25: Decade

Back in the early 1990’s, I was (again) trawling the newsgroups on the internet for new music to listen to. Somebody on the group rec.music.progressive mentioned that the great Robert Fripp, the amazing guitar player from King Crimson (and more) had guested on an obscure album by a group called No-Man. I played one of their later albums last post. This article talked about Steven Wilson, and that not only was he behind No-Man, but also behind a group called Porcupine Tree. I was intrigued.

I got sent, at one point, down to Atlanta GA to attend a software training, and as was my way when travelling, I headed out in the evening to look for CD stores. In the Buckhead district I found a store, and in the display case they had a CD called Flowermouth - which was the album mentioned in the newsgroup. So I bought it. I always travelled with my CD walkman (remember those?) and I put it on when I was back in my hotel room. Now, I’ll say this. I, at that point, was not a “club music” kind of guy. Sure, I liked old 70’s disco and such, but the current crop of dance music did nothing for me. That really still holds true today. And yet I was hooked from the get-go.

Flowermouth is best described as Lush. Sweeping strings, trumpet and saxophone solos and crooning vocals intermix with intelligent beats, and melodies. Oh god, the melodies. Because here’s the basic undeniable truth. Steven Wilson is a master songsmith - no matter the genre, he is a consummate creator of pop. We’ll address that over the course of the next few posts, I think. I’m going to separate these listening sessions into decades, because the output is so vast and varied, anything less will do a disservice to you. So we start, then, with Angel Gets Caught In The Beauty Trap, a ten minute string-laden tropical journey. Not a club tune though, that doesn’t start until the next track - You Grow More Beautiful, which keeps all the lushness and beauty of Angel… but adds a drum machine to the mix. But this club I mention is unlike any other that I’ve heard of. (Which is probably why the label - again - didn’t promote this record.) Angel… is the track that features the solo by Robert Fripp, that brought me into this, alongside trumpet and saxophone played by two british musical stalwarts. For some reason, the cream of the UK music scene recognized the importance of this band, and was eager to lend a hand. Club music, fortunately, is perfect to listen to while the lights flicker in time, so this morning's listen / look session was above par for sure, and this is a stellar start to a deep dive into the musical mind of a great artist.

Very shortly thereafter, I was in New York City visiting my Mother. I dropped into a record store there and picked up the album Up The Downstair by Wilson’s other project Porcupine Tree. This album cemented with me that I was dealing with something special.

One of the problems with owning such a vast collection of music as I do (Scratch that… THERE ARE NO PROBLEMS WITH OWNING A VAST COLLECTION OF MUSIC, WENDY! I SWEAR!!!!) is that far too often albums that you love get lost in the archives. It’s been a long time since I gave an uninterrupted listen to Up The Downstair, and that’s a shame because it’s a really great album. Channeling techno bands like The Orb along with psychedelic stalwarts like Pink Floyd, this album carves a unique place in the music world. While on one side, it’s a dance music record for club going (different clubs than the No-Man crowd, for sure) raver acid heads, it’s also a record to - as I did this morning while the lights flickered merrily along - immerse yourself in quietly. Starting with a psychedelic orchestral bombardment and the words "What you're listening to are musicians… performing psychedelic music under the influence of a mind-altering chemical called…” spoken by someone with a clear academic bent. It then heads right into a beat driven, trance inducing dance track, before abruptly showing us the masterful pop sensibilities of Wilson with the absolutely beautiful track Always Never, which closely heralds the immediate future of Porcupine Tree as a song-based rock band. Vacillating between pounding club beats and acoustic guitar driven pop music (along with the searing guitar solos that Wilson will become known for), this album took me for a great ride this morning, and reminded me why I jumped so hard on the Wilson bandwagon back in late 1993. With very few exceptions, this is a completely solo work - all instruments and vocals performed by Wilson, who was only 26 at this time. Very briefly you get introductions to two musicians who would become permanent fixtures of the band, when it became a band a few years later. The album was redone in 2005, with real drums, by the current drummer of the Porcupine Tree band. I listened to the original version. I’m a bit of a purist in regards to revisiting recordings. They (like movies, comedy and art) are products of their time and should be enjoyed (or not) as such. Not changed because production or social values have changed.

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The nineties were a continuing decade of prolific output for Wilson. There were three more wildly differing Porcupine Tree studio albums, which concluded with the formation of a full band and first US tour. There was also a double live album and an album of instrumental jams. No-Man released several archival recordings and a new studio album. Two more new completely solo projects were born, one called The Incredible Expanding Mindfuck which was a KrautRock inspired bit of excess, and the noise-drone project Bass Communion. 1999’s final album, Porcupine Tree’s Stupid Dream, was a turning point though. As mentioned, there was an international tour (I went to Winooski, Vermont to see it - with an audience of 50 other early listeners - in contrast, when I last saw them in 2010, they sold out an amphitheater in LA) and the fan base started getting increasingly rabid. No longer on a small psychedelic rock label, the album was easily found in regular record stores.

Stupid Dream (which might, in retrospect, actually be an apt description of America and democracy in general) is a stunning example of a pop-rock record, which heralded many themes that would be prevalent in Wilson’s music for decades. The themes of being lost in a busy world, of being a musician trying to market a product in a marketplace that does not quite accept it and of deep and profound loss - relationships, self and motivation. Most of this rather morose topic is buoyed up by relentlessly poppy rock music (with the exception of the album's final track - Stop Swimming, which is a terribly sad overall piece of music, seemingly about a young person being continually rejected and finally electing to take the short way out) and wonderful harmonies. The instrumentation on the album is pretty basic - Bass, Drums, Guitar, Keyboards and Vocals. String arrangements float through several of the tracks adding a whimsical melancholy to the overall vibe. The is a really strong album, and was a great addition to a varied catalog, and was super engaging for me in the dark room under the lights.

I read some alarming news the other day regarding the sanctity of Alzheimer’s research. It seems as if many researchers (highly qualified ones) skewed their data in order to gain access to fame and money. The focus on Amyloid Plaque, for example, might have slowed or halted research in other directions, even though the benefits of the drugs for that (Leqembi, which I take) show only slight benefit. Does the promise of a 30% reduction offer enough to stop looking elsewhere? Let’s hope not. However, in light of the fact that 45/47 has now frozen much of the infrastructure of the National Institute of Health (NiH) as well as hiring for the National Parks (risking understaffing for the busy summer season and thus potential destruction and misuse of America’s great lands) it does not bode well for those of us who are seeking new treatments.

Thanks for reading,

Dy