By now, the wait for the latest release from one of my favorite bands had become almost nerve-wracking; I even dreamed about it at night, repeating the same questions at least 100 times a day: what will it be like? Will they continue on the same path as "In Absentia" and the previous "Deadwing"? Will they return to their past, picking up the much more psychedelic and Pink Floyd-like sound from albums like "The Sky Moves Sideways" and "Signify"?
Now I have 'Fear of a Blank Planet' in my hands, and I cannot help but be amazed, once again, by the brilliance of this man (the great Steven Wilson) and this band that continues to climb, album after album, to unattainable heights; to places where common people do not think and especially cannot reach.
As soon as I had it in my hands, I was moved, and not being able to listen to it immediately (since I don't have a radio in the car and I live 40 kilometers away from CT, where I bought it), my mood went into absolute excitement! Arriving home, not even taking time to rest from the journey, the CD was already in the player, starting the phase of amazement, smiles, and tears of emotion that follow the listening. My questions found answers... the truth lies in between them: reworking of the past, new ideas, and an almost metal appeal seasoned with old and new psychedelia battling on the same field while the air around becomes dark and eerie.
But let's get to the details: the album opens with the title track, and right from the start, one can understand the atmosphere that will soon be felt; the piece grows amidst fantastic synth pads, crafted by the always amazing Richard Barbieri, guitars approaching metal becoming darker and more intense, and voices and openings in simply sensational choruses, up to the central explosion hinting at King Crimson-inspired prog rock.
It then moves to the second track, My Ashes, where everything becomes sweeter and more intimate with a real string section creating emotional ups and downs that would send shivers down the spine of even the most cynical and ruthless among you; perhaps comparable to the previous work's Lazarus, which caused a scandal for being too commercial, although placed on a higher step due to its atmospheric search and arrangement layering.
But it is with the third track, Anesthetize, that we come to the absolute masterpiece of the album, destined to become one of the band's most beautiful and successful suites, alongside the sensational and unforgettable "The Sky Moves Sideways" from the eponymous album of '93. Divided into three different sections: the first almost tribal with Tool-like influences here and there, keyboards creating the substrate on which the other instruments inexorably rest, but above all with harmonies and atmospheric layers that bring to mind certain 70s psychedelic rock (Pink Floyd first and foremost), all complemented by Wilson's usual dreamy and elegant voice; a solo from the guru Alex Lifeson (of the seminal Rush), worthy of his class, acts as a bridge to the second part of the piece; the atmosphere shifts and becomes heavier and instinctive, the tide rises, elevates on heavy guitars that cannot but lead to an astonishing and unexpected metal section, recalling at worst the more technical and death-oriented thrash metal, for the fervor with which the instruments are violated, always taking into consideration that it's Porcupine Tree playing... thus enters the third and last part, where the atmosphere once again becomes dreamy and melancholic, reminiscent of the band's past, that of albums like Stupid Dream and Lightbulb Sun; an emotional crescendo brings to a conclusion this masterpiece, where the 17-minute duration does not weigh at all and everything flows smoothly.
The album is closed by the vaguely Anathema-like atmospheres of Sentimental, which reprises towards the end a riff from Trains (a track from the unforgettable 'In Absentia') and where the compositional class of these extraordinary men is felt; immediately followed by the dark and mental Way Out of Here, where a soundscape design by master Robert Fripp (guitarist and main mind of the aforementioned King Crimson) also makes its appearance; the piece rises inexorably until opening up into a dreamy chorus with megaphone-like voice leading to a conclusive metal and paced part that recalls certain Tool and even some calmer Mastodon, interspersed with bursts of chorus that soften in preparation for the subsequent thrash; magnificent!
The conclusion belongs to the darkest yet simplest track, structurally speaking, of the platter: Sleep Together. The orchestral section is beautiful, which especially in the finale designs phrasing and harmonies vaguely Middle Eastern, taking everything to a superior level and of infinite class, as they themselves have taught us.
Thus ends and concludes a masterful album for technique, atmospheres, emotions, and the class it exudes. What else to say, the album is a quasi-concept (quasi because it is not a narrated story but rather tracks with the same themes) that stages contempt for a generation, those from the '90s onwards, growing with an unfillable void, bombarded by media, computer, and rapid-fire information, thus unable to store and have the time to enrich themselves culturally, to read a healthy and beneficial book, for example... the child on the cover, with those empty and expressionless eyes, is the perfect image that could best represent this problem.
Porcupine Tree never ceases to amaze me... I have always loved them and still do, they manage to make me feel inhuman emotions with all the class they possess. They continue on their path, experimenting, album after album, with new forms of expression, but maintaining an always high overall level, and this is only characteristic of the greats.
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