Sixteen Years

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At a time when there would appear to be no need for it, here they come again. That Purveyor of some of the most heavenly and enduring pop non-hits you're ever likely to hear has regrouped his gang of aging sociopaths and built himself, in the barns and sheds of Northamptonshire, a band. With all the grace and savoire faire of a Charabanc full of drunken CB enthusiasts arriving at a society wedding, The Jazz Butcher Conspiracy pushes its gnarled face around the front door of pop.

Old but never wise, sickened but not tired, this casually dressed lifestyle ensemble whips out another communique on how things are and how they might be. How, in fact, they might have been all the time.