Neil Cowley Trio "The Face of Mount Molehill"

Neil Cowley Trio

The Face of Mount Molehill

Naim Jazz

January 23^rd 2012

In these times of throwaway pop strumpets and vacuous candy-coated marketing strategies dressed up as entertainment, it might come as a surprise to find that the restoration of my faith in modern British music would come from an instrumental jazz power trio. Ok, well perhaps it doesn't, but still, hear this: Neil Cowley and his Trio are the best band you've never heard of. Their new record, “The Face of Mount Molehill” is already my favourite for best album of 2012, before the year's even started and, to top it all off, you'll have the best time you've ever had at a show sitting down if you go and watch them on their forthcoming Spring tour.

Enticed yet? You should be. This is Neil Cowley Trio's fourth album, following the progressively more excellent “Displaced”, “Loud.. Louder... Stop!” and “Radio Silence”. Once described as providing “jazz for Radiohead fans” by Mojo, here the band have expanded their sonic palette beyond the trio of Cowley's piano, the effervescent double bass of Richard Sadler, and Evan Jenkins' shape-shifting drums, to include strings which shimmer and pulse throughout the record, alongside flourishes of guitar effects and soundscapes, to produce an exhilirating whole.

Without doubt this is their bsst work, drawing on all the (many) strengths of their previous output, and taking each of them to their logical extreme. It's a joyous romp through three quarters of an hour of technical brilliance, allied to a playful creativity, sense of adventure and simple, sheer joy, which is so sadly lacking as 2011 draws to a close.

One of Cowley's triumphs is the way in which, melodically and harmonically, the songs are so daring, and yet, at all times, maintain an accessability which will have you moving multiple body parts just to keep up with the competing polyrhythms, twists and turns. Neil Cowley Trio may be the only bombastic jazz trio whose songs you'll hum in the shower. Shower jazz. Perhaps a new genre is born.

Usually, reviews are peppered with comments on particlar songs, outlining which are the best three or four perhaps, giving the impression that the other songs don't really offer much. In our suck it and see culture, arrowing in on the key moments of a record seems like the desired approach. To do so with “The Face of Mount Molehill” would be to miss out. This is a suite of songs to be consumend whole, a proper album in the true sense of the word. Right from the openeing, restrained washes of “Lament” through to the epic closing moments of 'La Porte' and 'Sirens Last Look Back' this is a record to listen to in one sitting, to sit back and marvel at. Justice would only be served if Neil Cowley Trio's Spring tour is a sold out portent of greater glories to come.

You owe it to yourself to pick this up on January 23^rd.

With thanks to Simon Drake at Naim and Kev Marston at Canonball PR

Lotte Kestner: Stolen (Album Review)

Lotte Kestner, or Anna-Lynne Williams, as she was named by her mother, has one of those voices. You know the sort. It's the kind of voice that stops you in your tracks. The kind of voice that can re-affirm your belief in the existence of a benevolent deity or higher power, one whose sole interest appears to be generously bestowing music of great power and beauty upon His (or her) thankful people. It's one of those voices that could sing the phone book, or a Chinese Takeaway menu, and it would have you swooning. Even the guys. Especially the guys.

After a long period of time providing ever-more haunting vocals for her band Trespassers William, and her exquisite debut solo record, China Mountain from a couple of years back, and while we wait for the debut record of her new project with Robert Gomez, Oromonde, which follows later this year, Anna-Lynne has released Stolen.

Stolen is a covers record. This is a brave move at the best of times. The majority of covers albums don't really work. Here is one, however, which does.

The songs here come from a variety of sources. Beginning with a haunting cover of Damien Jurado's "The Falling Snow" and taking in songs by artists as diverse as Bon Iver, Hayden, The National and Interpol among others, the sense emerges, of a unified, cohesive album, full of songs which sound like they were written for Lotte Kestner to sing them. This is not a disparate collection of random covers, this is a journey into the heartbeat of an artist and poet, who wrests every ounce of fragile emotion possible form each song she touches.

