Steven Wilson – The Overview – Album Review

The Cover of The Overview by Steven Wilson, designed by Hajo Müller

His Eighth Solo Album

The Overview is Steven Wilson’s eighth solo album, released on 14 March 2025. It charted at number three in the UK, the fourth of Wilson’s albums (as a solo artist or with his band Porcupine Tree) in a row to reach the UK top five. On his website, Wilson described the album as ‘a Kubrickian journey into the darkness of outer space.’ 

Steven Wilson. Image credit: Kevin Westerberg
Steven Wilson. Image credit: Kevin Westerberg

The Overview Effect

The album takes its title from the Overview Effect, a term coined by author and space philosopher Frank White in his book The Overview Effect: Space Exploration and Human Evolution to describe the cognitive shift experienced by astronauts looking back on the Earth from space. 


[The Overview Effect] is the experience of seeing first hand the reality that the Earth is in space, a tiny, fragile ball of life, “hanging in the void,” shielded and nourished by a paper-thin atmosphere. The experience often transforms astronauts’ perspective on the planet and humanity’s place in the universe. Some common aspects of it are a feeling of awe, a profound understanding of the interconnection of all life, and a renewed sense of responsibility for taking care of the environment.

Frank White

The Overview Effect: Space Exploration and Human Evolution (First Edition Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 1987)


White, who interviewed astronauts about their experiences, wrote that during the initial stages of the Space Program, it was thought that, ‘All the astronauts have religious or spiritual experiences and that they all had their lives fundamentally changed… The reality is far more complex than that.’ He quoted the astronaut Don Lind, who said that having spoken to many other astronauts, he concluded that space travel would intensify previously held religious convictions but wouldn’t make someone religious.     

The Blue Marble. The Earth Seen from Apollo 17. Source: Wikimedia Commons

One of the most strikingly negative reactions to travelling into space, mentioned by Wilson in several interviews, was – ironically – from Captain Kirk, the actor William Shatner. In his 2022 book, Boldly Go: Reflections on a Life of Awe and Wonder, he wrote that when he was in space, he experienced profound sadness and grief. Eventually, this became a profound feeling of hope, inspiring him to say that we should ‘rededicate ourselves to our planet, to each other, to life and love all around us.’ 


There was no mystery, no majestic awe to behold . . . all I saw was death. I saw a cold, dark, black emptiness. It was unlike any blackness you can see or feel on Earth. It was deep, enveloping, all-encompassing… Everything I had expected to see was wrong… The contrast between the vicious coldness of space and the warm nurturing of Earth below filled me with overwhelming sadness.

Boldly Go: Reflections on a Life of Awe and Wonder (Atria Books, 2022)

William Shatner as Captain Kirk. Source: NBC Television, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons


Wilson coined his own phrase for the Overview Effect, ‘cosmic vertigo’, meaning a sense of the fragility of the Earth, and the insignificance of our lives in relation to the vastness of the cosmos. The existential struggle to make something of our lives, to make them signify something, is a recurring theme in Wilson’s lyrics, going back to Signify (Porcupine Tree, 1996). He told Dave Everley of Prog that ‘Religion is a classic manifestation of cosmic vertigo.’ As an atheist, he said that to give life meaning, humankind had invented religion.

‘The Earth doesn’t matter, our life doesn’t matter, and it’s a beautiful thing to accept this idea and enjoy the ride.’    

Steven Wilson

Wilson’s solution to the apparent futility and insignificance of our lives, and of the Earth in relation to the vastness of the universe, is not to embrace religion or misery. He told Musicwaves magazine that, ‘The Earth doesn’t matter, our life doesn’t matter, and it’s a beautiful thing to accept this idea and enjoy the ride.’   

Artist’s Impression of The Extremely Large Telescope. Source: Wikimedia Commons/eso.org

Frank White wrote, ‘ The impact of the [Overview] Effect is not limited to space travellers alone.’ Wilson described the profound awe and sense of insignificance he experienced when he visited the Extremely Large Telescope (ELT) in the Atacama Desert, Chile, in early 2025. At the album launch at IMAX in London in February 2025, a photo of Wilson standing next to the telescope was exhibited on the vast screen, and Wilson was a tiny orange dot wearing a hi-vis jacket. Reflecting on the Overview Effect led him to consider our insignificance and how it shapes our sense of perspective. During the roundtable discussion at the album launch, he said he could have called the album ‘Perspective … but it’s not as good a title as The Overview.’ 

The Gap Between Releases

The gap between the release of Wilson’s previous album, The Harmony Codex, in September 2023 and the release of The Overview was just under 18 months, a relatively short period considering the gap between his previous solo albums was around two to three years. He told Paul Sinclair of Super Deluxe Edition that there was a pragmatic reason for this. The Harmony Codex was his first album after COVID, and he felt that the previous album, The Future Bites, had been ‘very divisive amongst my fans.’  He didn’t book a tour supporting The Harmony Codex because he wasn’t sure how people would react to the album. By the time he realised that the album had gone down well, it was too late to book a tour for 2024. He decided that in the meantime, he might as well make another record. 

The Concept

While he was looking for a concept, Wilson met up with Alex Milas, Editor-in-Chief of Metal Hammer and founder of Space Rocks. This organisation describes itself as ‘a celebration of space exploration and the art, music, and culture it inspires.’ Wilson’s original idea was to collaborate with Milas on an exhibition or an installation for which he created the music. Then Milas mentioned the Overview Effect.  

The idea immediately appealed to Wilson. As a teenager, he had a fascination with space. He used to go out on summer evenings to gaze up at the stars. He enjoyed space films such as 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), Solaris (1972), and Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977). He wrote tracks about space on some of his previous albums, particularly for Porcupine Tree. At the IMAX album launch, he said that in a ‘split-second moment’ during his conversation with Milas, he had the title and the concept and heard the music in his head.’ He saw it as a ‘piece of cinema for the ears.’ 

He told Stephen Humphries of Under The Radar that he had written several albums about ‘planet Earth and human beings and the way we engage with each other.’ It was time to ‘write an album about something bigger than us.’ 

Humphries asked him why he was ‘asking these bigger questions’ now. Wilson admitted that perhaps he was having ‘my own existential crisis… of wanting more perspective on my own life’. Even so, he found it ‘fascinating’ to consider the vast numbers and distances in the universe. He told John Earls of NME that having a concept for the album before he started writing it led him to produce something that ‘intuitively felt like something long-form, analogous to a novel or a film.’ 

‘This record is definitely more informed by the genre hitherto referred to as progressive rock.’

Steven Wilson

Wilson told Dave Everley, ‘This record is definitely more informed by the genre hitherto referred to as progressive rock.’ Wilson has an uneasy relationship with the genre. His previous three albums certainly strayed from prog rock. To the Bone was an art-rock record with only one long track, ‘Detonation’; it also contained a happy pop song,  ‘Permanating.’ The Future Bites was resolutely electronic. Its longest track, ‘Personal Shopper’, was more like dystopian disco than prog. That album brought some of the best reviews of his career, ‘from the more indie, hipster people that hadn’t really paid attention to me before’, but it also lost some of his core prog audience. To an extent, he has always enjoyed challenging his prog audience, but he also respects that audience. Although the album does mark a return to prog rock, it’s far from the loving, nostalgic homage to prog of his 2013 solo album The Raven that Refused to Sing (and other stories).

The album’s structure

The album is divided into two long tracks of about 20 minutes each, ‘Objects Outlive Us’ and ‘The Overview.’ Wilson told The Prog Report that an album with only two long tracks was ‘a wilfully uncommercial gesture’ and that ‘the reason there are two pieces is I’m old and I still think in terms of vinyl.’  

Wilson referenced other records with the same structure, such as Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells (1973), Miles Davis’ In a Silent Way (1969) and Tangerine Dream’s Rubycon (1975). He told Tobias Fischer of Tonefloat Magazine that he has always liked ‘great double albums with just one track per side.’ He referred to Tales from Topographic Oceans (1973 UK, 1974 US) by Yes, which he remixed in 2016, as a ‘much maligned record, but I love it.’

Writing the Album

Wilson told Anil Prasad of Innerviews that ‘the idea and title came before I had written a single note of music… It’s nice when something this strong falls into your lap.’ The album almost wrote itself. Wilson wrote it in the order we hear it, and the lyrics came last.

