jack ellister

One of the highlights of the recently brief summer, asides the Ladies football and netball, has been watching the fortunes of both the World Cup and Ashes cricket team, hell’s teeth it’s an all-in thing, a rollercoaster of emotions that dips to the low’s one minute and sheer didn’t see that coming euphoria the next, which had I had any hair I’d be grey now. Why is he talking about cricket, I hear you mutter, well it provides a feeble link to the latest Jack Ellister outing, one of several key note releases from the Fruits de Mer summer shop of sounds. Really, these should have been dispatched with appropriate fondness an age ago, but then stuff happened, which I’m sure you’ll agree, the less said about the better. Anyway, two immaculate covers feature here that collectively reveal the varying facets and creative approach of Mr Ellister to immeasurable effect. First up, a simply exquisite turning of Roy Harper’s ‘when an old cricketeer leaves the crease’ is here wonderfully traced with a spectral fixing, at once bitter sweetly reflective and graceful, perhaps a tad tearful and lump in the throat forming, it purrs with a magisterial sigh settled upon the tender touch of a pining piano pausing. Over on the flip a rephrasing of Sabbath’s ‘Supernaut’ is blooded with a scuzz fuzzed beardy psyche stomp the type of which, whose subtle arabesques and wig flipped haloing, wouldn’t look to out of mis on some Paul Roland mystical. Freakishly cool.

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