It’s all in the program
Broker in flight
The same, again
Back up the fire escape
History
Local glamour
Morning in the Meadows
Slowcoach
The chastity kick
Submarine
Red brick eyes
Clear the room

Cover photo by Sean Fennessy. Very happy with how it turned out. The theme, if you can call it that, is objects which have no great personal significance except for the fact that I’ve managed to hang onto them for quite a while. The Yukon flag is from a trip to Canada when I was small; the Shopping Meter belonged to my mother, but it fascinated me for hours at a time as a numbers-obsessed toddler; the shirt is a replica of the one worn by pitcher Chan Ho Park during his time with the Los Angeles Dodgers, which my brother bought for me at a Dodgers game when he lived in California; the hairband around my wrist was a gift from a drunk girl at a party; the watch I bought in Edinburgh, and it began habitually resetting itself every so often within weeks of purchase. I still wear the Dodgers shirt when performing every so often as I enjoy its lack of relevance. I gave a copy of the album to John Sharkey of Clockcleaner when the Native Cats supported them at the Brisbane Hotel; he took one look at the cover and said, “Dodgers? No, man. Phillies. Phillies.”

For all the time I was planning the album, I was certain I was going to call it Cruel and Ambitious. I then wrote a new song a couple of days before the last recording session and called it “Slowcoach”, referring to its arrival just in time for inclusion on the album. A little while later I renamed the album after the song, as I was finding it hard to get at all excited about releasing something that had essentially existed fully-formed in my head for years. So there you go.

Slowcoach was released gradually throughout the latter half of 2008. I had it on sale when I supported Pikelet and Laura Jean at Manchester Lane in Melbourne on 29 June, but I didn’t launch it in Hobart until I organised a special triple album launch between myself, the Que, and Liam Constable on 14 November (an excellent show, but I only sold one copy). It’s all piano and vocals, with the occasional bit of melodica. I still like the album and have very few regrets about it; I don’t like that it’s my only album. I’ll be doing very different things on future releases, at which point I’ll be able to point back to Slowcoach and say, “That was my stripped-back piano album.”

At some point it was reviewed in Uncut:

Following a batch of homemade CD-Rs and an extended visit to Edinburgh, Scotland, Slowcoach is the first proper album from Tasmania’s Peter Escott. It’s rough and ready, but already shows signs of a great songwriter at work. Like Peter Jeffries (whose droll delivery he shares) and Plush’s Liam Hayes circa More You Becomes You, Escott’s naked, unadorned songs take flight when he balances emotional evisceration with reserved performance; while he’s got a natural flair for the dramatic flourish, he’s at his best when drawing strength from diffidence.

They gave it three stars; I prefer to think of it as six out of ten. I can do better.

Local-ish street press Buzz Magazine provided this extraordinary review:

‘Slowcoach’ by Peter Escott seems best served with a glass of red wine. The tracks are subtle, perhaps suited to background music at a restaurant than a night on the town. The album succeeds in creating a thick layer of reflection, the piano’s core presence quite haunting at times, reminding listeners of days past. The seven minute track, ‘It’s All in the Program’, at the start of the jazz disc lets you know this C.D. is made to be listened to. However, when your full attention is given, it’s clear the dramatic yet melancholy piano riffs speak much louder than Peter’s lyrics. His voice feels more of an accompaniment, than a centre piece. Not a negative aspect by any means, just a point that highlights the true talent evident in his playing. With a sound not unlike that of Canada’s Arcade Fire’, the jazz piece does feel modern, the Indie influences to the style keeping it safe from cliches that pop up so often in the genre. A very well produced debut album. The 12 tracks fully capture the presence of Peter Escott’s live performance. A pleasant and refreshing CD to delve into, that holds real feeling.

A couple of decades from now: “Oh, Slowcoach? Yeah, I was listening to a lot of restaurant jazz back then, drinking a lot of red wine. You know. Remembering days past.” And so on.

500 copies were printed. I’m sure I’ll do more if I ever run out. You can buy it at shows, at maybe two or three record stores (Tommy Gun Records in Hobart should always have it in stock, and I think Missing Link and Collector’s Corner in Melbourne still have a couple of copies each) or right here for $15 AUD, free shipping anywhere in the world.