Symphony No. 7, Op. 33
Manic Dancing, Op. 25
Symphony No. 6, Op. 30, "Tyrants Destroyed"

"I was born in Chesterfield, Derbyshire, in 1957 and studied at the local grammar school, where I obtained an A Level in music and learnt the violin up to grade 7. These are my only musical qualifications: as a composer I am otherwise self-taught. I began writing around age fifteen and have continued to do so ever since. In 1981 I moved to France, where I work in language services for companies. For a period of about ten years, I conducted the local amateur symphony orchestra, which played some of my early compositions." {Steve Elcock}

I must say that for an autodidact composer, Anglo-French composer Steve Elcock (b. 1957) never fails to impress by his keen imagination and firm grasp on structure and development. At times his music can seem a bit chaotic, but in his case it proves to be logical and planned chaos. Unlike many of today's composers, who like some painters, splash different colors on a canvas in a haphazard fashion, and call whatever the end result is a masterpiece, Steve Elcock's home-grown methodology and writing technique produce tangible and effectively satisfying musical results. He may very well be a 21st century composer, but he adds his own original and highly brilliant brush strokes to a canvas framed by historical convention. The Agitato segment for example of his single-movement Symphony No. 7 is, as the expressive marking suggests, highly agitated and violently frenzied and chaotic, and impressively so, but it all comes together perfectly because you can sense that it's the whole symphony's impelling force that got it there. And the forlorn, saddening conclusion that follows is even more effectively gripping because of it. Consummate writing wrapped in stunning orchestration.

A composer after my own heart. Elcock states: "The Sixth Symphony is dedicated to the everlasting execration of self-serving politicians, the obscenely rich and the system that allows them to remain so." A grim beginning inexorably leads to a tremendous unleashing of fury and anger, cathartic in its release of powerful emotions. Distant yet ominous snare drum rolls à la Shostakovich 7th lead us into the final moments. Clashing metal and powerful brass outcries lead the way to a well-attained triumph over tyranny. And again Elcock's highly organic writing eschews mere theatrics, and instead achieves its goals by its own unmitigated momentum.

I you were worried that the art of symphonic writing had gone to pot, give the music of Steve Elcock a listen. It's a rewarding experience, at least in my opinion, and sits well above most of what passes for music these days. If I've piqued your curiosity, please read the reviews for Vol. 1 and Vol. 2 as well.