Steven Wilson
Hand. Cannot. Erase.

Steven Wilson is undoubtedly one of the most active, brilliant, and eclectic artists of the last 25 years. His fourth solo album is released in quick succession with the previous (and acclaimed) two albums: Hand. Cannot. Erase., a name that speaks volumes. As every year, it's one of the most anticipated albums by an ever-growing audience, but after the overwhelming success of The Raven That Refused To Sing (2013), Wilson will really have to amaze to avoid having this album perceived as a step backward.

The first track, First Regret, begins softly with some samples, then gives way to a simple piano composition audaciously filtered, complete with electronic percussion in the background, something not new for Wilson, but certainly not among his most frequent. With 3 Years Older, things start to stir. A poignant Mellotron Strings intro is abruptly interrupted by a Rush-like riff in alternating meter. Immediately noticeable is the confirmation of the devastating talents of every single band member, as Marco Minnemann on drums, a bass solo by Nick Beggs, and a guitar solo by Guthrie Govan follow one another. Then the tones fade, leaving only acoustic guitar and bass. Wilson's voice debuts, drier and sharper than the standard, on lines reminiscent of the sixties. After a couple of choruses, the band's full flair returns, and soon Adam Holzman also has a chance to showcase a rich piano solo. The riff is resumed multiple times with different veins, from the unsettling to the rosy, with some breakdowns and additional solos. Certainly a good playground for some live jamming, but frankly, on record, it may feel a bit overextended.

This is followed by the title track, Hand. Cannot. Erase, perhaps Wilson's most pop song since Stupid Dream, leaving aside some feats with Blackfield. Strong and catchy vocal line, deliberately sentimental lyrics, but beware, a song in odd time signature yet atypical, unexpected guitar strumming, and hints of a bass solo. A definitely enjoyable track, seemingly simple, perfect for an intelligent and pleasant, accessible single at the same time. Perfect Life, already released in a music video weeks before the album's release, immediately presents almost unprecedented sounds for Wilson's career (which is saying something). Atmospheric trip-hop-like sounds combined with industrial percussion and a narration by a female voice. The track takes us back to fantastic and nostalgia-laden times on a conceptual level. The story told within the album starts to become clearer. Soon Wilson begins to sing an ethereal melody, embedding it in a saturation growing arrangement that leaves little hope of not being deeply moved, with powerful bass, tear-jerking chords, and visions of paradise. With a moment of spotlight for the stick, the track fades slowly to conclude altogether.

Routine returns to the extended durations of the second track, starting again with a dry and sharp voice, accompanied by Holzman's piano. After a post-rock reminiscent moment, Ninet Tayeb, an Israeli singer enlisted by Wilson for some performances on his fourth solo album, enters for the first time. Unprecedented is the intertwining of her voice with Wilson's, in one of those typical babbling phases sometimes inserted by Wilson in his albums. Completely unexpectedly, a boy's choir voice appears, but its appearance is fleeting and makes room for a haunting acoustic guitar arpeggio, soon enriched with additional instrumentation before giving way to a bass solo and then a guitar solo. The piano returns with Ninet, who sings the boredom of typical female routine. Soon the atmosphere explodes, and the singer can soar to unprecedented heights before everything falls back into an electric arpeggio that accompanies Wilson's voice to the end of the track. All in all, this is the first quite typically Wilsonian track.

Home Invasion starts hauntingly, with a thin and tense Mellotron unexpectedly devastated by an irregular riff mainly based on bass and drums. The following electric piano groove is indescribable in words. After some adventures on a similar rhythm, another electric piano riff is proposed, confirming the moment of particular inspiration regarding it. Soon a filtered Wilsonian voice enters, whose lack of melodicity contrasts with the sweetness of the following chorus. Regret #9 begins in a manner completely connected to the end of the previous piece. The intro is entrusted to synthetic basses assisted by a drum rhythm soon overwhelmed by a Moog solo of rare wisdom, sharing the piece with a guitar solo of similar caliber, a sign that Govan has not lost his shine, and indeed, if I may say, he has even acquired more taste than in the previous work with Wilson. The last minute is left to an atmospheric piano outro and what might seem like a mandolin.