At a Q&A session at Cultplex in Manchester in February 2025, Wilson told John Robb that ‘one doorway led to the next’, and that the album flowed out of him, ‘it doesn’t always work that way.’ It took Wilson only eight weeks to record the album at his home studio. The process was quite different from recording The Raven That Refused to Sing in a studio, surrounded by other musicians. He played all the bass parts, as he did on the most recent Porcupine Tree album, Closure/Continuation (2022). When he toured with Porcupine Tree, Nate Navarro played the bass parts. When he toured The Overview, the bass parts were played by Nick Beggs.

The Musicians

As with all his albums, except the very early ones with Porcupine Tree, Wilson used real drummers rather than using electronic drums or playing them himself. For the first side of the record, he used Russell Holzman, son of his regular keyboard player, Adam Holzman. Wilson said he wanted a drummer with no apparent connection to progressive rock, or even to rock music in general. Holzman plays drums for the American singer Caroline Polachek. Wilson had seen his renditions of classic drum and bass breaks on Instagram. On the second side, Wilson brought in his regular drummer, Craig Blundell, partly because of his experience as a prog rock drummer with Steve Hackett, but also because of his wide-ranging knowledge of multiple musical genres. 

OBJECTS OUTLIVE US  

No Monkey’s Paw  

The opening describes an eerie meeting on a misty moor. Wilson refers to two ghost stories that may have occurred on the moor (recalling the ghost stories on which his 2013 album The Raven that Refused to Sing is based) but says that neither happened here.   

First, there is ‘no ghost on the moor’/no open window’. This appears to reference Kate Bush’s 1978 song Wuthering Heights, set ‘Out on the wily, windy moors’, when the ghost of Catherine Earnshaw haunts Heathcliff at his window. Bush, of whose music Wilson is a huge fan, memorably sings,  

‘Heathcliff, it’s me, I’m Cathy 
I’ve come home, I’m so cold
Let me in your window.’ 
 

Second, there is ‘no monkey’s paw’. The Monkey’s Paw is a ghost story by the English author W.W. Jacobs, first published in 1902. It describes a magical monkey’s paw, which provides three wishes that lead to unforeseen and terrible consequences. According to the story, the holy man who put the spell on the paw, ‘wanted to show that fate ruled people’s lives, and that those who interfered with it did so to their sorrow.’  

The Alien on the Moor. Image courtesy of Miles Skarin/Crystal Spotlight

Instead, Wilson’s protagonist looks beyond Earthbound ghost stories and into space, encountering an alien on the moor. The alien pointedly says, ‘Did you forget I exist?’ The protagonist blames the alien for playing ‘too hard to get.’ In the BFI roundtable discussion to launch the album, Wilson said the reference to the alien is ‘a bit tongue in cheek’, but that there was a ‘serious point’, which is that we spend too much time looking down at our digital devices, and not enough time looking up ‘with a sense of awe’ at the sky and the stars, as he did when he was a child. We have lost our sense of curiosity and wonder and are obsessed with chasing likes and followers on social media, a central theme of Wilson’s 2020 album The Future Bites. The theme that technology has changed the course of human evolution, and not necessarily for the better, goes back to Fear of a Blank Planet, the 2007 album Wilson wrote for Porcupine Tree.  

The track opens with Wilson singing in a gorgeous falsetto, showing how strong his upper register has become since he started developing this part of his vocal range on The Future Bites. His voice is bathed in echo, evoking the ethereal rather than the Earthbound. His voice is gentle and intimate, beautifully contemplative, enriched by the sound design and spacey effects created by Randy McStine, who also plays guitar and sings backing vocals on the album. Wilson plays the soft-edged bass line on an acoustic bass. The alien’s voice is Wilson’s own, transposed to a lower register using the same effect as on ‘King Ghost’ from The Future Bites

The Buddha Of The Modern Age 

The Buddha of the title refers to Siddhartha Gautama, better known as the Buddha, the founder of Buddhism. According to Buddhist teaching, the Buddha will be succeeded by Maitreya, sometimes referred to as ‘The Buddha of the modern age.’ Wilson’s lyrics refer to a contemporary Buddha, who is ‘barely paid minimum wage’ for doling out ‘truth and healthy karma.’ Wilson says his teaching is ignored. In a poetic line, he refers to humanity ignoring the truths revealed by the wise men of the past, who are now mere shadows to us, ‘the blurred photos of the ghosts of men’.  

The lyrics in this section are the most personal on the album. Wilson is rarely so open and direct. He told Anil Prasad of Innerviews, ‘I’ve always been slightly wary of being too preachy or holier than thou,’ but he feels so strongly about the effect of meat eating not just on animals but on the planet that he’s ‘becoming a little more forthright about my veganism.’ 

‘Slaughter our sacred cow
To stuff our stupid mouths 
Already fit to burst  
Still the insatiable thirst 
To kill over and over’  

Wilson is highly critical of what he sees as the failure of our stewardship of the planet, which we regard as ours to treat however we want. The phrase ‘insatiable thirst’ refers to our appetite for food, our obsessive consumerism, and our destruction of the planet, ‘We interlopers, the inferior species/Wallow in our own faeces.’  

The Destruction of our Planet. Image courtesy of Miles Skarin/Crystal Spotlight

The track begins with a resolute piano motif which matches the stridency of Wilson’s opinions, soon joined by drummer Russell Holzman on icy cymbals – the first time we hear him on the album. Randy McStine and Willow Beggs soon join him on rich, layered backing vocals. Willow is a singer-songwriter and the daughter of bass player Nick Beggs. The backing vocals are reminiscent of those on Porcupine Tree songs like ‘Heartattack in a Layby’ from In Absentia (2002), which ends with 38 tracks of multi-tracked voices. The song builds to a climax, with thundering drums, then drops away on the word ‘try’, creating a moment of compassion for humanity as a gentler piano melody ends the track. 

Objects: Meanwhile

Steven Wilson – Objects Outlive Us: Objects: Meanwhile. Video by Miles Skarin

The lyrics for this section were written by Andy Partridge of the English rock band XTC, who also wrote the lyrics for the title track of Wilson’s 2017 album To The Bone (2017) and for his 2018 single How Big the Space. Wilson’s admiration for Partridge dates back to XTC’s formation of the fictitious band The Dukes of Stratosphear, which inspired Wilson to form his own fictional band, Porcupine Tree, which eventually became a real band.   

Wilson has said that Partridge and Ray Davies of the Kinks are the best at describing everyday lives in their lyrics. While writing The Overview, he was remixing XTC’s 1984 album The Big Express in surround sound. The Big Express is a concept album about life in Swindon, a town in Wiltshire in the southwest of England. The song that interested Wilson particularly was ‘The Everyday Story of Smalltown’. Partridge told Todd Bernhardt of XTC’s Blogs that ‘there’s a little vein of [Welsh poet] Dylan Thomas in there.’ Wilson told Stephen Humphries of Under the Radar that the song has ‘some of the most divine Little England observational lyric writing.’

He told Dave Everley of Prog that he rang Partridge with a challenge, ‘I want smalltown soap operas juxtaposed with cosmic phenomena.’ He wanted to put our ordinary lives in perspective – a central theme of the album – by providing links or contrasts with what was happening ‘meanwhile, on the other side of the universe.’ The two men entered a productive dialogue. Wilson was fascinated by Partridge’s comment that the lyrics make a significant difference in how you produce a track, particularly the vocals.   

A Teenager with his First Telescope. Image courtesy of Miles Skarin/Crystal Spotlight

Partridge fulfilled the brief perfectly. Events on Earth are sometimes linked with cosmic events,

‘As you queue at the bank for an hour
’Cause a solar flare blew out the power.’

Sometimes people on Earth are oblivious to the effect of cosmic events,

‘The driver in tears ‘bout his payment arrears 
Still nobody hears when a sun disappears
In a galaxy afar.’  

Sometimes the link is metaphorical, 

‘Her shopping bag broke, sending eggs and flour crashing
Down to the ground like star clusters smashing.’  

One of the verses refers to a ‘teenager with his first telescope’, which reflects Wilson’s nostalgia for his own teenage years, looking up at the sky, fascinated with space, before smartphones were invented. Robert Smith of The Cure shares that nostalgia. The track ‘Endsong’ from Songs of a Lost World (2024) was inspired by his memories of looking up at the sky with his father around the time of the Apollo 11 Moon landing in 1969. In another verse, a young man cleaning cars wonders, ‘Is there life on Mars?’, the title of David Bowie’s 1973 single.  

