Send "Steven Wilson " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Popmatters |
 This review, over the course of the next few years, will become one of seemingly countless reviews of an album that involves British polymath Steven Wilson. Between Porcupine Tree, the prog rock band that remains his most popular, No-Man, which remains his artistically successful group – not to mention Blackfield and Bass Communion – and the incredible number of records he produces and mixes (Opeth’s and Anathema’s newest records being the latest two), Wilson is perhaps the most prolific musician working in music today. All of his musical projects each express an individual aspect of his musical taste; Bass Communion’s dark, static drones are indicative of his love of noise, Blackfield demonstrates his ability to write a well written, catchy pop song, and Porcupine Tree allows Wilson just to rock out. It was rather interesting, then, when Wilson decided to create a self-titled, solo outlet for his musical vision with 2008’s Insurgentes. With Wilson, it seems that one is going to love his incredible artistic talent and his ability to wear many hats, or hate his often self-indulgent, inaccessible fare, as well as his purist stance on music quality (he roundly disparages MP3s and the modern record label culture). If one fell into the former of the two camps, then Insurgentes would have no doubt been an enjoyable record. While the more accessible elements of Porcupine Tree were present, the record served more as an integration of Wilson’s love of noisy and ambient textures into typical song structures. The masterful album highlight “Significant Other”, for instance, took an already brilliant guitar riff and built it up into a delirious, abrasive climax. The album was definitely a bright spot in Wilson’s career, and it legitimized his vision as a solo artist; this isn’t Wilson merely rehashing old ideas under a different name. Fast-forward to three years later, and the noise that was so prevalent on Insurgentes has now given way to a different sort of experimentation: progressive jazz. Given his extensive work on remixing and remastering the King Crimson back catalogue, it’s no surprise that their influence is present on Grace for Drowning. The album’s skill comes in balancing the deeply melodic with the daringly complex, but the latter of those two elements comes out most often, especially when he devotes twenty-three minutes to exploring it (“Raider II”). Grace for Drowning isn’t a radical transformation of Wilson’s various sonic experiments; instead, it’s a highly refined, rich synthesis of his artistic vision as a whole. The album is a natural progression of all that Wilson has been doing up to this point, and it caps all of his most recent work rather nicely....full text |
| Metalbuzz |
| Let me just say that I’m a HUGE Neal Morse fan. Whether it’s old Spock’s Beard records, Transatlantic, or his solo stuff, I love it all. The funky guitar riffs, the Kansas-style keyboards, the synthesized horns, Morse could put the same album out every single time and I’d line up to buy it. I guess when you think about it, Neal Morse has released the same album again and again. He’s got his bag of tricks, and these past few years has taken from it pretty consistently. And to be honest I’m okay with that because as far as Neal Morse is concerned, I subscribe to the “if-a-little-is-good-then-more-is-better” theory. And so far it hasn’t really let me down. Every couple of years I’ve got another album to listen to. Another treatise on Christianity and spirituality I’ve got to defend to my wife who is a Communist and doesn’t enjoy such things. Now we’ve got “Grace for Drowning,” the latest solo album from Porcupine Tree frontman Steven Wilson, who himself reminds me a lot of Neal Morse. Not because they’re so musically similar but because they’re both creatures of habit. They’ve both got their styles and with a few exceptions here and there they stick to them. I’ve heard “Grace for Drowning” described as an experimental album, and that’s an apt enough description. But don’t let it fool you. Wilson hasn’t suddenly spun off in a million crazy new directions. This is experimental in the sense that experiments are repeated over and over again until certain hypotheses are proven. Each one is more structured than the last. In any case, “Drowning” is more structured than “Insurgentes,” which itself seemed to be a run-up to Porcupine Tree’s “The Incident.” The entire thing opens with “Grace for Drowning,” a title track that’s all piano and vocals and classic Wilson before moving into the heavier “Sectarian.” And it’s here that we really begin to notice the difference between this album and