- Rupi's Dance
Name = Rupi's Dance
Artist = Ian Anderson
August 19, 2003
Recorded = ??
Genre = Rock
Length = 55:50
RandM Records(UK) & Fuel 2000( USA)
Producer = Ian Anderson
Allmusicrating|3.5|5 [http://www.allmusic.com/cg/amg.dll?P=amg&sql=10:hm8j1va4zzxa link]
Last album = "
The Secret Language of Birds"
This album = "Rupi's Dance"
Next album = "
Ian Anderson Plays the Orchestral Jethro Tull"
"Rupi's Dance" (2003) is a solo album by Jethro Tull frontman
Ian Anderson. The album was released around the same timeas Jethro Tull guitarist
Martin Barre's new solo album, "Stage Left".It also preceded Jethro Tull's album, The Jethro Tull Christmas Album.
# "Calliandra Shade (The Cappuccino Song)" – 5:02
# "Rupi’s Dance" – 3:00
# "Lost In Crowds" – 5:37
# "A Raft Of Penguins" – 3:34
# "A Week Of Moments" – 4:27
# "A Hand Of Thumbs" – 4:02
# "Eurology" – 3:14
# "Old Black Cat" – 3:40
# "Photo Shop" – 3:20
# "Pigeon Flying Over Berlin Zoo" – 4:18
# "Griminelli’s Lament" – 2:56
Ralitsa Vassileva" – 4:45
# "Two Short Planks" – 4:00
# "Birthday Card At Christmas" – 3:37
To each track, Anderson wrote an introduction:
*Calliandra Shade (The Cappuccino Song): "Café society is as old as the hills. Starbucks and its imitators are the coffee face of the new man in a hurry. Throughout the Old World, the laid-back, knowing residents of towns and villages suspend time in the post-luncheon long moment. Oh, well – the coffee’s only ever as good as the water it is made with. And the froth on top is the frilly knicker on a cheap tart’s bum. Funny old cup o’ tea, coffee..."
*Rupi’s Dance: "The sight of a dark-haired, sexy and alluring young female swaying and swishing to the sound of CNN quietly playing in the background never fails to captivate. Rupi was, at the time of writing this song, about 14 weeks old and a bit wobbly on her tiny feet and with not much of a tail yet to balance the bodily gyrations. Funny old girls, pussies cat..."
*Lost In Crowds: "I am terrible at drinks parties. I do my best and try to chat happily and meaningfully to complete strangers but something in my conversation seems to bother them. Too intense, perhaps? Too fond of talking at people instead of listening? Too condescending and patently bored with the whole thing? What the hell. I prefer the anonymity of being among the faceless crowds in airports, on downtown sidewalks and in the ubiquitous mall haven of tranquil and isolated suburbia. Funny old things, crowds..."
*A Raft Of Penguins: "Having worked, over these many years, with various orchestral forces from solo woodwind players through string quartets to the more-or-less symphony orchestra, I remain entranced at the differences and misconceptions present in the mutual understanding – or lack thereof – in such gatherings of minds and music. Who is the more terrified in such encounters? Me or them? I play a bit out of tune, out of time and read not a not a note of those Dead Sea Scrolls written so carefully upon the stave of life. But when the wind gets up and the music stand blows over, I can busk it with the best of them. It’s all in the head, you see. And in the heart. And that improvisational adventure is a mystery to many a first fiddler and his tribe. Here is an affectionate musing on the scary delights of fronting an orchestra in the face of a paying public. Funny old birds, penguins..."
*A Week Of Moments: "Vacations for me are a mercifully short excuse for getting away from the rat race to find only that the stress of yet more hotels, screaming pool children and fellow guests from Hades make for a mixed and dubious week’s pleasure. So here is my imagined idyllic, romantic holiday for two. Don’t tell Shona – she might hold me to this. Funny old chap, holidays..."
*A Hand Of Thumbs: "An imagined meeting with seductive stranger, glimpsed across yet another crowded room. Must try to practise these social skills. Must try to do better. Must try to be more confident. Funny old business, fear of humiliating failure..."
*Eurology: "Power-walking down London’s Baker Street in rush-hour some months ago, I found myself humming this tune, bestowed upon me by the Euro-Gods – or, at least, their angels-in-waiting. Having popped in to the nearest Sony Centre to purchase a digital “dictaphone” of the cheapest variety, I repaired to the local Indian restaurant and furtively muttered into the new device the melodic bones of this eclectic and varied piece, between munches of poppadom and vindaloo. Well, you could forget it by the time you got home, couldn’t you? Bet you wish I had. I was trying to explain this piece to a journalist as being a pun on the study of the urinary tract and its diseases when he asked me if it was difficult to play. “No, it’s a piece of piss, actually”, I offered. Funny old things, Euro-tunes..."