Some of the politics from To the Bone creeps in. That album addressed what some have described as a ‘post-truth’ world. Partridge’s lyric describes humans bickering about ‘fences’ – petty disputes between neighbours, and about ‘borders’ – between countries, often leading to war. The lyric wryly states that it’s best not to think about those disputes, an understandable reaction to the conflicts that have blighted the early years of the 2020s. There is deep sarcasm in the line, ‘It’s better to live without facts.’   

The track begins with a clear statement of a central musical theme. It’s a 19-note piano motif that restlessly snakes back on itself, returning every three beats to the same note (F#). It sounds straightforward when broken down into three-note segments, but the complete theme helps restore Wilson’s prog credentials due to its length. Wilson told Prasad that the basic melody is like a Shepard Tone, ‘in that it constantly ascends in whole tones.’ A Shepard Tone is an auditory illusion in which a repeated musical pattern appears to be constantly rising even though it remains in the same octave. Examples are the end of Pink Floyd’s ‘Echoes’ from Meddle (1971) and Hans Zimmer’s score for Christopher Nolan’s 2017 film Dunkirk.  

‘A bit of a masterpiece.’ Variations by Andrew LLoyd Webber

Wilson said the 19-note motif returns in different musical forms throughout Objects Outlive Us, like the use of the leitmotif (leading motif) in Richard Wagner’s operas or the musical formula in the works of Karlheinz Stockhausen, such as his massive opera cycle Licht (Light) (1977 – 2003). Wilson also referred to repeated themes in Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells (1973) and Pink Floyd’s ‘Echoes’. He told Humphries that Andrew Lloyd Webber’s 1978 album Variations, which repeatedly used a theme by the composer Niccolò Paganini, was ‘overlooked… [but] I think it’s a bit of a masterpiece, actually.’ The second track on the album was used as the theme tune for the television arts series The South Bank Show, which ran on ITV from 1978 to 2010, before moving to Sky Arts. 

After three statements of the 19-note theme, the central song of Objects Outlive Us begins, with an earworm of a melody. It’s decorated with Floydian sliding guitars and a plucked string theme played by Wilson. McStine provides gorgeous backing vocals that evoke the sound of Electric Light Orchestra (ELO). 

At around 3:30, there’s a blistering bass solo in the unusual time signature of 12/8. Each beat in the bar is divided into three semi-quaver (sixteenth note) triplets instead of the more usual two quavers (eighth notes). Perhaps surprisingly, Wilson plays it on an acoustic bass guitar. It’s heavily distorted and put through an amp with lots of overdrive. As Wilson repeats the bass riff, the track takes flight in the proggiest section of the album so far, as McStine adds an extra guitar line above the bass in the style of the new wave of British heavy metal (NWOBHM) bands of the late 70s and early 80s, such as Iron Maiden and Saxon. At around 4:45, the track stalls as a metaphorical handbrake is applied, then rouses itself with a drum flourish into a spacey instrumental before the vocals return. At 6:00, the 19-note theme returns, now in a driving, much heavier version for full band, followed by a gentle piano version that takes us back to the beginning of this section.  

In the sleeve notes, Wilson describes Theo Travis’ saxophones in the track as ‘Jaxonsaxes’, named after David Jackson, who played saxophone with Van der Graaf Generator, often playing two at once. His nickname is ‘Jaxon’. He worked on many of their albums, including a long run of classic albums in the 1970s.  

The Cicerones/Ark

The archaic word ‘cicerones’ is from the word ‘cicerone’, meaning a tour guide, derived from the name of the great Roman orator, Cicero (106 BC – 43 BC). The track’s title comes from a short story, The Cicerones, by the English writer Robert Aickman (1914 – 1981). The protagonist, John Trant, visits the Cathedral of Saint Bavon (presumably Saint Bavo) in Belgium. He begins a self-guided tour using a guidebook but soon meets various strange figures who act as his guides to the increasingly macabre sights of the cathedral. There’s a creeping sense of unease and the surreal. The eerie atmosphere builds in the same way as in Thomas M. Disch’s short story Descending, which inspired Wilson’s previous album and short story The Harmony Codex. The Cicerones was filmed for Film Four in 2002, in a short starring Mark Gatiss (The League of Gentlemen, Sherlock, Bookish). In the context of the track, the title refers to the guides who lead the remnants of humanity into space, following the planet’s destruction so graphically described earlier in ‘The Buddha Of The Modern Age.’ 

Leaving the Planet. Image courtesy of Miles Skarin/Crystal Spotlight

The Ark represents a new start, like Noah’s escape from the Flood in his ark with two of each animal. Compared with the relaxed rhyming couplets of Partridge’s lyrics in the previous section, the lyrics of this section are breathless, broken up into short sections. It’s a technique that goes back to ‘Open Car’ from Porcupine Tree’s Deadwing (2005). After the withering invective of ‘The Buddha Of The Modern Age’, only a few who warned about Earth’s destruction survived. It’s easy to miss the story – and the message – here amongst the turbulence of the lyrics. Humanity is leaving the Earth, which is now destroyed and reduced to dust. Ironically, when Prasad asked Wilson if he would rather live on Mars, he replied, ‘Mars is a planet of red dust. Earth is incredibly diverse, geographically, ecologically, and climate-wise.’

Wilson plays all the guitar parts at the beginning of this section. It starts with a gently contemplative acoustic guitar part, gorgeously recorded, that wouldn’t have been out of place on one of his early solo albums. After a rich keyboard wash, at about a minute in, the 19-note theme returns in a version for band and piano, and the section builds to a climax with repeated melody, with a similar feel to ‘Eclipse’, the epic finale to Pink Floyd’s The Dark Side of the Moon (1973). It’s also the emotional climax of the album’s first half, sung with gathering, hymn-like intensity, marking the historic significance of our decision to leave Earth after destroying it. The epic guitar solo marks the beginning of our journey to the stars, to begin a new life on the other side of the universe. 

Cosmic Sons of Toil  

The title of this instrumental section is intriguing. Wilson told Stéphane Rousselot of Amarok Magazine that it’s just a play on words. Perhaps he was thinking of the phrase ‘Horny-handed sons of toil.’ That phrase was first used by Lord Salisbury, three times British Prime Minister in the nineteenth century. The manual labourers described by Salisbury, with their horny (calloused) hands, have now been replaced by cosmic labourers. Perhaps that interpretation is incorrect, but as Wilson told Rousselot, ‘That’s the fun of analysis.’ 

This section is more up-tempo after the stately, anthemic pace of previous sections. The spacey electronic noises, sounding like a cosmic ray gun, are provided by the ARP 2600 analogue synthesiser. In a YouTube Reel, Wilson described it as ‘perfect for a space-themed album… It sounds like Hawkwind in 1973.’ The track begins with a tumbling, repeated piano theme, soon joined by jerky, melodic bass and frenetic guitar. The guitar solo at around 0:45 is the first of two on the album by Randy McStine. The solo is agitated, fragmented and unusual. McStine also plays guitar on the rest of the track. At around 2:00, there’s a funky, jerky, distorted guitar riff, a variation on the fuzzy bass theme we heard earlier, with agitated drumming from Russell Holzman. At around 2:45, the track becomes so frenzied that it falls over itself. The whole section describes an out-of-control spacecraft hurtling through space. It’s reminiscent of the scenes in Christopher Nolan’s 2014 film Interstellar, where the spaceship struggles to fly as it creaks, groans, and shudders, reminding us that interstellar travel is difficult.

No Ghost on the Moor/Heat Death of the Universe 

The first part of this section, ‘No Ghost On The Moor’, is a reprise of the opening section, with the same lyrics and melody, but we are now on the other side of the universe. The alien has taken us as far away from Earth as possible, and in this new context, Wilson is joined by a conventional rock band. The lyrics take on a new meaning, becoming achingly tender and emotional. Wilson’s recurring nostalgia for childhood has been replaced by an existential nostalgia for the Earth we have left far behind. His previous anger about the reckless destruction of the Earth has been replaced by deep empathy for the human condition and the fragility of life

The Heat Death of the Universe. Image created by AI.

