Jethro Tull @ The State Theatre, Thursday April 28

Jethro Tull were just one of the many grey pilgrim acts putting on post-Bluesfest sideshows as part of their nostalgia tours tonight. One woman, who had bought tickets to both tonight’s show and that of Mr Robert Zimmerman, was anxiously trying to offload one or the other in the queue, while simultaneously trying to decide which to use. "Keep the Tull", we advised, it probably being the last chance to catch them before Ian Anderson’s voice disintegrates completely and he’s forced to retire.  Not that he’ll be on the streets anytime soon, what with cluey investments in fish farms ensuring he’ll be rolling in it once global ocean stocks collapse.

The Tull milked it for all they’re worth, with a still spry, bandy-legged Anderson capering around the stage with as much energy as might have been exhibited back in the band’s heyday – although at 63, the move from tights and codpiece to black jeans was a welcome one. Less welcome was the mimed flute masturbation; what might’ve been risque in 1969 now seems just a little… unnecessary. That said, half the entertainment tonight was in enjoying Anderson’s antics, as he played to the expectations of his audience with a knowing twinkle (although the fact that he’s also a genuinely superb flautist was occasionally overshadowed by his exaggerated showmanship). There was an element of musical history lesson at work in the setlist, with Anderson’s chatty interludes placing each song in context. Barely playing any material post-1974, songs from each of the group’s major releases from their debut to that point were featured, with highlights including ‘Thick As A Brick’ and ‘Farm Freeway’ – though it was the chunky riff of ‘Aqualung’ that remained stuck in our heads for the ensuing 36 hours.

To be honest though, it became difficult not to drift off in the second half. While innovative for their time, the group’s proggier excesses began to seem rather dull after a while, with everything fading together into a blur of angular hooks. Not that a predominantly baby boomer audience minded too much, one gentleman in particular growing so agitated with excitement that rhythmically thrashing around in his seat proved inadequate in expressing his passion of the moment, rising during the encore to throw himself around the front centre aisle. Good times.