Out of his Tree, into deep space...
For those already familiar with Wilson’s formidable musical history (Porcupine Tree, Blackfield, and Bass Communion to name a very few), it may be surprising that he’s releasing his new album under his own name. But just as every project of his is unmistakably his, it also belongs to a select part of his musical world, and this is a step in a new direction. Already an acknowledged maverick and experimenter, with ‘Insurgentes’ Wilson has created something extraordinary.
’Harmony Korine’ is a swirling epic, full of melting arpeggios and delicate vocals. It’s bliss on record, especially when compared to the edgier and more discomforting ‘Abandoner’, with its barely-there harmonics and sudden burst into darker, dangerous heavy bass. It’s a musical journey, sometimes barely more than the underlying riff plays, and then all hell breaks loose. It’s the kind of emotional rollercoaster that Matt Bellamy can only dream of writing.
‘Salvaging’ and ‘Only Child’ have heavy beats and are probably as close to traditional rock songs as this album comes, while the slow, considered noise beneath it all, ensures that into whichever territory this collection drifts, it flows its way there seamlessly. There’s no rush to get from one song to another, or to bring one particular instrument to the fore for a whole song. The beautiful and mysterious atmosphere comes as much from the instrumental ebb and flow as from the soft-spoken lyrics. It’s the aural equivalent of a journey into space: heartachingly beautiful, but such a massive concept it hurts the brain to think about it.
The gorgeous piano on ‘Veneno Para Les Hadas’ and ‘Insurgentes’ weaves its way in and out of the front of the mix and adds a whole new dimension to something primarily synth-driven. It’s the same around ‘Twilight Coda’, where piano rings alongside bells, alongside synth. The tempo barely ever increases, but it doesn’t need it to create an intense atmosphere. It’s a tribute to the art of arrangement and production as well as musicianship. It’s almost a shock when the sharp stabs of guitar pierce the comfortable rhythm for ‘No Twilight’ and ‘Significant Other’, another break into heavy prog rock territory. And then it’s reigned in again, as if it had never happened, time after time. At times the track listing is difficult to follow, but the trick is to let it wash over you.
Pink Floyd, Radiohead, and to an extent Rick Wakeman might be the most archetypal comparisons for this spaced-out melancholy, but not without good reason. And ‘Insurgentes’ richly deserves to be mentioned, not as a follower, but as an equal.