The second part of this section is an instrumental. The ‘Heat Death of the Universe’ – also known more prosaically as the Big Chill or the Big Freeze – refers to the scientific hypothesis about the ultimate slow demise of the universe. Eric Betz of Astronomy.com described it as a,   

‘Long and frigid affair… the day when all heat and energy is evenly spread over incomprehensibly vast distances. At this point, the universe’s final temperature will hover just above absolute zero…  the existence of our entire species registers as but a brief ray of sunlight before an infinite winter of darkness.’

The guitar solo at around 2:00 is McStine’s second on the album. Wilson told McStine that he didn’t want a classic rock solo of the kind played by David Gilmour on ‘Comfortably Numb’ from Pink Floyd’s 1979 album The Wall. This is no reflection on the quality of Gilmour’s playing – he told Roie Avin and Geoff Bailie of The Prog Report that the ‘Comfortably Numb’ solo is the ‘greatest guitar solo of all time.’ McStine’s solo sounds like a synthesiser rather than a blues guitar, and the tone breaks up intermittently rather than constantly as it would with conventional distortion. Russell Holzman’s languid drumming creates a feeling of gravitas beneath.  

A Scene from 2001: A Space Odyssey by Stanley Kubrick. Source: Wikimedia Commons/Touring Club Italiano

At around 2:45, there’s a lovely harmonic turn and some filigree decoration reminiscent of the great Guthrie Govan. As the guitar solo fades to nothing, the track descends into noise. Wilson told Rousselot this was a nod to Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey and the use of ‘very atonal music’ to describe both ‘wonder’ and the feeling that the universe is ‘terrifying… an immense void of death and nothingness.’ He told John Robb at the launch of the album in Manchester that there was a ‘nod to Ligeti’. Wilson is referring to the orchestral piece Atmosphères (1961) by the Hungarian composer György Ligeti, used by Kubrick in the film. The piece uses the technique he called micropolyphony, with large numbers of tiny musical themes woven together to create a constantly shifting composition with no discernible rhythm or melody. This music reminds us of, in Wilson’s words to Humphries, ‘the blackness and death of space… So you get an orchestra.’ The track ends with a wall of noise, a technique he uses compellingly on his first solo album, Insurgentes (2008), when noise rock brutally obliterates the end of various tracks. The track ‘Get All You Deserve ends with Ligeti-like noises. Wilson told Prasad that sounds from the most recent record by Bass Communion (his ‘ambient/noise /experimental project’), The Itself of Itself (2024), fed into this section of the track. 

THE OVERVIEW

Steven Wilson – The Overview: Perspective (Official Video) by Miles Skarin

Perspective  

Perspective begins with radio transmissions from deep space. They sound like the opening of another space rock song, ‘Astronomy Domine’ from Pink Floyd’s 1967 album The Piper at the Gates of Dawn. In March 2024, Wilson said in a YouTube interview with Rick Beato that one of his favourite albums, by Pink Floyd – ‘still my favourite band’ – is Ummagumma (1969), which includes a live version of the song (although without the spoken words). When The Piper was released, Pink Floyd were managed by Andrew King and Peter Jenner. The latter read out the names of planets, stars and galaxies through a megaphone.

‘Perspective’ includes spoken word commentary from Wilson’s wife Rotem, just like the two previous albums, The Harmony Codex and The Future Bites. She names various cosmic phenomena and their sizes. Wilson used a website called scaleofuniverse.com to provide scientific facts.

According to the Scale of the Universe website, Ganymede is the largest moon in the Solar System, over twice as big as our moon. It’s 5,268,000 metres in diameter. Callisto is Jupiter’s second largest moon, 4,821,000 metres in diameter.

Size beyond one megametre 
Ten to the power of six 
Ganymede, Callisto

A still from The Overview Film by Miles Skarin

Rotem’s voice is tuned down in pitch. Wilson told The Rockonteurs podcast that he wanted her voice to sound dispassionate, and ‘emotionally flat… to recite these scientific facts.’ He had in mind HAL, the talking computer in the 1968 film 2001: A Space Odyssey, in the spacecraft Discovery One, who memorably says, ‘I’m sorry, Dave, I’m afraid I can’t do that.’

The red camera eye of HAL 9000 from Stanley Kubrick’s movie 2001: A Space Odyssey. Source; Wikimedia Commons

What intrigues Wilson is not just the scientific facts about the space phenomena that Rotem describes, but also the effect such facts have on human consciousness. In the BFI roundtable discussion to launch the album, he said that the sense of perspective shows who and what we are in relation to the vastness of the universe. He referred to Douglas Adams’ Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy series and the Total Perspective Vortex. This machine allows the user to take in the whole universe, by extrapolating ‘the whole of creation… from one small piece of fairy cake.’ Built to annoy his wife, when the inventor turned the machine on, she saw ‘in one instant the whole infinity of creation and herself in relation to it… to [the inventor’s horror] the shock completely annihilated her brain.’ Despite this, the inventor had proved to his satisfaction that ‘the one thing [we] cannot afford to have is a sense of proportion.’ The machine was later used as a punishment; the first person to survive it was the Betelgeusian, Zaphod Beeblebrox, who promptly ate the fairy cake.

A Still from The Overview Film by Miles Skarin

The opening music is the most electronic on the album, following on from the more electronic sound of parts of The Future Bites and The Harmony Codex. Wilson told John Earls of NME that it’s something that the English electronic duo Autechre might have produced. Wilson isn’t the first musician to use electronic music on a prog rock album. Pink Floyd opened The Dark Side of the Moon with ‘On the Run’, which used the VCS3 analogue synthesiser to create the electronic sequence. Roger Waters can be seen manipulating the synth sounds, cigarette in hand, on Pink Floyd’s Live at Pompeii (1972; re-released in 2025 as Pink Floyd at Pompeii – MCMLXXII with new mixes by Wilson).

EMS Putney VCS 3 Synthesiser, of the Type Used by Pink Floyd on The Dark Side of the Moon. Source: Wikimedia Commons

 

The fiercely rhythmic, jerky synth tracks and electronic drums – all played and programmed by Wilson – contrast with Rotem’s deadpan delivery of scientific facts. At the same time, they create a futuristic soundscape that suggests that science is more dominant on the second side of the album. Wilson told Dave Everley of Prog that Objects Outlive Us is more of a ‘human’ story, whereas in Everley’s phrase, the title track ‘evokes the sparseness and coldness of space.’ At around 2:00, slower, more human-sounding chords begin to take over. We hear Wilson’s voice at around 2:30, albeit partly stripped of its humanity in a wordless vocalise, transposed up an octave, so that it sounds more like a synthesiser than a human voice.

A Beautiful Infinity I/ Borrowed Atoms/A Beautiful Infinity II  

The protagonist is now on the other side of the universe, reflecting on his life back on Earth. He considers the time it takes light to travel long distances across space to reach the Earth; we see stars as they were hundreds or thousands of years ago. There’s a strong parallel with Christopher Nolan’s 2014 film Interstellar. The line ‘Each moment for me is a lifetime for you’ could apply to the film’s plot. It stars Matthew McConaughey as Joseph Cooper, a widowed former NASA test pilot who leaves a devastated Earth on a mission to find other habitable planets, leaving his young daughter Murph behind. Cooper and his crew travel remarkably close to a black hole called Gargantua. The scientific adviser to the film, Kip Thorne, wrote in his 2014 book The Science of Interstellar that time reaches a complete halt at the surface of a black hole.


A Still from The Overview Film by Miles Skarin

When Cooper travels near Gargantua, he ages only a few hours while Murph, on Earth, ages eight decades. There’s a profoundly moving moment when he receives a transmission from his daughter, and he realises that he has missed 23 years of his daughter’s life. They are now the same age. When he left Earth, she was a child. Wilson encapsulates the emotion of this moment in the simple but deeply poetic line, ‘Back on Earth, my loving wife’s been dead for years.’ Although the title track concentrates on science, there is room for humanity, too. The protagonist’s distance from Earth puts everything in perspective: ‘what seemed important [is] now like dust inside the squall.’ There’s perhaps an echo of the dust storms in Interstellar, which make Earth uninhabitable.

‘A Beautiful Infinity I’ is the first time we hear Craig Blundell on drums. He plays in a more robust, rockier style than Russell Holzman on Objects Outlive Us; both drummers are superb. Wilson’s vocals are treated with a delay effect; the final part of each phrase is repeated, ‘from here… from here… from here.’ Pink Floyd used this effect on ‘Us and Them’ from The Dark Side of the Moon to add emotional depth. Wilson used the same effect on ‘Arriving Somewhere But Not Here’ on Deadwing (2005).   

