Introduction
It is easy to forget now, but Porcupine Tree started out as a hoax – a fictional project that riffed on the progressive dinosaurs of the seventies, fitted out with tunes by Steven Wilson to provide evidence of its existence. Yet, if the project had unusual origins, it seems that Wilson underrated his own ability to craft a version of progressive rock that, whilst tipping its hat to the past, also pointed to a viable future for a genre that was, at the time, somewhat in the commercial doldrums.
Yet, although Wilson started to take the project more seriously, critical acclaim did not come over night, and the band were to amass a considerable discography before breaking through somewhere between In Absentia and Deadwing. Typically, once Porcupine Tree achieved critical mass (pun very much intended), the “I’ve been there all along” brigade came marching in and, to look at Steven Wilson’s subsequent career, you’d be forgiven for thinking that he’d always been a critical darling rather than a restless spirit, chasing his own muse through the aether.
This latter point is worth raising because Steven Wilson’s latest (and much delayed) project, The Future Bites, is somewhat controversial with a prog community that took their sweet time in embracing Wilson and yet now consider him to be their property, looking with considerable disdain upon any attempt to break with that narrative. Although I’ve tried to avoid reviews of the album, it was impossible to avoid some of the internet chatter that rose around it, not to mention a tagline that compared the album to Radiohead’s OK Computer. To that extent, I would argue that if you absolutely have to compare it to Radiohead, a more apt comparison would be that band’s lurch into electronica with Kid A, although a better selection would be Ulver’s beautiful The Assassination Of Julius Caesar, which saw the band (much like Wilson) embracing a mix of future-retro synths and organic instrumentation to create electronic music with real bite (sorry!)
Review
So, first things first, The Future Bites is not some massive step into the unknown. It still sounds like Steven Wilson, and if you can wrap your head around the fact that he’s using the studio in a different way, the emotional resonance that sits as a common theme in his work remains undimmed. Moreover, this isn’t some mid-life attempt to “get down with the kids”. As a studio innovator of note, Steven knows how to make the most of the gear at his fingertips and the result is a set of songs that sound warm, rich and organic. Right from the start, when the hazy guitar of Unself appears, swathed in reverb, it almost feels like Steven is saying goodbye to traditional forms of guitar-based music, the acoustic melody slowly fading down before being eclipsed entirely by the robo-funk of Self. As Wilson sings, he’s entirely “self-aware”, and the lyrics speak to a disdain for performing for the fans rather than from the heart. A pretty fair stab at how Prince might have sounded with a hi-tech backdrop, Self sees Wilson’s guitar still present in the mix, albeit twisted into new forms through banks of effects, and it provides a powerful introduction to the album. It gives way to King Ghost, a darker piece that wouldn’t have sounded out of place on the NSRGNTS RMXS EP, with its skittering beat and weighty bass. Something of a highlight, it lulls the listener into a reverie, only for the Porcupine Tree-esque 12 Things I Forgot to snap things back into focus. A very clever piece of music, 12 Things I Forgot manages to tip the hat to the fans, even as the lyrics say goodbye to exactly this style of music and, as if to hammer the point home, Eminent Sleaze is a turbo-charged funk-soul grind wrapped up in electronic armour and shot through with pitch black humour. Typically, it sounds amazing and yet, strip away the ultra-modern flourishes and it’s easy to imagine Peter Gabriel tackling a similar style circa So.
Where does one go after the soul-infused majesty of Eminent Sleaze? Well, in Wilson’s case it’s a chance to tone things down, with the subtle Man Of The People recalling latter day Depeche Mode, albeit washed with lovely, Gilmour-esque chords. A truly beautiful song, it’s almost otherworldly in its airy ambience, and it seems almost ridiculously contrary to deny the influence of what might be termed ‘classic prog’ on its sumptuous melodies. Next, we get the Aphex Twin-isms of Personal Shopper. Listening to it as part of the record, it feels like a natural progression from what has gone before and, although it’s possible (perhaps) to see why the odd eyebrow was raised upon release, it’s a fantastic choice for a single, with the huge banks of vocal harmonies drawn straight from Supertramp. It’s also got an epic guitar solo that, despite the layers of effects, is as visceral as anything from Fear Of A Blank Planet, and its epic length is more than justified by the myriad elements it indulges. In contrast, the taut pace of Follower makes for a great pop song, Wilson’s falsetto leaping from the speakers, only to be crushed by a sonic depth charge of mangled synths and heavily compressed guitar. It leaves Count Of Unease to conclude the album on a melancholy note. Awash with a sense of trepidation over the future, the track draws on the disconsolate piano and subtle electronica of Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross and, after the hedonistic assault of tracks like Eminent Sleaze. It makes for a most satisfying conclusion to a remarkably accomplished album.
Conclusion
The Future Bites is a fantastic record that sees its creator do what every good artist should – it challenges the fans and be damned. Nothing about it feels forced, and although there is a huge amount of technology employed in the service of these pieces of music, nothing is used without thought or purpose. The production is typically excellent – expansive and imaginative – and the songs are clever and catchy. Most crucially, to deny the album’s progressive heritage is to offer only a most superficial reading of the song-writing that borders on the myopic, especially when one considers how the perceived genre leaders (from Floyd to Yes) engaged willingly with technology throughout their careers in order to further their own artistic vision. Ultimately, The Future Bites is an incredibly clever mix of future ambition and past influences that sees Wilson following his instincts. Such evolution is to be lauded, even if it will inevitably be met with resistance from some, and it’s hard to imagine that, with time, The Future Bites won’t be elevated to the status of a classic. 9/10
