I had no idea of how Porcupine Tree were going to develop after In Absentia. In my book, that album made their mark in the rock music hall of fame permanent, and I think Wilson and co. were rather happy with it. The Futile EP gave me hope of a new masterpiece. The title track was harder than anything on In Absentia, while still retaining that wonderful, soaring, ethereal quality, so quintessential to the PT soundscape.

Well, the Deadwing promo recently found its way to my bunker, and I have to say that even though I don’t (as of yet, at least) think it’s quite as enveloping and poignant as In Absentia, it’s certainly up there in music heaven.

The aforementioned previous album definitely shines through as the main stepping stone towards this new Porcupine Tree sound. The Soundgarden (I think) influences apparent on Futile have unquestionably taken root and fused with those oh-so-fundamental branches of Pink Floyd, which in turn seem ever less dominating. At the same time, the softer touches have been brightened and thinned to the extent that they occasionally, together with certain vocal effects remind me of early Electric Light Orchestra.

Deadwing is in parts forcefully rocky and metallic by measures hitherto unheard in the band’s history. Wilson is riffing away with abandon whenever the mood hits him, and some of the grooves are immensely catchy, while some sound like dusted-down eighties staples. The mixing is noticeably more distinct and crisp than on previous albums. I don’t know if this is simply the effect of increased studio possibilities or if it’s a conscious choice; it could indeed be both. In any event, the upside is a heightened sense of presence, while the downside sees that swaying, jamming feel losing some of its innate magic. Mood-wise, Deadwing is noticeably more forlorn than its immediate predecessors, almost completely forgoing those sunny, smiling ascensions for sharper, darker tones.

Ok, so let’s do a track rundown…

Deadwing

The first track of an album is important, even to a fan. It sets the scene for the musical narrative to follow. As such, “Deadwing” does its job fairly well, but it fails to amaze. We’re spoiled with glorious introductory tracks such as “Lightbulb Sun” and “Blackest Eyes”. (You can tell I love In Absentia, can’t you?) While “Deadwing” is a good song, it doesn’t quite stand up to its peers because it’s not, at least to me, an instant affliction. On the other hand, it does reflect the album, which also requires a bit of persistence to blossom in your mind. The song has similarities to “Tinto Brass”, layered with those hallmark melancholy lyrics and bridged with varied, often rocking sections. The ominous, whispered part of the refrain is very nice. All in all, this is definitely not a bad track.

Shallow

Arr! Here be riffs, and by Page’s strings, they be hard! “Shallow” starts out heavily and catches you in the solar plexus. The refrain reminds me of retro-progressive stoner acts like Danish Dizzy Mizz Lizzy and maybe even U.S. trip-rockers Monster Magnet, striated with verses of wide poppish swathes in the vein of Lightbulb Sun. Futile was obviously not just a capricious detour. This here is a smashing and addicting track.

Lazarus

Sharply contrasting “Shallow”, this ballad has a cotton-cloud sweetness that almost reaches boy-band insulin levels. I can imagine indiepop fans getting into this. Hell, I can imagine teeny-poppers worshiping it! Reminiscent of tracks like “Waiting”, it still seems to lack the diversity and variation I’ve come to expect from Porcupine Tree. The juxtaposition of piano and guitar should be deeply familiar to any fan of the band, and “Lazarus” sees the return of the banjo.

Halo

“…god is on the cell-phone; god is on the net…” Bass-driven, funky, sardonic and evocative; this could be nothing but post-Absentia Porcupine Tree. “Pure Narcotic” meets “The Creator Has A Mastertape”. Tightly balanced, inspired eruptions on pop-rock sensibility gives testament to the enduring virtuosity of the band. I believe this is my favourite track on the album and it might very well mature into one of my favourite PT tracks of all time.

Arriving Somewhere, But Not Here

Once again, I’m reminded of stoner rock, but this time of the calm, acoustic variety. “Lightbulb Sun” is here, together with “Heartattack in a Lay By”, broken off by a long, heavy, metallic bridge section that doesn’t really sound like anything I’ve heard Porcupine Tree play before, which in turn sprouts a very catchy upbeat. Wilson’s fascination with aggressive metal continues to influence the band’s sound. In the end, this is a nice and somewhat distinguished song that might be just a tad too long.

Mellotron Scratch

As the name sounds like a work-title, I expected this one to be instrumental, but I was wrong. It’s a calm, quirky pop-song which relates back to early-day Tree psychedelic melancholia through crisp consciousness like encountering old friends and realising that they’ve changed over the years. While you know them and love them, they’re also strangers. Oh, and the crescendo is lovely. (No drugs were abused during the writing of this review.)

Open Car

“…here it begins; here is the sin - something to lie about…” …and then the riffs return, flowing with emotional melancholy into an occasionally almost symphonic sound. This is primarily a knotted metal track with PT-pop^TM lapses. Bitterness and loving agony permeate the song - post-modern heartbreak. Memorable.

The Start of Something Beautiful

Occasional synthetic touches accompany further recollections of early days run through that succinct mental filter. Repetitive rhythms dressed in wave-like guitar motions alternating between reproachful and angry gloom. The sentimental passage has a piano and a banjo playing in unison, which creates a rather interesting ring.

Glass Arm Shattering

A gorgeous title for a song that traces a familiar, near-subliminal drift. “Russia On Ice” folded into “Every Home Is Wired”, though fading rather than bursting, touched again with what came before. Another classically dejected Porcupine Tree track that nicely concludes the album.

She’s Moved On (Extra Track)

I think this is a remix of the song. If it isn’t, the band has inhuman discipline, because everything sounds exactly the same, save for the changes in effects and clarity. A nice variation, though I think I like the original version better.

This is an album that takes conscious listening. It grows on you, but it’s not as instantly entrancing as its predecessor. It’s also more derivative than most Porcupine Tree albums, and that makes it less memorable. Having already heard and adored the band’s previous endeavours, you notice some new influences and ideas, but the songs don’t stick the way they would if you’d just discovered the act. On the upside, however, Wilson and his colleagues have taken inspiration from the first few albums, occasionally evoking that sense of intimacy and obscure emotional revelry that wavered during the “Lightbulb Sun” / “Stupid Dream” era. Altogether, it’s a piece worth having and listening to more than a few times. It’s the new Porcupine Tree, continuing to enrich our lives.

“…I’ve got a halo ‘round me; I’ve got a halo ‘round me; I’ve got a halo ‘round my head…”