The slide guitar adds to the Floydian feeling of the track, but the guitar solo isn’t Gilmour-esque. Wilson asked Niko Tsonev to play the solo – his only solo on the album – in a style that combined the classic with the contemporary. The acoustic guitar, played by Wilson, is an Ovation in Nashville tuning. He used the same guitar and tuning on ‘Chimera’s Wreck’ from the 2022 Porcupine Tree album Closure/Continuation. He told Amit Sharma of Total Guitar that he used his Ovation guitar in Nashville tuning – the lowest four strings are tuned up an octave, creating ‘a very crystalline, musical box kind of tone.’

‘I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud’

The ‘Borrowed Atoms’ section begins at around 2:40 with a piano break. The delicate musical backdrop of piano and synthesiser accompanies one of the most poetic moments on the album, with the words ‘The clouds have no history’, and ends ten lines later with the words ‘Is this a dream?’ Wilson’s lyrics express profound complexity in simple language. He reverses the ‘pathetic fallacy’, a poetic device where human emotions or characteristics are attributed to nature. (A good example is I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud by William Wordsworth, which describes the daffodils as human dancers, ‘tossing their heads in sprightly dance.’) Wilson does the opposite, stressing that nature has no human emotion: ‘The clouds have no history/And the sea feels no sorrow.’ This is another aspect of the album’s perspective theme. Nature ignores us, so we shouldn’t take ourselves so seriously. Wilson says our atoms are just ‘borrowed’; when we die, they return to the universe. This is ambiguous – if our atoms are only ‘borrowed’, we are insignificant, but we should also take good care of our atoms, as we only have temporary stewardship. Wilson’s meditation on the nature of selfhood ends with a moving expression of existential angst, warmly sung, ‘Is this a dream?’

 ‘A Beautiful Infinity II’ begins at around 4:00 with the words ‘There’s no reason for any of this.’ Wilson’s personal view – with which some would disagree – is that the universe was created out of chaos, not by design or by a supreme being,  

‘There’s no reason for any of this 
Just a beautiful infinity 
No design and no one at the wheel 
Just an existential mystery.’ 

The idea of no one being at the wheel is reminiscent of ‘The Creator has a Master Tape’ from the Porcupine Tree album In Absentia (2002). We discover that ‘the creator had a master tape’, which suggests design, only to find that – ironically – ‘he left it in a cab.’ 

After the massed backing vocals of Wilson and Randy McStine, there are some whimsical, almost scatting vocals from Wilson at around 4:05, in the same style as on ‘Harridan’, the opening track of Closure/Continuation. At around 5:00, McStine closes the track with a richly analogue Moog solo.

Infinity Measured In Moments  

This section is the climax of side two. Rotem Wilson returns, reciting another list of space statistics to create a further sense of awe about the vastness of the universe. Blundell’s drumming here is impressive. He adds subtle shifts to the rhythmic patterns, building the track’s epic feel and bringing a human element to the electronic parts. The track is built around arpeggiating analogue synth patterns, just as Wilson built up the title track on The Harmony Codex. Wilson’s vocals are warm and rich, multitracked in unison rather than complex harmonies, as often in his Porcupine Tree songs. McStine provides backing vocals and a guitar solo at 2:15, combining an angular, modern feel with a classic, uplifting rock solo.

The Inner Sleeve of In Absentia by Lasse Hoile

It’s followed by handclaps (Wilson) and ukulele (McStine). Porcupine Tree fans may recall a similar effect on ‘Trains’ (In Absentia, 2002), a fan favourite with over 39 million plays on Spotify at the time of writing. There is some very Peter Hook-style bass in this section. Wilson is a massive fan of Hook’s former band Joy Division, listing the band’s debut single Transmission (1979), in his book Limited Edition of One as one of his top 100 tracks. At around 3:20, the track reaches a climax with Adam Holzman’s Moog solo, the first real opportunity Holzman has on the album to show the warmth and virtuosity of his jazz-tinged playing, which was a highlight of The Overview Tour that came to London in May 2025.

Permanence  

The final section of the album is a contemplative instrumental, beautiful, ambient and ethereal. We are now floating in space, billions of light-years away from Earth. The encounter with the alien on the moor at the beginning of the album now seems an infinite time ago.     

Theo Travis. Photo by Mariia Korneeva

Theo Travis plays the soprano sax solo. Travis worked on some of Wilson’s solo albums, and the two worked together on Travis’ 2024 solo album Aeolus. That album is a one-hour Theo Travis piece for duduk; the instrument Travis played on ‘Beautiful Scarecrow’ on The Harmony Codex. Wilson produced the recordings and created soundscapes from Travis’s alto flute playing. The album is gentle, meditative, introspective and quietly mesmerising. Travis’s playing has the same effect on ‘Permanence.’  

The section begins with the evocative sound of the electric piano, processed through a reverse echo. Two new instruments are added. The first is the celeste or celesta, a keyboard instrument that looks like a small upright piano. Like a piano, a hammer is operated by pressing a key, but instead of striking strings, the hammer hits a metal plate like that of a glockenspiel. Appropriately, in the context of this track, the name means ‘celestial’ or ‘heavenly.’ The second instrument is the Moog synthesiser on which Wilson created a sound like the theremin.

In the film by Miles Skarin, we move gradually closer to a green shoot of life. An out-of-focus creature gradually comes into focus. Our old friend, the alien from Objects Outlive Us, intently investigates the green shoot. We hadn’t forgotten that the alien exists. There is hope after all.  

This post was updated at 17.27 on 29 December 2025 to correct the explanation of the terms megametre and gigametre, which had incorrectly referred to kilometres (km) rather than metres (m)

This post was further updated at 14.00 on 30 December 2025 to add details of the relative sizes of Ganymede and Callisto

Links

Sources

Adams, Douglas, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (Omnibus Edition, Boekerij 2018)
Avin, Roie and Bailie, Geoff, Steven Wilson on The Overview, the upcoming tour, the future of AI, and more. (Interview) (The Prog Report Podcast, 7/3/2025)
Beato, Rick, Steven Wilson Discusses His Favorite [Sic] Albums (Rick Beato 2, YouTube 24/03/34)
Bernhardt, Todd, Andy discusses ‘The Everyday Story of Smalltown’ (XTC’s Blog, 17 February 2008)
Betz, Eric, The Big Freeze: How the universe will die (Astronomy.com)
Earls, John, Steven Wilson: “I’ve tried to reinvent the classic rock guitar solo” (NME 18/02/25)
Everley, Dave, Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space (Prog, April 2025)
Fischer, Tobias, Interview with Steven Wilson/ Porcupine Tree (Tonefloat Magazine, undated)
Humphries, Stephen, Steven Wilson on “The Overview” Space, the final musical frontier (Under the Radar, 21/2/2025)
Kemp, Gary and Pratt, Guy, Gary Kemp album special with Steven Wilson (The Rockonteurs, YouTube 26/01/25)
Prasad, Anil, Steven Wilson Cosmic Perspectives (Innerviews, 25/02/25)
Robb, John, Steven Wilson: ‘The Overview’ Audio-Visual Experience + Q&A (Cultplex Manchester, 26/02/25)
Rousselot, Stéphane, Interview – Steven Wilson (Amarok Magazine, 4/3/2025)
Sharma, Amit, Steven Wilson on Porcupine Tree’s triumphant return and his love of “guitar players that can play one note and break your heart” (Total Guitar, August 2022)
Shatner, William and Brandon, Joshua, Boldly Go: Reflections on a Life of Awe and Wonder (Atria Books 2022)
Sinclair, Paul, Steven Wilson: The SDE interview: SW on his new album, The Overview (Super Deluxe Edition, 17/03/25)
‘Struck’, Steven Wilson (February 11st [sic] 2025 (MUSICWAVES, 11/2/2025)
White, Frank, The Overview Effect: Space Exploration and Human Evolution (First Edition Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 1987)
Wilson, Steven, Limited Edition of One (Constable, April 2022)

Images from The Overview film by Miles Skarin of Crystal Spotlight

Steven Wilson – The Overview – Album Review Part Two: ‘Objects Outlive us’

The Cover of The Overview by Steven Wilson, designed by Hajo Müller

This is an analysis of the first half of Steven Wilson’s eighth solo album, The Overview. For an introduction to the album, click here. Analysis of the second half of the album to follow.