Building on the successful blueprint of China Mountain, this record is awash with delicate acoustic flourishes, delectable vocal harmonies, and occasional interjections from keys and synths which take Lotte Kestner's sound in a slightly fuller direction, without ever distracting from the central instrument: that once-in-a-lifetime voice.

Self-released on her own Saint-Loop Records, this is one album not to miss. Lotte Kestner is an artist worthy of our ears, our hearts, and our support.

Pick up this incredible record now from: http://www.saintlouprecords.com/merchandise

One man's pain as Barnet leather the Cobblers

It is midnight, as Haydon Spenceley sits at his keyboard. He’s had a tough week, one way or another, and he has work in the morning, but he cannot sleep. He cannot even countenance going to sleep.

One of the reasons, amongst the maelstrom which is keeping him from his land of slumber:

Northampton Town.

Northampton chuffing Town. 20 long years they’ve been one of very few constant companions through life, through its ups and downs, joys and sorrows. More often than not, they’ve been the cause of some of the biggest extremes of both.

On very few occasions during our marriage have the waters been so choppy as to make me question my commitment and seek the greener grass of other pastures, to succumb to the fluttering eye-lashes from rivals competing for my affection.

But tonight, as I look back on another disastrous day, in an increasingly miserable season, I tell you this, dear reader, I very nearly watched X Factor. That’s how bad it’s got.

And when my boys are toiling at the Don Valley on Tuesday night against Rotherham, will I be there? No, I sodding well will not. As of this moment I’d be happy if I never saw them again. Any of them.

“But Haydon”, you may be saying. “Aren’t Northampton those valient conquerers of Reading and Liverpool, those who brought joy to a nation as Roy’s Reds were put to the sword by a team of postmen and school teachers, barely 2 months ago?”

Why yes, they are, and tonight I feel like most of them wouldn’t get into the Royal Mail’s reserves, let alone our first team.

You see, Carling Cup exploits aside (and they were amazing, life-affirming nights) we’ve been rank bad for the vast majority of the rest of the season. A team of promising youngsters (Michael Jacobs and Liam Davis have been justifiably been attracting plaudits and covetous glances from higher up the League ladder for their performances) and experienced but diligent professionals such as Andy Holt, Leon Mckenzie and Kevin Thornton, should have been enough at least for a play-off challenge.

Certainly anyone who’s seen us when it all clicked (Brighton, Reading, Liverpool, and an all too small smattering of league games) couldn’t argue that the raw materials were missing. So, as we sit tonight, 22nd in League Two, 70th out of 72 in the Football League, one has to ask the question, what’s going on?

Today we surrendered an early lead against Barnet, who appeared to be bottom of the pile for a very good reason, lost Liam Davis to as clear a red card as you’ll ever see.

There were protestations from around me that the referee and linesman were getting back at us following last week’s referee wrongly sending off Abdul Osman and being proved wrong after his suspension was overturned.

What?!

We proceeded to not just lose, but be humiliated, 4-1 by a team who plainly wanted it more than us, and played to their strengths.

Kevin Gallen (yes, that one) and Steve Kabba (yes, really, that one) up front were a constant menace to our squalid excuse for a back four, and only an exceptional shot-stopping performance from Chris Dunn kept things to anything below a cricket score.

At times, the full back play of Grant Basey, and the wing play of Mark Marshall were too much for our defence, which seemed disorganised, lacking in effort and quality. The number of times Barnet sprang Gallen in behind our defence, so that he could lumber forward and then miss, aghast, became almost comical.

This is Barnet, who are, to be frank, not up to much, but who quite clearly worked us out, and ruthlessly exploited our (many) weaknesses with aplomb.
Barnet. We got stuffed by Barnet. And they deserved it. No, it doesn’t get any more palatable.

So, where from here? Well, up. Hopefully. Please? We can’t get much worse, that’s for sure.

Personally I have a few small aims for the next few weeks. Firstly, it’d be lovely if we could be disciplined enough to keep our full compliment on the pitch for 90 minutes. I’ve heard that makes it easier to win games. Secondly it’d be absolutely fabulous if players could play in the poisition which they were trained from childhood and signed to play in.

