Whenever a young British jazz artist releases a new album, it appears to be met with a sense of excitement, by those who care, and a strange sense of novelty. It is far from unusual for a person in their twenties to put out a fantastically composed and equally meritably performed jazz record, but when it does happen it seems perplexingly steeped in a strange veil of high art, extreme sophistication and perhaps most of all, difficulty; not factors renown for attracting a wider audience. Luckily for the future of the genre there are a plethora of youthful talent doing their utmost, perhaps unintentionally, to hurl this Molotov cocktail of marketing tags away from the feet of the genre and out of harms way. Trish Clowes is one of them people.
Released last week on that proud pioneer of jazz labels 'Basho' (Don't send me any free stuff lads, I'm a fan and you can have that one) Clowes' new record 'And In The Night-Time She Is There' is an album which has exceeded my and, by looks of the press recognition to date, a number of others' expectations. Opening in a somewhat reserved manner, the album initially takes your hand and allows you to test the waters of this composers refreshing take on the genre, before slowly, at what feels like your own preffered pace, more chromaticism, dynamic variation and instruments enter in support of a series of lullaby-esque melodies. In fact, I believe that 'lullaby-esque' is a term that I'd use to describe the entire album; constantly at ease and never straying from what seems like the perfect pace, Clowes presents a series of tunes which, although entirely self composed, seem familiar and almost comforting. With the inclusion of some tension-slackening beats from drummer 'James Maddren' and a duo of inevitably tasteful performances from both Gwilym Simcock (piano) and Chris Montague (guitar), this is an album to sit back, relax to, and admire it's beauty if ever I've heard one.