Dances, Alleluias and Omens: Rochdale Brass Band Contest 2025

Behind the Scenes of the Rochdale Brass Band Contest

It’s been six years since I was last at the Rochdale Brass Band Contest, and a lot has changed since then. Firstly, it’s in a different place - when I last played, it was still at Rochdale Town Hall, but it has since moved to Wardle Academy. Secondly, I’m with a completely different band (Rainford, for those who don’t know). Lastly - and those of you who’ve followed the blog for a while may have already guessed this - Rochdale 2019 was the contest where I made a bet with a Sop player in the band. Long story - you can read it [here] if you’re interested.

I won.

And this year, we returned to the contest for the first time as husband and wife... in separate bands... competing against each other in the same section. And they say romance is dead!

From the band’s perspective, this was our first outing with our new MD, Adam Taylor - and not only did he absolutely smash it with a podium place at his first contest with us, but the prep leading up to this one might just have saved the future of contesting for me as a player. But we’ll get into that in a minute!

Dances & Alleluias by Philip Sparke

Dances & Alleluias is a 13-minute work by Philip Sparke, commissioned by the British Federation of Brass Bands for the inaugural English National Brass Championships, held at The Lowry in Salford on 1st July 2006. As the title suggests, the work moves between slow, lyrical alleluias and nimble dances before culminating in a passionate, rousing finale that leaves you in tears - for all the right reasons.

I’d never even heard this piece, let alone played it, before we prepped it for Rochdale (I know, my band geek badge should be revoked). There is such a thing as love at first sight - or first listen, in this case - when it comes to test pieces. I’ve experienced it with Arthur Bliss’ Kenilworth and Bert Appermont’s Brussels Requiem. From my first listen to Dances & Alleluias, I absolutely adored it. From its dainty, light-footed dances to its broad, sweeping, Gregorian chant-esque chords towards the end, and its shining solo moments - it’s a joy to listen to.

But would it be a joy to work on? That was the question.

Contest Disillusionment

Now, I’m going to be fully transparent with you. After the Grand Shield in May, I was almost completely disillusioned with contesting. I didn’t want to work on another test piece. If the band had announced that we were going to abandon contesting and become a concert band, you wouldn’t have found me crying into my pint about it!

To go into detail about that disillusionment is maybe a post for another time - I know it’ll ruffle a few feathers, and that’s not the aim of this article.

But truthfully, when it was announced that we were going to Rochdale, I was more than a bit apprehensive. However, the combination of the chosen work and the experience that followed would soon Sparke (pun intended) a newfound love for contesting. And no, it doesn’t have anything to do with a trophy.

Preparing to Face the Music

The piece sounds deceptively straightforward until the music is in front of you - then you realise there are more than a handful of challenges woven into this beautiful work, with plenty of potential pitfalls ahead.

I’m no stranger to Adam Taylor’s approach to contest prep. Having worked with him during my time at Wingates, and again while depping for Freckleton Band at last year’s Red Admiral Entertainment Contest, I’ve seen first-hand not just the depth of his musical knowledge and experience - which is genuinely baffling - but also the level of dedication and preparation that makes him so motivating to play for.

So, I knew I’d need a clear schedule and the work ethic to commit to progress - and I was ready for it!

Now, a four-hour rehearsal on a Saturday morning might sound like actual hell to most people - and I’ll admit, as someone who is not an early bird, the thought did fill me with a bit of dread when I saw it on the calendar. But it turned out to be one of the most enjoyable rehearsals I’ve ever had in the lead-up to a contest. The rehearsal time never dragged, everyone was engaged, and I could hear the progress - both mine and the band’s - as we went along.

We had a little tea and coffee station set up and a chance to have a break and a natter - when my banding sister Natalie brought me a very gratefully received pumpkin spice latte! Then we had a little buffet lunch. It was part rehearsal, part social - and a brilliant way to get a lot of work done on a test piece.

With every rehearsal, I left feeling more encouraged. Compared with some of my previous contesting experiences, I didn’t feel like I was learning a piece for a contest, but rather making permanent progress - developing the skills needed for this piece and beyond.

The mentality shifted from “we have to get a trophy to make this worthwhile” to “I want to show off what I’ve learned - and if we get a trophy, brilliant - but if not, I’ll still come out the other side a better player.”

Then contest week arrived - and memories from the Regionals came flooding back.

The Nerves They Send to Meet Me Won’t Defeat Me

I hadn’t worked so hard on a test piece for a while as I did for the Regionals this year. When I stood backstage at the Winter Gardens, I didn’t really feel any nerves - I was confident that I couldn’t have done any more. And that’s when the thought hit me:

“If you cock this up now, are you going to be more disappointed knowing how much work you’ve put in - and wasted?”

