Bruce Soord belongs to a small, but intensely creative, community of progressive artists (alongside the likes of Steven Wilson and Mariusz Duda), whose restless spirit ensures that one outlet for their muse is never enough. Here, the Pineapple Thief frontman (and in-demand producer), returns with his third solo album. Entitled Luminescence, it is an album of beautifully melancholic acoustic pieces that shine a light on Bruce’s innermost thoughts and feelings, and it is a compellingly intimate journey that he invites us to take alongside him.
It opens with the gentle Dear Life, which pairs Bruce’s rippling guitar with a light-touch synth backdrop that has shades of Peter Gabriel and Steven Wilson. It’s a beautiful opening track, heartfelt and with Bruce’s vulnerable voice at the heart of it all. It’s followed by Lie Flat a piece that offers a more prominent beat, although the vibe remains relaxed – somewhere between Massive Attack and Steven Wilson – while Bruce’s production is simply stunning, creating a whole sonic world in which the listener can wander. Next up, Olomouc opens with just voice and guitar, although it expands to take in richer textures, including strings, as it progresses – recalling latter-day Anathema in the process. A mere two-minutes, So Simple is heart breaking in its sparse arrangement, its brevity echoing the title and concept, and it paves the way for the gorgeous Never Ending Light – a slow paced, but more expansively produced piece, with strings, echoing vocals, and a loping beat, all of which serve to lend it a Floydian atmosphere. The first half of thew album concludes with Day Of All Days, a subtle, slowly shifting piece that edges further into Floyd territory.
Emerging from the sound of sirens, the second half of the album opens with the lush, string laden Nestle, which has a touch of added tension driven by arpeggiated synths and stabbing bass. After so sumptuous a piece, Instant Flash Of Light strips things back a touch and, while the strings remain, the primary focus is the strummed acoustic guitar and subtly layered vocals of the piece. It’s followed by a mini trilogy of pieces which fade into one another. It begins with the aptly titled Rushing, the fast-strummed guitars of which initially recall the opening bars of Pink Floyd’s of Dogs, before the track drifts into post rock territory, complete with synth percussion and ambient effects. It segues into the unutterably beautiful Stranded Here, which exists in a similar realm to Davidge’s post-Massive Attack solo album, all swooning vocals and subtle production flourishes that create an entire universe between the notes actually played. The mood shifts again as the music flows into Read To Me, a heartbreaking piece that seems to tell of some terrible, yet unnamed, loss. A moment of quiet precedes the hope-filled coda that is Find Peace, a track that suggests the author can still resolve the past, as strident strings drawn from Kate Bush’s Cloudbusting race across the surface. It’s the perfect ending to an album of quiet contemplation, and it helps the listener to find hope as they return to the cold light of day.
A haunting, cathartic experience, Luminescence is a deeply personal journey that is somehow penned in a manner that allows the listener to bring their own interpretation. There is sorrow here, but also redemption – and the final track, the gorgeous Find Peace, helps the listener emerge, bruised but also refreshed. It’s not an easy album, but it is a truly beautiful work of art, encouraging introspection, but providing comfort in a world that can all too easily become unforgiving. At a time when music risks becoming a simple commodity, we should be grateful for works like Luminescence for, while they challenge, they also console, encouraging us to strive for something better, even when we risk failure in the doing. 9/10
