The story of Rock is quite amusing. Really amusing. We can find artists of outstanding artistic caliber but ignored and unknown to most, just as we are capable of finding bands praised by the public, which, perhaps, upon closer analysis, could raise some residual doubts about their actual qualities. In my humble and timid opinion, Porcupine Tree and "genius" Wilson quite faithfully fall into the latter case. It's true, I have only listened to three albums of the much-adored (here in Italy) British neo-prog-psychedelic-ambient ensemble, but that was enough for me to form my own personal idea. Also because among those three albums I've sampled, there's the famous (and more than good, to be honest) "The Sky Moves Sideways". Not an absolute masterpiece, but an absolutely recommendable and enjoyable album.
Now, coming to the subject of the review, I just can't talk about this "Deadwing" in triumphant tones. It was presented to me as an incredible "Masterpiece," but, honestly, I see little "Master" in it, and what remains are small "pieces," scattered here and there throughout the album, seeking glory. Why, you may ask? Simply because when the first track of the album starts, the title track, after the first minute of listening, I am overwhelmed by a disarming sense of Déjà vu. What is this song, a posthumous Rush unreleased track, seasoned with a little Gilmour-style Solo made post-Dark Side by any chance? And that pseudo-psychedelic interlude as predictable as a long-range shot at the 90th minute in a football match (complete with another Solo, this time with a Petrucci-flavored aftertaste in "As I Am")? Well... And "Swallow"? With that initial Hard riff like those we've heard thousands of times in the '70s? And that catchy bridge? And that mindless refrain (excuse the term, but I think it’s an insult to the listener's intelligence)? Not to mention that "gem" that will reach posterity with the name of "Lazarus"... yes, it's cute, yes, it's so sweet, yes, it moves my 11-year-old cousin... wait a moment, are we perhaps talking about the new BSB single?? Mellifluous to the point of nausea... So here I welcome "Halo" with open arms, at least that bassline is reasonably engaging, the whole rhythm section convinces me more... even Steven seems to sing more personally, whispering the words of the lyrics, too bad about the usual cloying chorus that ruins everything. After all, in the land of the blind, the one-eyed are welcome. Finally, we reach the most overrated song on the album, "Arriving Somewhere, But Not Here." For heaven's sake, it’s not "ugly" in an absolute sense, but it has a stifling rhetorical flavor: it starts slow with a relaxing arpeggio, continues in this vein, a predictable and very predictable prelude, however, to the Metal explosion of clear Opethian mark halfway through the song. It seems conceived in a forced manner, the structure is the typical pre-packaged one of a progressive mini-suite. But how many songs have been created in the past like this (and with decidedly better melodies)? Millions.
The second part of the album doesn't deserve particular attention (ahem, neither does the first one really...), where we find a useless "Mellon scratch" (but with a very pleasant final vocal, even if it doesn’t quite match with the rest of the track), a passably catchy, yet quickly dismissable "Open Car", a bland "The Start of Something Beautiful" (but when does something Beautiful start here?), with the punctual refrain in the style of "mass appeal" and a little instrumental towards the romanticized ending of the "now you must be moved otherwise I’ll beat you up" genre. The penultimate track is the Rock equivalent of a testicular anesthesia (a delirious whine difficult to suggest in words) and the inevitable Hidden/Bonus Track that completes the work, representing the summary of the entire, ephemeral, album.
That said, to be fair, I feel compelled to thank Wilson for having created, together with his buddy Akerfeldt, a few years ago, that "Blackwater Park" which I loved so much and which kept me company in days of solitude and melancholy (his is the background singing, in the enchantingly sad chorus of "Bleak," for example).
Mind you, I am not insinuating that PT "totally suck," but rather that they are, more simply, overrated (which is quite a big difference).
And if we come to consider "masterpiece" an album devoid of personality and communicative ability like Deadwing, then the story of Rock is not only very amusing but also profoundly unfair.
Tracklist Lyrics Samples and Videos
01 Deadwing (09:47)
And something warm and soft just passed through here
It took the precious things that I hold dearer
It rifled through the grey and disappeared
The creeping darkness makes the small hours clearer
Like a cancer scare
In the dentist's chair
Sucking in the air
Wire across the stair
Kicking down the door
At your local store
With the world at war
Voices through the floor
Unexpected news
Wearing high heeled shoes
Blowing out the fuse
Paying all your dues
Deadwing lullaby
Like a fracture tied
It's a worthless lie
To the public eye
I don't take waifs and strays back home with me
My bleeding heart does not extend to charity
Yes I'd have to say I like my privacy
And did you know you're on closed circuit TV?