Unfortunately, that voice entered my head just as I walked on stage, and the nerves didn’t just kick in, they took over and  I didn’t give a performance that felt worthy of the hours I’d spent working on the piece. The physical work had been done - but mentally, I’d let myself down that day.

Although I overcame this at the Grand Shield and put down a performance I was proud of, that nervous rattle had been sitting quietly at the back of my head ever since.

So, during contest week for Rochdale, I felt confident in the hours I’d put in - both in the bandroom and at home - and in the guidance I’d had from Adam. But when that same whiny little voice popped up in rehearsal on Monday, all I could think of was that sinking feeling from the Regionals, where I’d felt I’d thrown all that work away.

Now, I’m a bit of a Western/cowboy fan. It started with binge-ing Yellowstone earlier this year - then suddenly I’m buying boots, a stetson, and having a rodeo-themed hen do. Anyway, during contest week I watched Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid for the first time. Firstly: what a movie. Secondly: casting Paul Newman and Robert Redford as two fast-talking, witty, rugged outlaws has only made my cowboy obsession worse.

Most importantly, in a weird full-circle moment, a song that brought me calm and confidence as a kid suddenly had the same effect on me now.

Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head is the standout song in the film. When I was three, I was terrified of going to school. When my Margar (Grandma) and Grandad used to take me in,  I’d sob every time. To calm me down as we walked in, my Margar would get me to sing along to Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head.

As the song played in the film - 27 years later, just days before the contest - this little ditty, for some reason, put me in a better mood, with its lyrics of ‘the blues they send to meet me, won’t defeat me’ and ‘I’m never gonna stop the rain by complaining - because I’m free, nothing’s worrying me’.  Even just humming it whenever I started to get nervous seemed to weirdly calm me down.

That was it - Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head became my theme for contest week. It was the first song I played in the car on the way to and from rehearsals. Then again while getting ready in the morning... and several more times in the car on the day. It’s a good job that I’ve  got a patient husband.

Good Omen: Thank You, Mr Holst

After an encouraging final rehearsal in Rochdale, it was time to make our way to Wardle School to perform. My banding buddy and Rainford bass player, Kieran, kindly offered to give me a lift, as Rob had a rehearsal straight after us.

What do you get when two band geeks are stuck in traffic? Probably what the Brass Band Results website would sound like if it could talk. As we were discussing the best and worst test pieces ever written, Classic FM was playing in the background - and then came that unmistakable opening of Gustav Holst’s Jupiter.

Long-time readers will know how much that piece means to me.

I’m a very superstitious person, and this felt like a good omen.

Rochdale Brass Band Contest 2025: The Performance

The human brain is a wonderfully ridiculous organ, isn’t it? It’s amazing what the random combination of a song from a Western and a symphonic work about a planet can do for your confidence.

I walked onto that stage with the most chilled-out aura - it was almost unsettling. It was only as the downbeat came that I remembered why we were there, but instead of nerves, I felt excitement.

There’s nothing more satisfying than watching your mates nail their solos - and although I was blown away by James (Trombone), Darren (Sop), Kieran (Bass), Danny (Horn), Matthew (Baritone), and Adam (Principal Cornet), it was our Solo Euphonium, Louis, who nearly made me fist-pump the air when he finished his solo. It was just too good!

Most of the performance passed by in a blur - like getting off a rollercoaster and feeling the adrenaline without remembering every detail. The only clear memory was the ending - such a glorious moment. To play a score with that kind of warmth, surrounded by a band I have so much love for, was just... awesome, quite frankly.

A Good Starting Point for the Future

I thoroughly enjoyed the novelty of drinking from a beer cart at a school - I might’ve enjoyed my GCSEs a bit more if that had been an option!

After watching Rob and Wingates give a fantastic performance of Sounds by John Golland, it was time to hang around for results - which, thankfully, wasn’t a long wait.

I’m saying it now - I’m no longer going into the hall for results. I think I’m a bad omen. Our last top-ten result was 8th at the Grand Shield last year, and when that came through, I was buying beer for the bus home in the Co-op. Ever since then, every time I’ve gone into the hall... nothing good has come from it.

At Rochdale, I chose to chill with some band friends and a pint when the result came through: Third! Thus solidifying my belief that I’m bad luck in the hall - you’ll find me at the door with a glass to my ear come the Regionals.

All in all, it was an absolutely brilliant experience prepping and performing at this contest. It’s a privilege to play with such a hard-working band and under such a tireless, passionate MD.

I’m excited to see what the future holds. In the words of the legend of our cornet rank, Breezy - we ride at dawn!

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