OBJECTS OUTLIVE US  

No Monkey’s Paw  

The opening describes an eerie meeting on a misty moor. Wilson refers to two ghost stories that may have occurred on the moor (recalling the ghost stories on which his 2013 album The Raven that Refused to Sing is based) but says that neither happened here.   

First, there is ‘no ghost on the moor’/no open window’. This appears to reference Kate Bush’s 1978 song Wuthering Heights, set ‘Out on the wily, windy moors’, when the ghost of Catherine Earnshaw haunts Heathcliff at his window. Bush, of whose music Wilson is a huge fan, memorably sings,  

‘Heathcliff, it’s me, I’m Cathy 
I’ve come home, I’m so cold
Let me in your window.’ 
 

Second, there is ‘no monkey’s paw’. The Monkey’s Paw is a ghost story by the English author W.W. Jacobs, first published in 1902. It describes a magical monkey’s paw, which provides three wishes that lead to unforeseen and terrible consequences. According to the story, the holy man who put the spell on the paw, ‘wanted to show that fate ruled people’s lives, and that those who interfered with it did so to their sorrow.’  

The Alien on the Moor. Image courtesy of Miles Skarin/Crystal Spotlight

Instead, Wilson’s protagonist looks beyond Earthbound ghost stories and into space, encountering an alien on the moor. The alien pointedly says, ‘Did you forget I exist?’ The protagonist blames the alien for playing ‘too hard to get.’ In the BFI roundtable discussion to launch the album, Wilson said the reference to the alien is ‘a bit tongue in cheek’, but that there was a ‘serious point’, which is that we spend too much time looking down at our digital devices, and not enough time looking up ‘with a sense of awe’ at the sky and the stars, as he did when he was a child. We have lost our sense of curiosity and wonder and are obsessed with chasing likes and followers on social media, a central theme of Wilson’s 2020 album The Future Bites. The theme that technology has changed the course of human evolution, and not necessarily for the better, goes back to Fear of a Blank Planet, the 2007 album Wilson wrote for Porcupine Tree.  

The track opens with Wilson singing in a gorgeous falsetto, showing how strong his upper register has become since he started developing this part of his vocal range on The Future Bites. His voice is bathed in echo, evoking the ethereal rather than the Earthbound. His voice is gentle and intimate, beautifully contemplative, enriched by the sound design and spacey effects created by Randy McStine, who also plays guitar and sings backing vocals on the album. Wilson plays the soft-edged bass line on an acoustic bass. The alien’s voice is Wilson’s own, transposed to a lower register using the same effect as on ‘King Ghost’ from The Future Bites

The Buddha Of The Modern Age 

The Buddha of the title refers to Siddhartha Gautama, better known as the Buddha, the founder of Buddhism. According to Buddhist teaching, the Buddha will be succeeded by Maitreya, sometimes referred to as ‘The Buddha of the modern age.’ Wilson’s lyrics refer to a contemporary Buddha, who is ‘barely paid minimum wage’ for doling out ‘truth and healthy karma.’ Wilson says his teaching is ignored. In a poetic line, he refers to humanity ignoring the truths revealed by the wise men of the past, who are now mere shadows to us, ‘the blurred photos of the ghosts of men’.  

The lyrics in this section are the most personal on the album. Wilson’s lyrics about his views are rarely so open and direct. He told Anil Prasad of Innerviews, ‘I’ve always been slightly wary of being too preachy or holier than thou,’ but he feels so strongly about the effect of meat eating not just on animals but on the planet that he’s ‘becoming a little more forthright about my veganism.’ Here’s an example of the anger he feels,  

‘Slaughter our sacred cow
To stuff our stupid mouths 
Already fit to burst  
Still the insatiable thirst 
To kill over and over’  

Wilson is highly critical of what he sees as the failure of our stewardship of the planet, which we regard as ours to treat however we want. The phrase ‘insatiable thirst’ refers to our appetite for food, our obsessive consumerism, and our destruction of the planet, ‘We interlopers, the inferior species/Wallow in our own faeces.’  

The Destruction of our Planet. Image courtesy of Miles Skarin/Crystal Spotlight

The track begins with a resolute piano motif which matches the stridency of Wilson’s opinions, soon joined by drummer Russell Holzman on icy cymbals – the first time we hear him on the album. Randy McStine and Willow Beggs soon join him on rich, layered backing vocals. Willow is a singer-songwriter and the daughter of bass player Nick Beggs. The backing vocals are reminiscent of those on Porcupine Tree songs like ‘Heartattack in a Layby’ from In Absentia (2002), which ends with 38 tracks of multi-tracked voices. The song builds to a climax, with thundering drums, then drops away on the word ‘try’, creating a moment of compassion for humanity as a gentler piano melody ends the track. 

Objects: Meanwhile

The lyrics for this section were written by Andy Partridge of the English rock band XTC, who also wrote the lyrics for the title track of Wilson’s 2017 album To The Bone (2017) and for his 2018 single How Big the Space. Wilson’s admiration for Partridge dates back to XTC’s formation of the fictitious band The Dukes of Stratosphear, which inspired Wilson to form his own fictional band, Porcupine Tree, which eventually became a real band.   

Wilson has said that Partridge and Ray Davies of the Kinks are the best at describing everyday lives in their lyrics. While writing The Overview, he was remixing XTC’s 1984 album The Big Express in surround sound. The Big Express is a concept album about life in Swindon, a town in Wiltshire in the southwest of England. The song that interested Wilson particularly was ‘The Everyday Story of Smalltown’. Partridge told Todd Bernhardt of XTC’s Blogs that ‘there’s a little vein of [Welsh poet] Dylan Thomas in there.’ Wilson told Stephen Humphries of Under the Radar that the song has ‘some of the most divine Little England observational lyric writing.’

He told Dave Everley of Prog that he rang Partridge with a challenge, ‘I want smalltown soap operas juxtaposed with cosmic phenomena.’ He wanted to put our ordinary lives in perspective – a central theme of the album – by providing links or contrasts with what was happening ‘meanwhile, on the other side of the universe.’ The two men entered a productive dialogue. Wilson was fascinated by Partridge’s comment that the lyrics make a significant difference in how you produce a track, particularly the vocals.   

A Teenager with his First Telescope. Image courtesy of Miles Skarin/Crystal Spotlight

Partridge fulfilled the brief perfectly. Events on Earth are sometimes linked with cosmic events,

‘As you queue at the bank for an hour
’Cause a solar flare blew out the power.’

Sometimes people on Earth are oblivious to the effect of cosmic events,

‘The driver in tears ‘bout his payment arrears 
Still nobody hears when a sun disappears
In a galaxy afar.’  

Sometimes the link is metaphorical, 

‘Her shopping bag broke, sending eggs and flour crashing
Down to the ground like star clusters smashing.’  

One of the verses refers to a ‘teenager with his first telescope’, which reflects Wilson’s nostalgia for his own teenage years, looking up at the sky, fascinated with space, before smartphones were invented. Robert Smith of The Cure shares that nostalgia. The track ‘Endsong’ from Songs of a Lost World (2024) was inspired by his memories of looking up at the sky with his father around the time of the Apollo 11 Moon landing in 1969. In another verse, a young man cleaning cars wonders, ‘Is there life on Mars?’, the title of David Bowie’s 1973 single.  

Some of the politics from To the Bone creeps in. That album addressed what some have described as a ‘post-truth’ world. Patridge’s lyric describes humans bickering about ‘fences’ – petty disputes between neighbours, and about ‘borders’ – between countries, often leading to war. The lyric wryly states that it’s best not to think about those disputes, an understandable reaction to the conflicts that have blighted the early years of the 2020s. There is deep sarcasm in the line, ‘It’s better to live without facts.’   

The track begins with a clear statement of an important musical theme. It’s a 19-note piano motif that restlessly snakes back on itself, returning every three beats to the same note (F#). It sounds straightforward when broken down into three-note segments, but the complete theme helps restore Wilson’s prog credentials due its length. Wilson told Prasad that the basic melody is like a Shepard Tone, ‘in that it constantly ascends in whole tones.’ A Shepard Tone is an auditory illusion in which a repeated musical pattern appears to be constantly rising even though it remains in the same octave. Examples of its use are at the end of Pink Floyd’s ‘Echoes’ from Meddle (1971) and Hans Zimmer’s score for Christopher Nolan’s 2017 film Dunkirk.  