So smile at me
And a dream you had
Of your mum and dad
On a beach somewhere
And the poison air
With the cancer threat
In a cigarette
Deadwing lullaby
Find a place to hide
And from the yellow windows of the last train
A spectre from the next life breathes his fog on the pane
I look with you into the speeding black rain Afraid to touch someone, afraid to ask her for her name
And in the morning when I find I have lost you
I throw a window open wide and step through
02 Shallow (04:17)
I don't remember
Did something in my past create a hole?
Don't use your gender
To drive a stake right through my soul
I live to function
On my own is all I know
No friends to mention
No distraction, nowhere to go
Shallow, shallow Give it to me
Scissors cutting out your anger
Shallow, shallow No good to me, not if you bleed
Bite your tongue, ignore the splinter
This city drains me
Well maybe it's the smell of gasoline
The millions pain me
It's easier to talk to my PC
03 Lazarus (04:19)
As the cheerless towns pass my window
I can see a washed out moon through the fog
And then a voice inside my head
Breaks the analogue And says
"Follow me down to the valley below
You know
Moonlight is bleeding
From out of your soul"
I survived against the will
Of my twisted folk
But in the deafness of my world
The silence broke And said
"Follow me down to the valley below
You know
Moonlight is bleeding
From out of your soul"
"My David don't you worry
This cold world is not for you
So rest your head upon me
I have strength to carry you"
(Ghosts of the twenties rising Golden summers just holding you)
"Follow me down to the valley below
You know
Moonlight is bleeding
From out of your soul
Come to us Lazarus
It's time for you to go"
04 Halo (04:39)
God is in my fingers
God is in my head
God is in the trigger
God is in the lead
God is freedom, God is truth
God is power and God is proof
God is fashion, God is fame
God gives meaning, God gives pain
You can be right like me
With God in the hole you're a righteous soul
I got a halo round me, I got a halo round me
I'm not the same as you
Cos I've seen the light and I'm gaining in height now
I got a halo round me, I got a halo round me
I got a halo round my head
God is on the cellphone
God is on the net
God is in the warning
God is in the threat
06 Mellotron Scratch (06:57)
A tiny flame inside my hand
A compromise I never planned
Unravel out the finer strands
And I'm looking at a blank page now
Should I fill it up with words somehow?
I whispered something in her ear
I bare my soul but she don't hear
The scratching of a mellotron it always seemed to make her cry
Well maybe she remembers us collecting space up in the sky
Nothing rises from my feet of clay, but it's OK
Red mist spreads across my fingertips, ardour slips
I lay her gently on my clothes
She will leave me yes I know
And I'm looking at a blank page now
Should I fill it up with words somehow?
The scratching of a mellotron it always seemed to make her cry
Well maybe she remembers us collecting space up in the sky
Nothing rises from my feet of clay, but it's OK
Red mist spreads across my fingertips, ardour slips
Don't look at me with your mother's eyes or your killer smile
Sing a lullaby
07 Open Car (03:47)
Nothing like this
Felt in her kiss
Cannot resist her
Fell for her charm
Lost in her arms
I keep a photograph
Give me a glimpse
Let me come in
Be there inside her
Here it begins
Here is the sin
Something to lie about
You think you're smart
I think you're art
We agree on this
It doesn't work
Feeling like dirt
Feeling like you don't care
We get a room
And in the gloom
She lights a cigarette
Clothes on the bed
Love me she said
I lose myself to her
I'm getting feelings
I'm hiding too well
(Bury the horse shaped shell)
Something broke inside my stomach
I let the pieces lie just where they fell
(Being with you is hell)
Hair blow in an open car
Summer dress slips down her arm
Hair blown in an open car
OK what's next?
After the sex
What do we now?
Finding the time
Drawing the line
And never crossing it
Gave her the hours
Gave her the power
Cannot erase her
Gave her the truth
Gave her the proof
I gave her everything
I'm getting feelings
I'm hiding to well
(Bury the horse shaped shell)
Something broke inside my stomach
I let the pieces lie just where they fell
(Being with you is hell)
Hair blow in an open car
Summer dress slips down her arm
Hair blown in an open car
On a drive out to the farm
Hair blown in an open car
Hair blown in an open car
Summer dress slips down your arm
Hair blown in an open car...
09 Glass Arm Shattering (06:17)
Feeling all your touching
Feeling all your blood
Feeling all your touching
Felling all your love
Seen it though a windscreen
Seen through the glass
Seen it in a bad dream
Seen it in your heart
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By Socrates
Steve Wilson belongs, indeed, to this category [extraordinary musicians].
Porcupine Tree's music is like a dish richly flavored, cooked by a great chef: it’s not for all tastes; but those who are tired of fast food or monotonous regional cuisines, and wish to try its savory taste, might find themselves captivated and completely satisfied.
By Omega Kid
Stupid Dream is the story of an epic infatuation, a destabilizing crush that makes it difficult to rationally evaluate what surrounds us.
It’s simply a comforting, warm corner of serenity, where Wilson finally manages to find that dimension craved by his creative vein.