So, please, can we have a left back at left back, a right back at right back, some wingers on the wing, and so on? I know it’s a lot to ask, but if I have to watch any more full backs play on the wing and forwards playing in midfield, and so on and so on, I think I might give up. Surely if you have a round hole, the best way to fill it is with a round peg? No? Okay then.

We also have, in Michael Jacobs, one of the only players in League Two who terrifies defenders. Why is he not being used more? Unfathomable.

Thirdly, I want to see a change of manager. I’ve been a supporter of Ian Sampson’s since the day when it became obvious that the club’s ambition for the replacement of Stuart Gray (just over a year ago, after a defeat to, you guessed it, Barnet) did not extend to searching outside the doors of the
club.

It’s great to be managed by a club legend who cares so deeply that we succeed, but I fear that, if he stays, we will cease to be one of the 72 come May, and that cannot, it must not, happen.

Passion only gets you so far in football, and the increasing weight of results and performances, as well as our worrying recent disciplinary record, and rumours from within the dressing room, indicate that all is not well, and that Sammo is not the man to solve them. Sadly, he must go. The season is a dead loss already, but I can’t take many more days like today.

Were there any positives? Yes. Steve Guinan didn’t get near the bench, and we’re not Almeria.

Now where’s the number for that marriage counsellor?

Northampton Town's glorious, gigantic hangover

They only went and bloody did it. He doubted them, the scoundrel. And they only went and bloody won at Anfield. Haydon Spenceley wakes up and rubs his bleary eyes before putting fingers to keyboard about just how amazing last night was for him and thousands of other Northampton Town fans.

Unforeseen glory

So it’s the afternoon after the (very late) night before. Having written on Tuesday about Northampton’s chances of success last night, and then seen, with increasing disbelief and joy, the events which unfolded, I really had to write an “after” piece, if for no other reason than to acknowledge just how gloriously, blissfully, fantastically wrong I was.

By now, you’ll know that we won. Just stop for a second. Northampton, 17th in League Two, with one league win to their credit so far this year, and with a talented squad, but one which was severely stretched by injuries to key performers last night, won away to Liverpool. They did. It actually happened.

Not only that, but, for long periods, we outplayed them. Liverpool had one shot on target in 90 minutes, and we had seven corners to their two in that period. At Anfield. It did happen.

Not only that, but after the pandemonium of celebrating two goals, and seeing the potential heartbreak of being pegged back late in extra time, the lads held their nerve to win the penalty shootout and send our 5,000 strong support (more than we get at home, incidentally) into total, justified, once in a lifetime, absolutely sopping wet but we don’t care, delirium.

A chasm in cost

This was an epic night, a probably never to be repeated experience. For large swathes of a 120-minute contest, Liverpool’s collection of fringe first team players and supposedly up and coming talent were outplayed, taught a footballing lesson even. Only when the lively Pacheco and Jovanovic sought to create on pacy breaks did they really threaten, and in only two periods, during the first quarter, and the last five minutes of extra time when victory was sniffed, did they appear likely to win.

Many high-profile journalists have written about Liverpool today, commenting on the demise of the club, the malaise surrounding it, the shocking legacy left by Rafa Benitez, and Roy Hodgson’s poor utilising of it, and questioning his team selection.

But the fact remains, the starting eleven fielded by the home side last night cost £31million, while Northampton’s consisted entirely of free transfers and loanees, included two products of the club’s youth team, and several who have tasted non-league football in the last five years.

Different class

Michael Jacobs, scorer of the second goal, at the Kop, at eighteen, spent time at Nuneaton last season, as did Kevin Thornton, whose probing and passing put the work of the “enigmatic” Lucas to shame.

Abdul Osman, scorer of that majestic winning penalty, which capped a career-defining night’s work in which he controlled the midfield, moving them forward as a unit and defending doggedly, was signed from Gretna, having been spotted playing for Maidenhead.

