Steven Wilso 4

Steven Wilson's 4½ is a six-track (+ bonus track for Japan) stopgap mini album between 2015's Hand. Cannot. Erase. and whatever full-length comes next. Four tunes have origins in the previous album's sessions; another dates back to those from 2013's The Raven That Refused to Sing and Other Stories. There is also a re-recording of "Don't Hate Me" that first appeared on Porcupine Tree's 1998 offering, Stupid Dream. The players are by now familiar: Wilson's current working band comprises Guthrie Govan, Adam Holzman, Nick Beggs, Dave Kilminster, Craig Blundell, Marco Minnemann, Chad Wackerman, and Theo Travis. Opener "My Book of Regrets" is a nine-plus-minute exercise that commences with a seductive pop melody, and offers a hooky chorus and syncopated dynamics. It evolves into spiraling prog rock courtesy of Beggs' front-line Chris Squire-esque bassline, fueling Govan and Wilson's spiky…

Over the past decade, Steven Wilson's (Porcupine Tree) relationship with prog rock has grown increasingly intimate. He previewed a killer new band on the live album Get All You Deserve - woodwind/multi-instrumentalist Theo Travis, keyboardist Adam Holzman, session bass and stick player Nick Beggs, drummer Marco Minnemann, and guitarist Guthrie Govan - put a diverse, sophisticated face on Wilson's 21st century brand of the genre. The Raven That Refused to Sing and Other Stories is their first studio outing. Wilson was also able to coax Alan Parsons out of semi-retirement to co-produce and engineer the effort, and he fully committed: the album's crystalline, detailed sound and spacious ambience reflect some of his best work behind the boards…

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…

What the world needs more of is intelligently planned, stupendously played, and brilliantly recorded collections like this one. These two discs contain all the piano works of Michael Tippett, works that come from every period of the composer's very long life except his very last. It includes the youthful, tuneful Piano Sonata No. 1 written between 1936 and 1938 and revised in 1941, the massive Fantasia on a Theme of Handel from 1941, the exuberant Piano Concerto from 1955, the experimental Piano Sonata No. 2, the gnomic almost Beethovenian Piano Sonata No. 3 from 1973, and the gnarly post-Beethovenian Piano Sonata No. 4. It features a bravura performance by pianist Steven Osborne that makes the best case for all the music, no matter how outré or recherché its harmonic proclivities or rhythmic audacities.

A complete survey of Ravel’s piano music is an especially challenging prospect for any pianist. It is not merely that this sublime music frequently demands exceptional, post-Lisztian virtuosity. Beyond such dexterity is the fact that, as Steven Osborne observes in this recording’s booklet, the composer’s fear of repeating himself ensure that the lessons from one work can rarely be transferred to the next. This is not merely the aesthetic change from the nightmarish imagery of Gaspard de la nuit to the elegant neo-classicism of Le tombeau de Couperin. Ravel essentially re-imagined how to write for the piano with each significant work. Osborne is more than up to the task. The contrasting fireworks of the ‘Toccata’ from Le tombeau and ‘Alborada del gracioso’ (Miroirs) are despatched with relish, the piano exploding with power in the latter after a disarmingly impish opening. The Sonatine has a refined insouciance, while the love bestowed upon each note is clear. Then there are the numerous moments of sustained control, such as the shimmering opening pages of Gaspard. Sometimes changes of spirit occur effortlessly within a piece. Having been a model of clarity in the ‘Prelude’ from Le tombeau, Osborne treats the codetta not as a brisk flourish, but as if this particular vision of the 18th century is dissolving beneath his fingers.

Steven Wilson’s new album The Future Bites is an exploration of how the human brain has evolved in the Internet era. As well as being Wilson’s phenomenal sixth album, The Future Bites is also an online portal to a world of high concept design custom built for the ultra-modern consumer. Where 2017’s To The Bone confronted the emerging global issues of post truth and fake news, The Future Bites places the listener in a world of 21st century addictions. It’s a place where on-going, very public experiments constantly take place into the affects of nascent technology on our lives. From out of control retail therapy, manipulative social media and the loss of individuality, The Future Bites is less a bleak vision of an approaching dystopia, more a curious reading of the here and now.