Porcupine Tree Albums (15)
What The Critics Say
Over the years, trying to determine what is true "prog rock" and what is not has become an increasingly tricky proposition. In the early '70s, it was easy -- any band that performed "suites" that extended across entire album sides and dressed in capes and/or cloaks was a dead giveaway. However, when the early '80s rolled around, most former prog rockers trimmed out the fat from their compositions (and exchanged their medieval wear and kimonos for what looked like sports coats). Ever since, there have been bands that have aligned themselves to either of the aforementioned prog rock approaches. But along came Porcupine Tree, who somehow have found a way to incorporate both into their 2009 effort, The Incident. Set up similarly to Rush's 1978 classic, Hemispheres, The Incident is comprised of a single long song -- the title track -- that features many different movements (which would have taken up the entire side one back in the good ol' days of vinyl), as well as a handful of shorter compositions that close the album. The aforementioned title track will certainly be the talk of the album, as it manages to incorporate bombast and melody (the sixth movement, which shares the album's title), rock ("Octane Twisted"), Yes' folky moments ("The Seance"), and Tool-like grooves ("Circle of Manias"), before it all gently floats away on a cloud of fairy dust ("I Drive the Hearse"). That said, unlike early proggers who favored meandering instrumental doodling over succinct songwriting, Porcupine Tree always favor the importance of memorable songs over flashy solos, which certainly makes the group one of the top modern-day prog rock bands. ~ Greg Prato, All Music Guide
'Fear of a Blank Planet'
Release Date 1/1/2007
Tracks 6
Label Roadrunner
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Porcupine Tree makes a triumphant return to experimental, non-linear style with 2007's Fear of a Blank Planet. Maybe Steve Wilson was afraid that the comparatively poppy Deadwing and In Absentia were edging too close to the mainstream, because he seems far less concerned with overtly accessible songwriting on Blank Planet. Even still, the cerebral, atmospheric sound on this album remains enormously compelling from almost the first moment. While there is no "radio single" on the disc -- certainly nothing with a conventional pop arc like Lightbulb Sun or "Trains" -- most songs transcend their complex structure and feel as provocative as any traditional rock tune. The aptly named "Sentimental," in particular, features Wilson's trademark lush arrangement with layers of vocals, piano, ambient synths, electric guitar, acoustic guitar, live drums and sampled drums -- but cutting through its tightly contained mosaic is an expertly constructed chord progression that evokes a desperate sense of tension and longing, developing incredible emotional momentum as the track progresses. Blank Planet sounds like Wilson spent about half of his studio time on the guitar; it's full of buzzy, meticulously distorted solos that you can easily picture him folding into the prototypical Porcupine Tree amalgamation of drum machine, organ, and synthesizers during many long hours in front of the sound board. The quiet, English restraint with which Wilson croons seems to have saved his voice from the decay that so many male singers experience over a twenty year career, and lucky for us (and for him), the style still works perfectly with Porcupine Tree's sound. As a vocalist, he has an amazing capacity for juxtaposing cold, haunting moments against evisceratingly passionate ones, mostly thanks to the control he exerts over his instrument. Wilson's clear, boy's choir timbre sounds like a torrent of frenzy and hunger when he breaks free of it and explores the limits of his vox on tracks like "Sleep Together." His sleepy, melodic approach also has the benefit of ensuring that his poetic lyrics, which run the gamut from acerbic social criticisms to wrenching personal narratives, are always perfectly discernible. Though it's only six tracks long, each of the songs on Blank Planet is exquisitely crafted, even the 17-minute long "Anesthetize." Wilson has a great sense of flow, leading mournful, ambient ballads into graceful crescendos, and over long interludes that sway blissfully throughout rises and falls, only occasionally losing themselves to moments of plodding or meandering. At roughly 51 minutes, Fear of a Blank Planet is short by Porcupine Tree standards, but by measure of quality rather than quantity, it's one of the most substantial prog albums to come out in years. [A CD/DVD version of the album was also released.] ~ Cammila Albertson, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Porcupine Tree have always been pigeonholed with the modern prog movement, but the reality is that they're both a riff-addicted metal band and a troupe obsessed with rich harmonies and memorable refrains. Take the grinding guitar work of "Shallow" which dukes it out with frontman Steve Wilson's undeniably melodic chorus before easing into the delicate, beautifully crafted "Lazarus." Few bands exhibit this kind of depth, be it the dreamy, Pink Floyd-inspired hallucination "Halo" or the Queensrÿche echoes of "Open Car." If the 12-minute sonic meander known as "Arriving Somewhere but Not Here" is as head-trippy as rock music gets anymore, it is reassuring to know that this Tree is still growing. Ideal for headphones, Deadwing -- despite its title -- takes flight nonetheless. ~ John D. Luerssen, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