Best of all, Courtney Herbert, whose twists and turns embarrassed Mark Wilson even before he caused the chaos which induced the second goal, was signed last season from Long Buckby, of the United Counties League. How many of you knew there was a place called Long Buckby, let alone that it had a football team? Honestly? You couldn’t make it up.

Tip-top tactics

It doesn’t matter how you dress this up, it shouldn’t have happened, but it did, and as much as Hodgson and his team of flops will be criticised for it, Ian Sampson, Malcolm Crosby and their coaching team deserve plenty of credit today.

Wins like this do indeed come around once in a lifetime, but this was no fluke. Tactically, the mobility of the five in midfield, their adaptability and workrate, was too much for Lucas and his partner Jay Spearing, who were pulled around the park on numerous occasions as they were outnumbered and outmanoeuvred.

The number of times Osman, and latterly substitute Nathaniel Wedderburn, found space in the middle of the park to pass the ball out wide to the wide quartet of John Johnson, Liam Davis, Paul Rodgers and Michael Jacobs, was indicative of Sampson and Crosby outthinking the stubborn but usually-astute Hodgson.

Kevin Thornton’s link-up with Billy Mckay, both of whom are not of great stature, seemed to befuddle Liverpool’s defensive axis of Daniel Agger and Sotirios Kyriakos. Watching the team grow in confidence as they stroked the ball around the lush Anfield turf, and their total commitment to the cause, typified by Andy Holt’s finest hour in a Cobblers shirt, and a splendid display from loan debutant Ben Tozer, I was proud to call this team my team.

Boom time

Certainly I never thought a win was attainable, as you would see from my previous post, but here was a team united, working for one another, and with skill and creativity aplenty to go with it.

The game could have been won in 90 minutes, just as it could in extra time, and the courage shown by the quintet of penalty takers at the end was almost superhuman. The scenes of celebration between players, staff and supporters at the end almost brought a tear to the eye, a display of incredulous unity which will live long in the memory.

Just as this was a horrific night for Liverpool, and clearly showed why the depth is not there for that great club to challenge English football’s upper echelons over the next few years, so this was a historic night for Northampton Town. A night to say “I was there”. Even my dad danced about at the end. That never happens.

Summing up

In the cold light of the glorious following day, some final points.

Firstly, League Two, while a very average league, contains a lot of quality. The reason players play at this level, often, is not through a lack of quality, but consistency. When things click into gear, even the most mighty of mighty (or previously most mighty of mighty) can be made to topple.

Secondly, there is nothing like watching your team, whatever level at which they play, win a game completely unexpectedly, and in such dramatic fashion. This is the beauty of lower league football, that the possibility of nights such as this even exists at all, and that it wonderfully, magisterially comes to pass once in a generation, or even in a lifetime. You can keep your Premier League.

Thirdly, it shouldn’t be underestimated what a fillip this might provide to our club, and even to the area. There’s already been much discussion of the financial ramifications of last night’s game, which appears to have enabled the club to break even this season, quite an achievement.

The road ahead

More than this, the press response to the game might induce a few more spectators to Sixfields, giving momentum to the team. On a wider point, people in the town centre were even smiling this morning. This is unusual!

And now what? Well, on Saturday comes the draw for round four. Another big draw would be lovely, but let’s not be greedy. Of course, there’s the small matter of Bradford at home, followed next Tuesday by the visit of Chesterfield to contend with now.

But whatever happens in the rest of this season, the events of September 22nd 2010 will forever be etched in the annals of Northampton Town.

An incredible story, an incredible night.

Northampton Town's big night out

To Liverpool supporters, even the most respectful, this week’s encounter with Northampton Town is perhaps just a fairly uninspiring home cup tie with lower-league fodder. To Cobblers fans, it is a rare luxurious break from the monotonous grind of League Two. Haydon Spenceley gives an insight into the mood among the Northampton support ahead of their most high-profile match for years.

So, tomorrow night (or, more than likely by the time you read this tonight, yesterday, the day before yesterday or one day last week) my team, Northampton Town, will find themselves stepping out on to the turf of Anfield to face Liverpool in a Carling Cup Third Round tie.