‘A bit of a masterpiece.’ Variations by Andrew LLoyd Webber

Wilson said the 19-note motif returns in different musical forms throughout Objects Outlive Us, like the use of the leitmotif (leading motif) in Richard Wagner’s operas or the musical formula in the works of Karlheinz Stockhausen, such as his massive opera cycle Licht (Light) (1977 – 2003). Wilson also referred to repeated themes in Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells (1973) and Pink Floyd’s ‘Echoes’. He told Humphries that Andrew Lloyd Webber’s 1978 album Variations, which repeatedly used a theme by the composer Niccolò Paganini, was ‘overlooked… [but] I think it’s a bit of a masterpiece, actually.’ The second track on the album was used as the theme tune for the television arts series The South Bank Show, which ran on ITV from 1978 to 2010, before moving to Sky Arts. 

After three statements of the 19-note theme, the central song of Objects Outlive Us begins, with an earworm of a melody. It’s decorated with Floydian sliding guitars and a plucked string theme played by Wilson. McStine provides gorgeous backing vocals that evoke the sound of Electric Light Orchestra (ELO). 

At around 3:30, there’s a blistering bass solo in the unusual time signature of 12/8. Each beat in the bar is divided into three semi-quaver (sixteenth note) triplets instead of the more usual two quavers (eighth notes). Perhaps surprisingly, Wilson plays it on an acoustic bass guitar. It’s heavily distorted and put through an amp with lots of overdrive. As Wilson repeats the bass riff, the track takes flight in the proggiest section of the album so far, as McStine adds an extra guitar line above the bass in the style of the new wave of British heavy metal (NWOBHM) bands of the late 70s and early 80s, such as Iron Maiden and Saxon. At around 4:45, the track stalls as a metaphorical handbrake is applied, then the track rouses itself with a drum flourish into a spacey instrumental before the vocals return. At 6:00, the 19-note theme returns, now in a driving, much heavier version for full band, followed by a gentle piano version that takes us back to the beginning of this section.  

In the sleeve notes, Wilson describes Theo Travis’ saxophones in the track as ‘Jaxonsaxes’, named after David Jackson, who played saxophone with Van der Graaf Generator, often playing two at once. His nickname is ‘Jaxon’. He worked on many of their albums, including a long run of classic albums in the 1970s.  

The Cicerones/Ark

The archaic word ‘cicerones’ is from the word ‘cicerone’, meaning a tour guide, derived from the name of the great Roman orator, Cicero (106 BC – 43 BC). The track’s title comes from a short story, The Cicerones, by the English writer Robert Aickman (1914 – 1981). The protagonist, John Trant, visits the Cathedral of Saint Bavon (presumably Saint Bavo) in Belgium. He begins a self-guided tour using a guidebook but soon meets various strange figures who act as his guides to the increasingly macabre sights of the cathedral. There’s a creeping sense of unease and the surreal. The atmosphere builds in the same way as in Thomas M. Disch’s short story Descending, which inspired Wilson’s previous album and short story The Harmony Codex. The Cicerones was filmed for Film Four in 2002, in a short starring Mark Gatiss (The League of Gentlemen, Sherlock, Bookish). In the context of the track, the title refers to the guides who lead the remnants of humanity into space, following the planet’s destruction so graphically described earlier in ‘The Buddha Of The Modern Age.’ 

Leaving the Planet. Image courtesy of Miles Skarin/Crystal Spotlight

The Ark represents a new start, like Noah’s escape from the Flood in his ark with two of each animal. Compared with the relaxed rhyming couplets of Partridge’s lyrics in the previous section, the lyrics of this section are breathless, broken up into short sections. It’s a technique that goes back to ‘Open Car’ from Porcupine Tree’s Deadwing (2005). After the withering invective of ‘The Buddha Of The Modern Age’, only a few who warned about Earth’s destruction survived. It’s easy to miss the story – and the message – here amongst the turbulence of the lyrics. Humanity is leaving the Earth, which is now destroyed and reduced to dust. Ironically, when Prasad asked Wilson if he would rather live on Mars, he replied, ‘Mars is a planet of red dust. Earth is incredibly diverse, geographically, ecologically, and climate-wise.’

Wilson plays all the guitar parts at the beginning of this section. It starts with a gently contemplative acoustic guitar part, gorgeously recorded, that wouldn’t have been out of place on one of his early solo albums. After a rich keyboard wash, at about a minute in, the 19-note theme returns in a version for band and piano, and the section builds to a climax with repeated melody, with a similar feel to ‘Eclipse’, the epic finale to Pink Floyd’s The Dark Side of the Moon (1973). It’s also the emotional climax of the album’s first half, sung with gathering, hymn-like intensity, marking the historic significance of our decision to leave Earth after destroying it. The epic guitar solo marks the beginning of our journey to the stars, to begin a new life on the other side of the universe. 

Cosmic Sons of Toil  

The title of this instrumental section is intriguing. Wilson told Stéphane Rousselot of Amarok Magazine that it’s just a play on words. Perhaps he was thinking of the phrase ‘Horny-handed sons of toil.’ That phrase was first used by Lord Salisbury, three times British Prime Minister in the nineteenth century. The manual labourers described by Salisbury, with their horny (calloused) hands, have now been replaced by cosmic labourers. Perhaps that interpretation is incorrect, but as Wilson told Rousselot, ‘That’s the fun of analysis.’ 

This section is more up-tempo after the stately, anthemic pace of previous sections. The spacey electronic noises, sounding like a cosmic ray gun, are provided by the ARP 2600 analogue synthesiser. In a YouTube Reel, Wilson described it as ‘perfect for a space-themed album… It sounds like Hawkwind in 1973.’ The track begins with a tumbling, repeated piano theme, soon joined by jerky, melodic bass and frenetic guitar. The guitar solo at around 0:45 is the first of two on the album by Randy McStine. The solo is agitated and fragmented and unusual. McStine also plays guitar on the rest of the track. At around 2:00, there’s a funky, jerky, distorted guitar riff, a variation on the fuzzy bass theme we heard earlier, with agitated drumming from Russell Holzman. At around 2:45, the track becomes so frenzied that it falls over itself. The whole section describes an out-of-control spacecraft hurtling through space. It’s reminiscent of the scenes in Christopher Nolan’s 2014 film Interstellar when the spaceship flies with difficulty as it creaks, groans and shudders, reminding us that interstellar travel is difficult.

No Ghost on the Moor/Heat Death of the Universe 

The first part of this section, ‘No Ghost On The Moor’, is a reprise of the opening section, with the same lyrics and melody. The difference is that we are now on the other side of the universe. The alien has taken us as far away from Earth as possible, and in this new context, Wilson is joined by a conventional rock band. The lyrics take on a new meaning, becoming achingly tender and emotional. Wilson’s recurring nostalgia for childhood has been replaced by an existential nostalgia for the Earth we have left far behind. His previous anger about the reckless destruction of the Earth has been replaced by deep empathy for the human condition and the fragility of life

The Heat Death of the Universe. Image created by AI.

The second part of this section is an instrumental, The ‘Heat Death of the Universe’ – also known more prosaically as the Big Chill or the Big Freeze – refers to the scientific hypothesis about the ultimate slow demise of the universe. Eric Betz of Astronomy.com described it as a,   

‘Long and frigid affair… the day when all heat and energy is evenly spread over incomprehensibly vast distances. At this point, the universe’s final temperature will hover just above absolute zero…  the existence of our entire species registers as but a brief ray of sunlight before an infinite winter of darkness.’

The guitar solo at around 2:00 is McStine’s second on the album. Wilson told McStine that he didn’t want a classic rock solo of the kind played by David Gilmour on ‘Comfortably Numb’ from Pink Floyd’s 1979 album The Wall. This is no reflection on the quality of Gilmour’s playing – he told Roie Avin and Geoff Bailie of The Prog Report that the ‘Comfortably Numb’ solo is the ‘greatest guitar solo of all time.’ McStine’s solo sounds like a synthesiser rather than a blues guitar, and the tone breaks up intermittently rather than constantly as it would with conventional distortion. Russell Holzman’s languid drumming creates a feeling of gravitas beneath.  

