Steven Wilson
Hand. Cannot. Erase.

“Progressive?”

“Is it still possible to be progressive?”

“I'm not sure it is”

“Are Radiohead progressive? Are Muse?

Are Massive Attack? Is Aphex Twin?”

“I could say yes, in a way, they are progressive”

“What I mean is that I believe there is an ambition returning to rock music, which is obviously a great thing”

(Steven Wilson, excerpt from an interview given on 31.03.2015 to Radio Rock 106.6)

What is progressive rock in 2015? Does it still (or did it ever) make sense to ask such a question? Leaving the arduous answer to certainly more qualified people than myself, I believe that the reflection offered by Steven Wilson is enlightening.

Ambitious.

What characteristics must a song, a composition, or a discography have to be defined as such? It's not easy to answer. The elements that must be present are numerous, not compressible into an objective and exhaustive list that a mere music enthusiast, moreover, is certainly not capable of drafting.

If I try to outline some of these, the thought immediately goes to the variety, the sophistication, the myriad nuances of sounds that every band, generally ascribed to the progressive movement, has always constantly sought. One cannot overlook the tendency to articulate and develop one's compositions in order to take the listener on a fascinating journey, often not a short one. And what about the lyrics that accompany such sounds? Whether they are dreamlike, fairy-tale, surreal, or psychological, the lyrics have always represented fertile ground to grow and develop one's thoughts, often personal and non-conformist.

If these can be the elements to qualify a certain type of music as ambitious, can we then define the latest effort of the so-called golden boy of progressive, Mr. Wilson, in this way?

Yes. Without a doubt. Hand. Cannot. Erase., the latest album by the English artist, is certainly an ambitious album, the result of intense and personal work, requiring multiple listens to be fully appreciated and savored.

After the enormous critical and commercial success of The Raven That Refused to Sing (And Other Stories) in 2013, the temptation to repeat the winning formula would have been strong for anyone, but the former Porcupine Tree leader is a versatile artist who doesn't like to repeat himself.

Released in most European countries on March 2, 2015, Hand. Cannot. Erase. is distinguished from the celebrated predecessor starting from the lyrics, mostly inspired by the tragic story of Joyce Carol Vincent (October 15, 1965 – December 11, 2003), a young English woman found dead in her apartment almost three years after her death, without anyone, in that time, having sought her.

The story of Joyce Vincent is the emblem of a progressive and voluntary alienation from the surrounding world, a choice that surprises and invites the listener to reflect on the value of human relationships and the alienation of the modern individual within society, a concept repeatedly emphasized by Steven Wilson himself in numerous interviews (“if someone wanted to disappear today, there is no better place than the center of a big city”).

The urban and modern setting, so distant from the gothic themes of the predecessor album, has also influenced the music of the English artist, who throughout the eleven tracks has skillfully mixed electronic, pop, metal, and obviously progressive rock elements, thus giving the album the freshness and modernity necessary to tell a story set in our time.

The album opens with First Regret, a brief instrumental intro, whose piano notes immediately accompany the listener into the elegant and melancholic atmospheres of the album, extensively developed in the following track, 3 Years Older, one of the most markedly progressive songs on the record, as well as one of the most successful. Influenced by pop and easy to grasp is the title track Hand. Cannot. Erase., not surprisingly extracted as the first single to present the album. Decidedly electronic and with an almost trip hop atmosphere is Perfect Life, a seductive regret of an idealized and now unreachable past. A more orthodox progressive rock returns to cradle the listener with Routine, a song embellished by the delicate voice of Israeli singer Ninet Tayeb. The drum of Marco Minnemann is in the foreground in the following Home Invasion, which after a heavy metal-tinged beginning, makes room for the class of individual musicians, free to develop their musical plots until the next, and seamlessly, Regret #9. After the brief acoustic interlude Transience, Steven Wilson and company tackle another long progressive suite, Ancestral, slightly less successful than the initial 3 Years Older. The album concludes with the pair, also seamless, Happy Returns - Ascendant Here On..., the absolute emotional climax of the record, where Guthrie Govan's heartrending guitar highlights the tragedy of Joyce Carol Vincent's last moments, who likely died from an asthma attack while, on a December night, she was wrapping some presents, perhaps indicating her desire to return to life after the whirlpool into which she had been sucked.

An exciting, deep, and ambitious album, masterfully played and produced by an artist who has been a point of reference in the modern progressive rock scene for years now.