A beautifully intimate performance to listen in on, Porcupine Tree's 2006 live CD, Warszawa, consists of a radio broadcast the band made for a small Polish audience in 2001. The group's customary languid, glassy feel stays intact, but certain musical elements, especially Steven Wilson's evocative vocals, occasionally reach gloriously unexpected moments of rawness and rapture. The album's more sample-based songs, such as "Even Less" and "Lightbulb Sun," sound at home in the close-quartered setting, while their live instrumentation takes on an acoustic, unprocessed feel. The release draws almost exclusively on material from 1999's Stupid Dream and 2000's Lightbulb Sun, understandably skipping over the drum-machine days of 1993's Up the Downstair and 1995's The Sky Moves Sideways. It would have been nice to hear Porcupine Tree take a new stab at this old material with the instruments and techniques now at their disposal, but the absence of earlier songs doesn't make for meager pickings. At 79 minutes and 17 seconds, the performance fills the disc within 43 seconds of its life. ~ Cammila Albertson, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Continuing in the growing commercial vein of their previous releases, Porcupine Tree's In Absentia may be the most accessible release to ever spew forth from the group. Rolling electronic percussion blends with simple and solid live drumming to provide an understated backbeat as perennial Tree leader Steven Wilson pastes his complicated pop over the proceedings. Wilson's ability to bury his layered vocals in mountains of spacy electric guitar without drowning out his fragile lyrics is still a valued feature of the music, and the rare moments of clarity that his vocals display are breathtaking in their power. A reliance on a somewhat gothic heavy metal sound makes for some bizarre moments, especially when held up against his gentler material. The best example of this is the chugging "Wedding Nails," which recalls Dream Theater in its grandiose scope without utilizing the same sort of technical wizardry. But Wilson manages to bridge the gap between the various genres he utilizes, creating an environment where his haunting melodies could take a drastic turn at any minute. Porcupine Tree also continue their Radiohead fascination, although the influence is much less direct than on their last few efforts. Instead, it comes through at odd intervals, like the moments of sparse instrumentation on the otherwise lush "Heartattack in a Lay By." Sonically gorgeous and deceivingly complex, In Absentia has the most immediate appeal of anything Wilson has released under this moniker up to this point. By keeping the songs at manageable lengths and avoiding the avant-garde electronica flourishes of the band's early days, Porcupine Tree has grown into a fully realized pop group without cutting any of the elements that also make them an important force in the neo-prog movement. ~ Bradley Torreano, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Originally released in 1998 as a limited-edition double 10", Metananoia collects several instrumental studio jams Porcupine Tree recorded during the 1995-1996 sessions for its Signify album. These outtakes are widely considered to be some of the band's most experimental and spacious work ever. The 2002 CD reissue includes two bonus tracks, remastered sound, and expanded artwork. Included are all three parts of "Mesmer" and two parts of the title track. ~ Jason Birchmeier, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Some older fans looked askance at Lightbulb Sun, feeling it was verging on overt commercialism (and admittedly, the near power ballad solo on "Where We Would Be" is a bit odd!). Then again, given Wilson's own explorations of avant-garde pop with No-Man, who's to say why a slightly more radio-friendly stance can't work? "Shesmovedon" may have been a single, but there's no question who wrote and performed it -- the elegant cascade of backing vocals on the chorus shows that much. Certainly Wilson hasn't turned into Max Martin or anything -- it's still very much Porcupine Tree, in its lyrical turns of phrase and general sense of exploration. One of the best tracks on the album is the brilliantly titled "Four Chords That Made a Million," a barbed cut on some unnamed "emperor in new clothes" beset by a "moron with a cheque book." The lead riff is a majestic hit of flange and feedback, while the hints of sitar and Indian percussion give the song even more attractive heft. But there's a definite bent towards calmer art pop throughout Lightbulb Sun -- those who preferred the sheer surge of Stupid Dream will find this album tamer in comparison. Still, it's hard to resist the beautiful, understated tension about a fractured friendship or relationship on "Feel So Low" or the gentle, string-touched roll and build of "The Rest Will Flow," flat out two of Wilson's best tunes anywhere. Those who prefer the lengthy explorations won't be disappointed, though -- "Hatesong" unfolds its sharp message over eight minutes and then the string-swept, slow time explosion of "Russia on Ice" over 13. Slyest title of the bunch -- "Last Chance to Leave the Planet Earth Before It Is Recycled," which samples the videotape made by the leader of the Heaven's Gate cult before its mass suicide in 1997. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Porcupine Tree's first album for K-Scope/Snapper starts out with a definite bang -- "Even Less," with some of the quartet's biggest, blasting rock epic music yet, yet also shot through with the gentler, acoustic side that makes Porcupine Tree so intimate and lovely. The net result easily calls Yes to mind, but Steven Wilson's not so high-pitched as Jon Anderson and Richard Barbieri completely avoids Rick Wakeman's extreme idiocies -- prog that knows when less is more. With that as a fine signal for the album as a whole, Stupid Dream takes it from there -- Wilson as a songwriter and singer both sounds recharged and more ambitious, while the group collectively pours it on. The loud passages feel truly sky-smashing, the calmer ones perfectly close, and the overall sense of build and drama -- "A Smart Kid" is a fine example -- spot-on. Strings from the East of England Orchestra and guest work on Wilson's sometime Bass Communion partner Theo Travis add even lusher atmospheres without swamping the tunes. As always, the group isn't afraid to experiment where others merely re-create -- check out the funky breaks Colin Edwin and Chris Maitland lay down on "Slave Called Shiver," not to mention Wilson's catchy piano figure and Barbieri's Hammond organ fills. Lyrically, Wilson comes up with some of his best work yet. "Piano Lessons" looks back on past musical learning and a doubtful teacher as a spur to trying harder, while "Pure Narcotic" offers up a romantic scenario and tip of the hat to Radiohead all at once: "You keep me hating/You keep me listening to The Bends." There's actually a musical hint or two of the Oxford quintet as well -- the acoustic guitar/drum intro to "This Is No Rehearsal" is a good example -- but leave it to Porcupine Tree to drop in some fully plugged in thrash metal, as well. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
