The idea that 4 geniuses stumbled upon a crumbling Downton Abbey in Monmouthshire in 1971, moved in, and recorded a suite of masterpieces between 1972-1974 that no one has ever heard is so attractive it must be; and is, true. A pony trekking Baronet, a Lord of Bards, a Casey Jones lookalike and a man who swore to change his name to Merleu-Ponty if he lost a bet, and did. That was The Great Crash. And Deadfire Echoes is the sublimest lost masterwork of British Rock. It may be the British answer to Deja Vu. Hints of early Elton John at his finest, of 10cc, of Edwardian melancholia and Noel Coward. And W. E. Johns and Wodehouse. The originality in this record alone, is simply overwhelming. That a song about a Celebration Dinner is an intricate, complex masterwork of pathos, and one of the finest works in the rock and roll pantheon. This then is The Great Crash, and our great privilege to let these exquisite songs finally be heard. The former home of The Great Crash, Plas Llecha, became Loco Studios, and the ghosts of these songs swirled unknown around Oasis and The Verve.