Porcupine Tree
Fear Of A Blank Planet

"Errare humanum est"

It is hard not to notice the slight misstep that Porcupine Tree had stumbled into with "Deadwing." It is difficult to look at those "Lazarus" and "Shallow" without raising an eyebrow. Steve Wilson understood this, and this time he gives us a "harder, denser, and more intense" album, and above all "trying not to make the same mistakes of the past."

A concept, “Fear of a Blank Planet” does not tell a story, but many stories with a common theme: the media and technological evolution at the expense of growth and, more specifically, the concentration capacity of today's youth. Wilson also explains this well in a recent interview.

So, we cannot speak of a change of course, but simply a “cleanup”: the album should be understood as a single suite of almost 50 minutes, progressive in its intentions, devoid not only of pop-appeal sounds but also of redundant embellishments, all to deliver the captivating music of Porcupine Tree reduced to its essence, as we had known it for some time, in short. We will find a Wilson who is hard, precise, and dreamy on the guitar, atmospheric, introspective, and fairly affected vocals, a Colin Edwin in a rather unusual version with his distorted bass, a dominating drum set, with Gavin Harrison in a state of grace, reaffirming himself here naturally among the best around, and finally an indispensable Barbieri who seasons it all with electronics to taste.

The standout piece of the album is the suite “Anesthetize” which should not be handled with care at all, rather it is smooth and fluid in all its 17 minutes, never suffering from repetitiveness or various expansions, perhaps the most attentive or picky might see almost "references" to modern prog, but the final result is quite pleasant. The introductory title track is the less atmospheric side of Porcupine Tree, quick and brisk, almost preparing us for the listening that follows; the real emotions, typical of Wilson, are given to us by two sweet and melancholic pieces: "My Ashes" and "Sentimental", where the voice, at times dark, at times clearer, is delightfully accompanied by acoustic arpeggios.

The heaviest moment of the album is present in "Way Out of Here", which explodes, after a delicate radiant introduction, into an outburst that manages to summarize the best of metal on one side and prog on the other, clearly distancing itself from the banality of the former and the excesses of the latter; furthermore, in this track, there is the presence of Robert Fripp in the soundscapes, and pardon me if that's not a small thing. The concluding "Sleep Together" is a bit underwhelming compared to the rest of the album, and I think that listening over time can only increase this sense of listlessness that the track reveals, especially in the repetitiveness of the arrangements that fail to recreate an atmosphere worthy of the group.

After various listens, it is evident that “Fear of a Blank Planet” is certainly a further confirmation of the band's maturity, and it allows us to appreciate not only the technical prowess (especially of Wilson and Harrison) but also and above all the compositional and arrangement tastes.

Perhaps the most captivating element of Porcupine Tree is the combination of melancholic and sunny atmospheres, and indeed, even the icy gaze of the child on the cover seems to look fearfully and hopefully towards the future.