Steel Monkey

Hey Zoo Freaks, the Zoo Crew has got something with a bit of grit and a lot of history spinning for you right now. It is Steel Monkey by Jethro Tull, the opening track from their 1987 album Crest of a Knave. That one starts with a sequencer pulse that feels almost mechanical, then Martin Barre's guitar comes in hard and driving, like the band is reminding everyone they still know how to rock after a few years of electronic experiments. Ian Anderson later said the song was built around that sequencer riff and had no flute at all, calling it yet another atypical Jethro Tull number that somehow became a radio hit. After the mixed response to Under Wraps and a break forced by Anderson's throat surgery, they leaned back into electric guitar and a tougher edge, and this track was part of the push.

Anderson admitted he was fairly selfish about the album, handling most of the writing and arranging himself without inviting much creative input from the rest of the group. He said most of their records had actually been pretty democratic, but this time he wanted total charge. Martin Barre later recalled that a lot of things on Crest of a Knave were of his invention and that his input was greater than on any other album. They used drum programming instead of a live drummer on Steel Monkey and Raising Steam, and Anderson's singing came across more forceful once he recovered. The whole record got compared at times to Dire Straits because his voice sat lower after the surgery, though Anderson and Barre tried to steer clear of that sound on purpose by using different guitar pickups and pitching things higher.

The lyrics tell the story of a steel monkey, which is slang for the construction workers who bolt steel beams on high-rise buildings. He calls himself a highrise jockey who is heaven-bound, doing the workboot shuffle and loosening brains from brawn. He works in the thunder and the rain, works at his drinking and feels no pain, and has a low opinion of folks who just think or hustle instead of climbing three hundred feet above the ground. There is pride in the toughness and a quiet dig at the way cities and industrial areas keep getting overbuilt. Some listeners have noted how it captures an old-fashioned tough guy who has no interest in turning into the sensitive New Man that was fashionable around then. The UK twelve-inch single cover even played on the three wise monkeys idea, showing those little statues next to a grinning steel monkey in a hard hat with his arms raised.

Steel Monkey came out as the lead single on October 5, 1987, and the album followed in September. It brought a real bump in airplay, not just for this track but for others like Farm on the Freeway, Jump Start, Said She Was a Dancer, and Budapest. The vinyl version left off a couple of songs that showed up on the CD, and those extras later turned up as B-sides. The cover art was done by a heraldic artist, and the single sleeve was handled by art director John Pasche. Anderson said later that the album was pretty good with some solid tunes, though he did not think anyone would really call it hard rock or heavy metal. He figured it was just one of those moments.

That Grammy thing still gets talked about. In 1989 Crest of a Knave won Best Hard Rock/Heavy Metal Performance, beating out Metallica and a few others in a brand new category. Nobody saw it coming, least of all the band. Their people told them not to bother flying to the ceremony because Metallica was going to take it. Alice Cooper opened the envelope, there was a long pause, and then the room broke out laughing from pure shock. Metallica was right there ready to go on stage. The label later put out an ad with the joke that the flute is a heavy metal instrument. Anderson has said it was ridiculous they were even nominated, and the record company felt the same way. Still, the win stuck, and it remains one of those Grammy upsets people remember.

So how did this whole Jethro Tull outfit get rolling in the first place? Early in 1968 a group of young British musicians, coming from the ashes of various failed regional bands, gathered in Luton north of London. They were hungry, a bit broke, and modestly optimistic, held together by a shared love of the blues and an ear for other styles. They started picking up a small but enthusiastic following in pubs and clubs across Southern England. The real break came when they landed a Thursday night residency at London's Marquee Club in Wardour Street, Soho. Their booking agent, who had studied history, came up with the name Jethro Tull after an eighteenth-century English agricultural pioneer who invented the seed drill. It stuck because that was the name they were using the week the Marquee offer came through. Late that same year they released their first album, This Was, which was still pretty blues-oriented. From there they moved into more of their own sound with Stand Up and a string of singles, and the rest of the story unfolded from that foundation.

You can dig into more of the history and the album details on their official website at jethrotull.com, which includes a page on Crest of a Knave and the full story of how the band came together. Keep up with them on the official Facebook page, their Instagram, and over on X. There is also a large active group for fans on Facebook called Jethro Tull fans where people share stories, memories, and the ongoing love for the music.

If this kind of freeform album rock and the stories behind it is what keeps you tuned in, you are in the right place with the Zoo Crew on THE ZOO. We will keep spinning the deep cuts, the hits, and everything in between for you Zoo Freaks. Rock on out there.