| Martyn's first album of new material in four years might be short (around 
        45 minutes), and one of the tracks has appeared before ("Baby Come 
        Home," which was on a tribute to Scots singer Frankie Miller), but 
        it's eminently satisfying, especially when you take into account that 
        most of the vocals and guitar work were laid down after Martyn had his 
        right leg amputated in spring 2003. He revisits his own past with "Go 
        Down Easy," which was originally on Solid Air, although in this guise 
        it's barely recognizable, transformed from an acoustic frippery into a 
        meandering, atmospheric electric piece (this version was originally recorded 
        in 1992 for a ballet). To the joy of longtime fans, there's plenty of 
        Martyn's acoustic fretboard work on On the Cobbles, although it's not 
        as prominent as it was in the '70s. But the free-and-easy love song "One 
        for the Road" is a joy, as is the wistful "Back to Marseilles." 
        A couple of guests do show up: Paul Weller on "Under My Wing," 
        (arguably the best song Weller never wrote) where the former Jam man sounds 
        nervous in the presence of the Big Man, and Mavis Staples roars on a cover 
        of Leadbelly's "Goodnight Irene," although Martyn really doesn't 
        need her help, putting forth a large, extremely soulful sound himself. 
        His voice is the central thing here, and it continues to become a glorious 
        instrument, slipping and slurring like a tenor horn, and fashioning beautiful 
        lines. That's nowhere more apparent than on the album's two key tracks, 
        "Ghosts" and "My Creator." The former is a meditation 
        of mortality, full of trademark Martyn phrases and ideas, but executed 
        with glowing restraint. "My Creator" is a kind of creed, truly 
        words to live by, and the spiritual heir of "Solid Air." The 
        jazziest cut on the album (former foil Danny Thompson plays double bass 
        on it), it's dominated by horns to create an atmosphere of midnight blue, 
        with Martyn wafting over the top in an irresistible manner. While On the 
        Cobbles might be worth the price for that cut alone, the whole disc is 
        a testament to a man who will never go gently into the good night.  (by Chris Nickson, All 
        Music Guide) | 
  
    | In the 1970s, John Martyn recorded a string of classic records 
      that fused folk, jazz and rock with a healthy disregard for convention. 
      Songs that started out as ballads ended up in passionate, freeform improvisations 
      or hazy, cosmic menderings that owed as much to Pharoah Sanders as they 
      did to Davy Graham. That sweet, tender growl of a voice slurred its way 
      through songs about love, friendship and other concerns with disarming honesty, 
      while his tough but lyrical guitar playing marked him as one of the country's 
      most individual players. Since then, his records have been sometimes patchy, 
      indifferent affairs, but he's retained a devoted, loyal fanbase. Dodgy labels 
      ransacking his back catalogue haven't helped his reputation or probably 
      his financial situation of late, but four years ago things took an upturn 
      with the release of Glasgow Walker, an atmospheric, bluesy collection that 
      suggested there was life in the old dog yet. Then tragedy struck; in 2003 
      Martyn contracted an infection that resulted in the amputation of part of 
      his leg. But as fans of the man know, he's not the kind to give in easily. It 
        would be trite to say that such adversity has helped his creativity (after 
        all, a difficult and painful divorce inspired the sublime Grace and Danger), 
        but On the Cobbles is the strongest, most consistent set he's come up 
        with in years. While Martyn's not one for trading on past glories, he 
        seems to have tapped into the same inspirations that informed the freewheeling 
        atmospherics of the early 70s. As ever, the songs are organic, loose, 
        reliant on texture and the casual warmth of the vocal delivery, though 
        more stripped down, intimate than of late. He revisits Solid Air's "Go 
        down Easy" though you'd be hard pushed to recognise it, while the 
        sweet "One for the Road" is a tale of newfound love that wouldn't 
        be out of place on Sunday's Child. "My Creator" sees our John 
        dealing with spirituality in a way that Pharoah or Gary Bartz would be 
        proud of. You can't help but love him for stuff like this.  As well as a cast of veteran Martyn collaborators including bassists 
        Danny Thompson and John Giblin, there are guest appearances from Paul 
        Weller and Mavis Staples. To my mind, Martyn's a strong enough presence 
        to carry things off without that kind of help (Staples' contribution to 
        Leadbelly's "Goodnight Irene" is superfluous at best) but their 
        presence is testament to the high regard in which he's held. To quote 
        Paul Wheeler; so nice to see our John again. Bless him. Reviewer: Peter Marsh (BBC) |