The highly productive London musician Steven Wilson has developed and released over time, for his Porcupine Tree, a secondary discography, so to speak, parallel to the main one and composed of leftovers, alternative versions, B-sides of singles, and various other supplementary materials to the primary releases.
One of these complementary works is the present “Recordings,” a 2001 compilation consisting essentially of snippets and leftovers from a couple of albums, notably “Stupid Dream” (1999) and “Lightbulb Sun” (2000), tracks that at the time were released or not as B-sides of their respective singles.
The only track that overlaps with what is contained in Porcupine’s “noble” LPs/CDs is represented by the massive “Even Less,” one of the pillars of “Stupid Dream”; here proposed in an extended version of nearly fourteen minutes, double the previous length and essentially consisting of a long instrumental segment that eventually blooms into further, meaningful verses punctuated by a Crimson-esque flute. The rest, the other eight pieces, are therefore unreleased or almost, giving the album its reason to be.
I haven’t found any particular strokes of Porcupine genius in these episodes, nothing that one could claim was a mistake to exclude from the “series A” album lineups. In general, they are all more or less very “atmospheric,” slow, obviously played, sonorized, and mixed with the exquisite class that distinguishes this English prodigy with excellent, outstanding ears.
What struck me the most? Well, the opening number “Buying New Soul” is there as the standout piece, but it is really stretched too long (over 10 minutes); the sung and choral part may not have one of those winning melodies that Wilson has achieved multiple times, yet it is pleasantly ethereal and psychedelic, reminding me of David Crosby’s works.
“Access Denied” couldn’t be more contrasting: repeated piano, distorted voice, skewed melodies worthy of Syd Barrett, while the following “Cure of Optimism,” when the acoustic guitar comes into play, distinctly transported me back to the atmospheres of Pink Floyd’s “More.” Very evocative nonetheless.
Remarkable is the wah-wah pedal spiced sax by guest Theo Travis on the instrumental “Ambulance Chasing,” another dreamy and layered track until it is sharpened by leader Wilson’s acerbic slide guitar. Last mention for the closing “Oceans Have No Memory” (great title), another instrumental consisting of Wilson’s exploration of a jazz guitar with a great sound, over a skilful bed of Hammond organ.
With Wilson and his associates, (almost) nothing goes to waste… certainly never an entire album, even if this one is not considered essential. The cover is delightful anyway, featuring a series of century-old vintage photos.
"This is not the usual album of odds & sodds. There’s substance here."
"Steven Wilson magnificently encapsulates all his past experiences into one unique journey in the driver’s seat."