Cocomack 2026
Unplugged but exquisitely robust set from the most modest, if influential, axeman of British classic rock.
THE NEW ACOUSTIC BAND –
All Those Dreams Ago
For all the electric brilliance he demonstrated in BLOSSOM TOES and FAMILY, Jim Cregan‘s signature solo has always been an acoustic one, the lace he applied to “Make Me Smile (Come Up And See Me)” by COCKNEY REBEL, and there was plenty of similar detailing on the pieces he played, and often co-penned, with Rod Stewart. Jim never imagined himself as a guitar hero, however, which was why “Spreading Rumours” from 2021, credited to CREGAN & CO., didn’t make the splash it deserved – and neither will this record, by the legendary musician’s latest ensemble, THE NEW ACOUSTIC BAND, even though “All Those Dreams Ago” is destined to be cherished by his listeners. Apart from the titular original, there are only covers of classics the veteran used to perform at various stages of his career, yet they’re done so tastefully that comparisons to the source material seem redundant.
With the wonder of what he achieved here lying in the effortlessness of subtle fantasy flights within the familiar framework of the classic numbers on offer, the choice of “She’s Leaving Home” as opener may feel strange, of course – but think of the perennial’s protagonist as a song running free from its writers, and the album-shaped puzzle should start to make a lot of sense. As Jim’s gruff voice and gentle strum and Sam Tanner’s rippling piano harness ethereality to reality and let English elegy in for an orchestral wave to elevate Cregan’s weave to celestial heights, magnificently understated nuances come to the fore to reach the apex of nostalgia at the album’s close, the heartfelt, deceptively simple reading of “The Best Days Of My Life”: a perfectly unpretentious echo of the platter’s title track. The upbeat and warm, albeit solemn, “All Those Dreams Ago” deals with mortality – and immortality – and follows the groove laid down by the leader’s long-time compadre, drummer Stuart Elliott, and bassist Pat Davey to the land of no remorse and no regret, where the now-dramatic, gospel-tinged “Forever Young” takes on a new meaning, as seen through the eyes of an octogenarian.
It’s not about virtuosic delivery or philosophical matters; it’s about telling the story of Jim’s life without going for a sophisticated concept. That’s the reason for “My Friend The Sun” becoming dew-eyed instead of wide-eyed and turning into a gorgeous ballad given Cregan’s brief but intricate passages, and for “Blondes Have More Fun” softening yet embracing twangy elegance and boogie swagger. Still, the ensemble locate joie de vivre in John Martyn’s “May You Never” to first wrap this evergreen in Marion Fleetwood’s chamber strings and then loosen up and rock the joint, and instill Murray Head’s “Say It Ain’t So, Joe” with intimate, spiritual magic, while “Only A Boy” draws on sweet panache and leaves old bravado at the door. There are more than four decades between the melancholic “Mr Watchmaker” and “Brighton Beach” – both of which finally acquire a mesmeric common denominator here, contrasting the countrified “Come Up And See Me (Make Me Smile)” – the master couldn’t have left off such a chestnut, could he?
For lesser artists, refreshing the past is a futile, vanity-fair exercise; to Jim Cregan, it’s fuel for further creative feats.
*****
