky bard Ian Anderson and his restless flute. I was already familiar with the title track and "The Whistler," but they withstand the test of time. My particular favorites from the album are "Jack in the Green," "Cup of Wonder," "Fire at Midnight," and "Beltane."

"Fire at Midnight" is a particular love of mine due to its evocative lyrics. Listening to it, you can just feel the damp chill outside the door of your cottage, the warm crackle of the fire, the rich gold of the hot toddy on the mantlepiece, the soft rugs and wood floor beneath your feet. It just makes you think of cold spring nights and mist and quiet evenings and cheery conversations and delicious drinks and all the lovely intangibles that go with them.

Oh yes. I believe in fires at midnight. Here, I'll show you:

Yes, I added text to this picture, but the original image isn't mine. Boo-yah.

If you want my advice, go to YouTube (or better yet, iTunes) and look up that song. "Fire at Midnight" by Jethro Tull. Give it a listen. Click on the image I've provided (to expand it to full size) and stare at it while the music plays. You'll wonder why all your day's stress just vanished in smoke. I dare you not to make yourself a hot toddy or go stargazing or pen a few romantic verses afterward.

Double-dare you.