Only this week Eddie Howe warned that even after nine straight wins Newcastle were not “quite fixed”. Bournemouth, a brilliant counterattacking side, duly seized the opportunity to prove their old manager right as Justin Kluivert’s fabulous hat-trick suggested they are credible candidates for European qualification.

While this failure to secure a record-breaking 10th successive victory confirmed Howe’s assertion that the internal problems that derailed the early part of Newcastle’s season are not fully mended, the visitors subdued Alexander Isak. The Sweden striker’s hopes of scoring for a ninth Premier League game in a row were extinguished on an afternoon when he managed one, anodyne, shot on target.

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“Justin scored three beautiful goals but I’m very proud of my whole team,” said Andoni Iraola. “They were very, very good.”

Bournemouth were certainly far too strong and speedy for Newcastle. Indeed, a side capable of emphasising that direct football can be technically accomplished and wonderful to watch, were so aggressive off the ball and intelligently incisive on it that it was easy to forget they had limped into Toon. Not that a casualty list that left them with 12 fit senior players prevented Kluivert from shooting the visitors into a tone-setting sixth-minute lead.

The result of the forward’s collection of a clever reverse pass from the impressive Antoine Semenyo and subtly curving finish was of the sort Kluivert’s father, Patrick, would have enjoyed celebrating in front of the Gallowgate End. Indeed, there is a certain irony that Kluivert Sr scored only once for Newcastle in the Premier League here after signing for Sir Bobby Robson in 2004.

Even before young Justin started showing his dad how it should be done, David Brooks’s left-footed right-wing crossing had caused plenty of consternation in a fatigued-looking home defence.

If Bournemouth were dazzling under a bright blue sky, Newcastle seemed as underpowered as the weak January sun but somehow managed to equalise from a set piece.

With Dan Burn serving as a decoy, distracting Ilya Zabarnyi, Bruno Guimarães was left unmarked when Lewis Hall’s corner swung in and the Brazilian beat Kepa Arrizabalaga with a header the goalkeeper touched but could not hold.

Undeterred, Bournemouth deservedly regained their lead when Ryan Christie’s dispossession of Guimarães permitted Dango Ouattara to advance at speed before slipping a pass for Kluivert to stroke, expertly, into the net before either Burn or the similarly struggling Hall could intercept.

Although Arrizabalaga subsequently saved superbly to deny Sandro Tonali on a day when the Italy midfielder found himself largely pressed into submission, Newcastle were persistently half a yard off the pace. They frequently permitted their guests to seize possession far too cheaply.

The resultant frustration led to things turning more than a little bad tempered with an off-the-ball altercation involving Joelinton and Kluivert emblematic of the prevailing mood.

Not that Bournemouth, unbeaten in their past 11 matches and now one point behind fourth-placed Newcastle, allowed themselves to become distracted. Instead, Ouattara thought he had scored their third only to see it correctly disallowed due to the ball having slipped fractionally out of play during a frenetic cameo featuring Ouattara hitting a post and Brooks stretching Martin Dubravka to the limit.

Kluivert, who has now scored 10 league goals this season, completed his treble thanks to a glorious stoppage-time drive from just outside the area after his interception of Anthony Gordon’s slapdash pass. Milos Kerkez shot a last-gasp fourth.

Howe was not making any excuses for a surrender to the club he previously played for and managed. “Bournemouth were better than us,” he said. “They never allowed us to find our rhythm.

“That’s not the level we’ve been performing at. We didn’t have control in any phase. We looked devoid of energy and had a real problem athletically.”

With Newcastle’s hopes of Champions League qualification sustaining a sobering dent a chastening stint in the training ground repair shop surely beckons.