*Old Black Cat: "For twelve years I enjoyed the good company of a pretty average, unexceptional old moggy by the name of Mauser. He was so-called after the German armament company of the same name but Deutsche-slang suggests his name might also liberally translate as “Shagger” – quite inappropriate since he was de-balled and disarrayed as a young sir. However, he may have long considered eunuch meanderings of the third kind. Who knows? He died of liver cancer quickly and painlessly just before Christmas and I wrote the song in the hours after the go-to-sleep-now needle went in. Funny old thing, sentimentality..."
*Photo Shop: "Just across the street from London’s Paddington Station, is a small photo shop where I have occasionally taken in some film for developing. The voyeuristic delights (and horrors) of processing the customers’ holiday snaps must be a poor substitute for the chance to leave cold and rainy old Paddington for the balmier climes of foreign parts. And some of those foreign parts, in all their gynaecological detail, doubtless show up in the work load from time to time. Oh, well: brightens up a drab day doesn’t it? And most of the snaps get stuck in a bottom drawer and forgotten; better remembered, perhaps, by the photo processor than the picture-taker. Think about it when next you drop off the roll of film with the bared buttocks of Auntie Maude by the swimming pool. Funny old waste of trees, most holiday photos..."
*Pigeon Flying Over Berlin Zoo: "While I was going morning walk-about during a few hours off mid-German tour, I dropped in, as I usually do, to the calm and orderly Berlin Zoo to check out my little pals in the Cat Kingdom for the medium to small. On my way to the cat enclosure, I noticed a pigeon flying lazily over the other animals locked behind wires in their enclosures and thought, “Oh, to be free like that pigeon...” But then, would the antelope, the elephant and the flamingo really want the get-out-of-jail card after all? I wrote the song in my head – words and music, top to tail and went for a curry. Put in on mini-disc back at the hotel. Funny old things, zoos..."
*Griminelli’s Lament: "Andrea Griminelli is a famous Italian flautist who possesses good looks, Latin charm, worldliness, exceptional musicality and, temporarily, no girlfriend following a parting of ways. That is why I wrote for him this piece of music which we played together on some concerts with orchestras in Italy in 2002. It combines Celtic and Baroque influences to symbolise our separate musical and cultural backgrounds. Didn’t do a lot to cheer him up, really. I play both flute parts on this recording, as Andrea and James Galway both would have liked to perform the second flute part on the piece and I didn’t want to upset either of them. Now, I’ve probably upset both. Funny old lip-smackers, flute-players..."
*Not Ralitsa Vassileva: "As an inveterate watcher of CNN after each Tull show, I clamber, naked as a baby, on to the hotel bed to be with the young, and not-so-young ladies and gentlemen of Cable News Network as they fill me in on the daily events of this wicked world. Of course, Ralitsa (Bulgarian-born and educated journalist of the most professional and responsible sort) is a CNN International gal and therefore not viewable in the United States, but we see her over here in the UK in the rest of the world. The chattering classes love to pontificate on the ways and wiles of the world and I am no exception. This song is based on the memory of a temporary and slightly tipsy female dinner table companion who regaled me with the day’s news stories as if she was the author of all-that-was-great-and-happened-today. As if she could be the slick, tutored and elegant Ralitsa! Oh, Ralitsa of the careless dimple. Funny old things, CNN gals..."
*Two Short Planks: "When I was a short-trousered pre-teen schoolboy, I had an easy ride at primary school in Scotland. But, aged twelve, and having relocated to a more competitive environment at the North of England’s Blackpool Grammar School, the full horror of the regular examination process had me in a tizzy. Some subjects caused me great anguish and difficulty: Algebra, Trigonometry, Chemistry and some aspects of Physics brought on the jitters due to fear of loosened sphincter, hot flushes and migraine attacks. I decided that I was not academically blessed and took refuge in the strangely comforting notion that I must be naturally a bit stupid (as thick as two short planks). Of course, sufficiently relaxed and resigned to a distant and soon-to-be-forgotten acquaintance with academia, I quickly went on to rise to the top of the lead class and take all my exams successfully a year early! Funny old thing, school..."
* [http://www.progreviews.com/reviews/display.php?rev=ia-rd Ground And Sky]
* [http://www.progressiveworld.net/anderson3.html Progressive World review]
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