the last. With its staccato guitar and synthesized vocals, “Sectarian” feels like something taken straight from the last Magellan album. A bit of saxophone gives the track a slight Mars Volta vibe. “Deform to Form a Star” returns us to that Porcupine Tree sound we know so well. It’s familiar and some might even say done before, but if we’re PT fans, who cares? And if it’s “Lightbulb Sun” PT as opposed to “The Incident,” then doubly so. Things cruise along with “Postcard,” Wilson’s attempt at Coldplay, before heading into “Raider Prelude,” which is more of the same ambiance and droning vocals that really seemed to clog up “Insurgentes.” “Remainder the Black Dog” is really of a piece with “Sectarian” in that it marries that Magellan and Mars Volta sound. It’s also at this point in the album that we begin hearing a very strong jazz influence. Heavy keyboards and a lot of distortion keep things feeling modern. With the exception of “Index,” which mixes some snare, techno beats and “Deadwing”-style vocals, the next big stop is “Raider II,” Wilson’s 23-minute progressive rock jazz fusion—well, I wouldn’t quite call it epic, because it’s not so much epic as it is long. And calling it long isn’t a knock against it. I think of it more as an extended jam session. That might end up working against it, as there’s nothing in particular that sets it apart from the rest of the album. It’s a good song, just long....full text |
| Stereoboard |
| It would be easy to write this album off as a prog rock indulgence. At over eighty minutes in length and stretched out over two discs, there is no doubting that 'Grace for Drowning' is an epic in an era in which albums beyond fifty minutes or so in length are resolutely unfashionable. However what has always marked out Steven Wilson’s work from many of the classic prog artists, and indeed what has distinguished his band Porcupine Tree from many other modern prog bands such as Dream Theater, is his lack of willing to engage in unnecessarily lengthy bouts of musical virtuosity. In fact, despite its extended running time, 'Grace for Drowning' arguably proves this point better than any of his other works. For a work so defiantly widescreen in its intentions as this it is truly remarkable that there is nothing that could, or rather should, be accused of being filler or being over the top. The album has always been the ultimate art form in the eyes of many and 'Grace for Drowning' is certainly a work of art. The gentle, lullaby-esque title track begins the first disc, 'Deform to Form a Star', in a disarmingly tranquil fashion before the riffs of instrumental 'Sectarian' twist and turn in a style that would make Robert Fripp proud. The piano led 'Deform to Form a Star' is genuinely beautiful and the metallic trip-hop of 'No Part of Me' makes for a bewildering detour. By the time the first disc closes with the double header of 'Raider Prelude' and 'Remainder the Black Dog', the album is veering into progressive jazz territory with delightful results. Yet despite the menagerie of influences and genres present nothing feels out of place. One criticism that could, fairly if incorrectly in this reviewer’s opinion, be levelled at Wilson’s first solo record, 'Insurgentes', was that sometimes elements could be seen as somewhat counter-productive and strained. There is no danger of that here. Although there are occasional moments of genuine heaviness, this is not a heavy record. Whilst some of Porcupine Tree’s recent albums could easily be filed in the metal section this is an album that uses heaviness as a tool only sparingly, making it doubly effective. The second disc, 'Like Dust I Have Cleared from My Eye', again starts off gently but progresses into disturbing territory on the creepy 'Index' and into full on avant-garde jazz land on the mammoth twenty-three minute 'Raider II'. By the time 'Like Dust I Have Cleared from My Eye' closes the album completely Wilson has managed to lure the listener in not just with incredibly atmospheric soundscapes but also the odd genuine hook or two, and of course some incredible musicianship. This is not an album that will appeal to everyone. It is hard work at times and it takes a good few listens to fully appreciate, but the reward of perseverance is astonishing. Don’t expect Wilson to break into the mainstream with this record but if this doesn’t gain him praise from even the most hardened of critics then it is a travesty. Without doubt this is one of the best records produced in many, many years and in years to come it should, with any justice, be remembered as a landmark release by one of the world’s few true ground-breaking artists....full text |
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