With a bang, Transience also begins: a guitar arpeggio with some scary Taurus synthetic basses. Wilson's voice moves through terrains that at times remind of those explored on the only album by Storm Corrosion. With an unexpected yet fitting chorus, the two minutes of this little gem soon conclude. Ancestral, which at over thirteen minutes represents the longest piece on the album, takes us back to terrains owned by Massive Attack, then also traversed by Theo Travis's flute (much less present than usual). The atmosphere is decidedly haunting and remains so for a long time, with particularly grim arrangements and passages, always accompanied by a nice measured yet evocative electronic groove. Soon a spectacular vocal line emerges, the tones rise, the full band enters, and things happen that would be useless to describe. A moment of great tension flows into a guitar solo, to say the least orgasmic, by a Govan more inspired than ever. However, it's a real shame this section wasn't entrusted to Ninette, as had happened in a snippet released months before the album's publication. The singer, however, appears after the solo, briefly dueting with Wilson, before giving space to a section with a tight rhythm, initially more relaxed in atmosphere, but soon brought to dangerous tensions by a more animated and tense arrangement, giving rise to a breakdown followed by a building and accelerating section, the heaviest on the album, decidedly anxiety-inducing. Yet another breakdown features electric piano sounds filtered to the extreme with a jazzy drum accompaniment and some flute splashes here and there. Then the characteristic heaviness of the previous section resumes, with a few more guitar flourishes. The piece then ends forcefully.

Happy Returns immediately presents very atmospheric sounds and intriguing harmonies. The entrance of Wilson's voice is glorious, with a notable vocal line and a measured yet impactful piano accompaniment. The second verse is more saturated but of equal emotional weight. Memorable is also the guitar and choir texture that follows. After a sequence of babbling, Govan's extravagant guitar reappears, magnificently gliding over the increasingly celestial chords of the piece, only to conclude everything rather unexpectedly. The piece's outro flows into the final Ascendant Here On..., which reprises the piano chords from Perfect Life with the ethereal addition of a children's choir, for a muted finale.

But let's sum it up.

With Steven Wilson, you never quite know what to expect, other than, generally, an excellent album. However, it's impossible not to have any expectations in this regard, and those of the person writing have been disappointed. Not necessarily in a negative way, but it simply wasn't what I would have expected, even though I had a very vague idea of what I would find in front of me. It's always difficult to give a judgment on the first listen, but in this case, I find it practically impossible because I'm baffled. Therefore, I will try to abandon as much as possible a judgmental attitude in favor of a more merely descriptive one.

Hand. Cannot. Erase. is probably the most heterogeneous album of Steven Wilson. Dark and heavenly, semi-electronic and acoustic tracks bind without too many issues... as always, but with a somewhat less natural twist in this case. Far fewer fusion references than in the past, in favor of a more direct and generally simpler sound, more focused on the sounds and the concept, on which I will not comment until a more thorough analysis of the lyrics is conducted. Also noteworthy is the appearance of a female voice, certainly not something frequent in Wilson's discography, considered universally. The vocal performances, despite some moments of questionable taste, reach peaks of absolute stature; the guitar solos are as explosive as ever and all the group members perform in a way that is nothing short of dignified. Less present are Travis's winds, proving fusion influence's decline, which we could say is almost replaced in prominence by the trip-hop one. Elements such as the children's voices (and even Ninet's) are perhaps underused but they make quite an impression when they appear. Truth be told, there are several ideas that might seem not fully developed, not to mention a general fragmentation of the tracks sometimes brought to perhaps excessive levels. An initially lighter and more carefree part of the album is followed by a much heavier and especially unsettling second part, except for a few sections and the last two tracks. The expanded structure reigning in The Raven That Refused To Sing is abandoned in favor of tracks that are largely shorter (and the longer ones frankly seem often extended in a somewhat forced manner), sometimes even very brief, just over interludes. Decisively, in general, we can say that the direct influence of a certain type of seventies progressive rock is much less prominent than in the previous two works, but this doesn't mean the album recalls Insurgentes, except for a few occasional moments. And this can only please all those like myself who hope for a continuous evolution on the part of an artist, especially one like Wilson.

There would still be much to say, with too many things I could mention only prematurely. What I will limit myself to saying for now, as a judgment, is that it's a rather baffling album, largely breaking with the past and featuring first-class performances (as usual), an interesting concept and elements of absolute novelty for the now boundless discography of Wilson. My judgment can only be positive, although I cannot hide a bitter aftertaste that I still have to decipher and that leads me to consider this album less successful than at least the previous two works. But after all, with the previous ones, we're talking masterpieces. In this Hand. Cannot. Erase. case, I'm initially talking about a phenomenal album, and judgment tends to rise with repeated listens. So, I can only wait and recommend it to everyone for a listen!