Unquestionably a plum tie, probably among the most interesting of the round, and inexplicably overlooked for TV coverage (we could have done with the money, just like every other team below 8th in the Premier League) the game is an all-too-rare opportunity for I, and circa 5,000 other Cobblers fans, to see our boys pit their wits against one of English football’s greats.

Liverpool will, I state with almost complete certainty, win, and win handsomely. Northampton Town and their fans, both ardent and fair-weather, may well return to the Midlands with their tails between their legs on the back of a severe hiding.

Even so, I should be excited, no? Or at least more excited than I feel on the eve of the big event.

You see, Town have done exceptionally to reach round three, having already dispatched Brighton at home (I shall enjoy the memory of a perplexed Gus Poyet watching his team as they were cut to shreds by our bunch of mediocre misfits for a long time) and away to Championship Reading, in both games playing our best football of the season.

As such, the players and staff, as well as their bank manager, richly deserve the opportunity afforded to them by tomorrow’s game. The trouble is, in virtually every other game this season, the heights reached in the league cup have seemed but a distant mirage.

One league win, against a very poor Southend side, several uninspiring, backs-to-the-wall draws, and a couple of chagrin-inducing defeats away to Torquay and Shrewsbury, as well as a senseless drubbing at Hartlepool, in the laughably-regional JPT, have been our lot so far.

In those games, regular watchers have been able to pick out the following tidbits of information about our merry band of blokes (call it a scouting report):

1. We actually aren’t all that good
2. We have so few defenders that, at Shrewsbury, a converted left winger, and a converted centre forward started together at centre half. The latter, Seb Harris, on debut, was substituted before half time. This was shoddy man management, but a decent football decision. It precipitated today’s signing of Ben Tozer from Newcastle. But will he stop Torres/Kuyt/N’Gog/Pacheco or whoever else is played up front tomorrow?Well, okay, probably Fernando is the only one who we should be truly worried about, but the lack of defensive, well, quality, is somewhat worrying, and will be our undoing over the course of the league season. Liam Davis’ recent conversion to left back has been a success story, and his runs from deep might pose some problems, if only he could do something at the end of them.
3. In midfield, we are over-stocked with strong, hard-working players, except they don’t work hard. Isn’t hard-working just a shorthand version of average? Thought so. Anyway, despite all the evidence pointing to our best bet being to play three in the centre, this only happens every so often.Shockingly, we often play better in this formation. More shockingly still, there is no guarantee that this will mean that the tactic will be employed the following week. As with much of League Two, the need for the ability to pass appears to have been overlooked by those scouting our players, apart from Kevin Thornton, who passes beautifully, as well as creating set-pieces, and enjoying games where he does not have to tackle or be tackled. On that basis, I have high hopes for him to outplay Gerrard tomorrow.
4. With Michael Jacobs looking alternately like Pele and a rabbit in headlights in his first-full season, but showing the potential which will see him in the Championship at least before too long, and Billy McKay on the wings, and the recently signed Leon Mckenzie up top, we have decent options (or at least better than they were a couple of weeks ago). In the unlikely event of us actually getting the ball, there is enough creativity and firepower there to spring a surprise.

If I sound defeatist, even disparaging, it is because that’s how the start to the season has made me feel. Northampton are a team on a budget, for whom a tie such as Liverpool away may well, as Ian Sampson, our novice manager has stated recently, be a once in a lifetime experience.

For this reason I will go gladly and proudly up north. However, after a strong period during the middle of the last decade, a combination of short-sightedness on the part of the local government to deny progress to redevelopment, a couple of poor managerial appointments (including, possibly, the current one) and a spot of necessary financial belt-tightening has seen us drop from a very decent League One side 3 years ago, featuring several players now plying their trade in Leagues above ours, to being a very average League Two side, in a very average League Two.

Whatever the result tomorrow, as I arrive at Anfield, I will savour the moment and try and take in every last drop of it. It may very well be a long time before my team is there again.