A Scene from 2001: A Space Odyssey by Stanley Kubrick. Source: Wikimedia Commons/Touring Club Italiano

At around 2:45, there’s a lovely harmonic turn and some filigree decoration reminiscent of the great Guthrie Govan. As the guitar solo fades to nothing, the track descends into noise. Wilson told Rousselot this was a nod to Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey and the use of ‘very atonal music’ to describe both ‘wonder’ and the feeling that the universe is ‘terrifying… an immense void of death and nothingness.’ He told John Robb at the launch of the album in Manchester that there was a ‘nod to Ligeti’. Wilson is referring to the orchestral piece Atmosphères (1961) by the Hungarian composer György Ligeti, used by Kubrick in the film. The piece uses the technique he called micropolyphony, with large numbers of tiny musical themes woven together to create a constantly shifting composition with no discernible rhythm or melody. This music reminds us of, in Wilson’s words to Humphries, ‘the blackness and death of space… So you get an orchestra.’ The track ends with a wall of noise, a technique he uses compellingly on his first solo album, Insurgentes (2008), when noise rock brutally obliterates the end of various tracks. The track ‘Get All You Deserve ends with Ligeti-like noises. Wilson told Prasad that sounds from the most recent record by Bass Communion (his ‘ambient/noise /experimental project’), The Itself of Itself (2024), fed into this section of the track. 

Links

Sources

Images from The Overview film by Miles Skarin of Crystal Spotlight
Prasad, Anil, Steven Wilson Cosmic Perspectives (Innerviews, 25/02/25) 
Bernhardt, Todd, Andy discusses ‘The Everyday Story of Smalltown’ (XTC’s Blog, 17 February 2008) 
Everley, Dave, Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space (Prog, April 2025) 
Rousselot, Stéphane, Interview – Steven Wilson (Amarok Magazine, 4/3/2025)
Betz, Eric The Big Freeze: How the universe will die (Astronomy.com)  
Avin, Roie and Bailie, Geoff Steven Wilson on The Overview, the upcoming tour, the future of AI, and more. (Interview) (The Prog Report Podcast, 7/3/2025) 
Robb, John, Steven Wilson: ‘The Overview’ Audio-Visual Experience + Q&A (Cultplex Manchester, 26/02/25) 

Steven Wilson – The Overview – Album Review – Part One – Introduction

Steven Wilson. Image credit: Kevin Westerberg
Steven Wilson. Image credit: Kevin Westerberg
Steven Wilson. Image credit: Kevin Westerberg

His Eighth Solo Album

The Overview is Steven Wilson’s eighth solo album, released on 14 March 2025. It charted at number three in the UK, the fourth of Wilson’s albums (as a solo artist or with his band Porcupine Tree) in a row to reach the UK top five. On his website, Wilson described the album as ‘a Kubrickian journey into the darkness of outer space.’ 

The Overview Effect

The album takes its title from the Overview Effect, a term coined by author and space philosopher Frank White in his book The Overview Effect: Space Exploration and Human Evolution to describe the cognitive shift experienced by astronauts looking back on the Earth from space. 


[The Overview Effect] is the experience of seeing first hand the reality that the Earth is in space, a tiny, fragile ball of life, “hanging in the void,” shielded and nourished by a paper-thin atmosphere. The experience often transforms astronauts’ perspective on the planet and humanity’s place in the universe. Some common aspects of it are a feeling of awe, a profound understanding of the interconnection of all life, and a renewed sense of responsibility for taking care of the environment.

Frank White

The Overview Effect: Space Exploration and Human Evolution (First Edition Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 1987)


White, who interviewed astronauts about their experiences, wrote that during the initial stages of the Space Program, it was thought that, ‘All the astronauts have religious or spiritual experiences and that they all had their lives fundamentally changed… The reality is far more complex than that.’ He quotes the astronaut Don Lind, who said that having spoken to many other astronauts, he concluded that space travel would intensify previously held religious convictions but wouldn’t make someone religious.     

The Blue Marble. The Earth Seen from Apollo 17. Source: Wikimedia Commons

One of the most strikingly negative reactions to travelling into space, mentioned by Wilson in several interviews, was – ironically – from Captain Kirk, the actor William Shatner. In his 2022 book, Boldly Go: Reflections on a Life of Awe and Wonder, he wrote that when he was in space, he experienced profound sadness and grief. Eventually, this became a profound feeling of hope, inspiring him to say that we should ‘rededicate ourselves to our planet, to each other, to life and love all around us.’ 


There was no mystery, no majestic awe to behold . . . all I saw was death. I saw a cold, dark, black emptiness. It was unlike any blackness you can see or feel on Earth. It was deep, enveloping, all-encompassing… Everything I had expected to see was wrong… The contrast between the vicious coldness of space and the warm nurturing of Earth below filled me with overwhelming sadness.

Boldly Go: Reflections on a Life of Awe and Wonder (Atria Books, 2022)

William Shatner as Captain Kirk. Souce: NBC Television, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons


Wilson coined his own phrase for the Overview Effect, ‘cosmic vertigo’, meaning a sense of the fragility of the Earth, and the insignificance of our lives in relation to the vastness of the cosmos. The existential struggle to make something of our lives, to make them signify something, is a recurring theme in Wilson’s lyrics, going back to Signify (Porcupine Tree, 1996). He told Dave Everley of Prog that ‘Religion is a classic manifestation of cosmic vertigo.’ As an atheist, he said that to give life meaning, humankind had invented religion.

‘The Earth doesn’t matter, our life doesn’t matter, and it’s a beautiful thing to accept this idea and enjoy the ride.’    

Steven Wilson

Wilson’s solution to the apparent futility and insignificance of our lives, and of the Earth in relation to the vastness of the universe, is not to embrace religion, or misery. He told Musicwaves magazine that, ‘The Earth doesn’t matter, our life doesn’t matter, and it’s a beautiful thing to accept this idea and enjoy the ride.’    

Artist’s Impression of The Extremely Large Telescope. Source: Wikimedia Commons/eso.org

White wrote, ‘ The impact of the [Overview] Effect is not limited to space travellers alone.’ Wilson described the effect of profound awe and a feeling of insignificance when he visited the ELT (Extremely Large Telescope) in the Atacama Desert in Chile in early 2025. When completed, the ELT will be able to see further into space and further back in time than any previous telescope. At the album launch at IMAX in London in February 2025, a photo of Wilson standing next to the telescope was exhibited on the vast screen, and Wilson was a tiny orange dot wearing a hi-vis jacket. Thinking about the Overview Effect led him to consider our insignificance and how that creates a sense of perspective. During the roundtable discussion at the IMAX album launch, he said he could have called the album ‘Perspective … but it’s not as good a title as The Overview.’ 

The Gap Between Releases

The gap between the release of Wilson’s previous album, The Harmony Codex, in September 2023 and the release of The Overview was just under 18 months, a relatively short period considering the gap between his previous solo albums was around two to three years. He told Paul Sinclair of Super Deluxe Edition that there was a pragmatic reason for this. The Harmony Codex was his first album after COVID, and he felt that the previous album, The Future Bites, had been ‘very divisive amongst my fans.’  He didn’t book a tour supporting The Harmony Codex because he wasn’t sure how people would react to the album. By the time he realised that the album had gone down well, it was too late to book a tour for 2024. He decided that in the meantime, he might as well make another record.  

The Concept

While he was looking for a concept, Wilson met up with Alex Milas, Editor-in-Chief of Metal Hammer and founder of Space Rocks. This organisation describes itself as ‘a celebration of space exploration and the art, music, and culture it inspires.’ Wilson’s original idea was to collaborate with Milas on an exhibition or an installation for which he created the music. Then Milas mentioned the Overview Effect.  

The idea immediately appealed to Wilson. As a teenager, he had a fascination with space. He used to go out on summer evenings to gaze up at the stars. He enjoyed space films such as 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), Solaris (1972), and Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977). He wrote tracks about space on some of his previous albums, particularly for Porcupine Tree. At the IMAX album launch, he said that in a ‘split second moment’ during his conversation with Milas, he had the title and the concept and heard the music in my head.’ He saw it as a ‘piece of cinema for the ears.’ 

He told Stephen Humphries of Under The Radar that he had written several albums about ‘planet Earth and human beings and the way we engage with each other.’ It was time to ‘write an album about something bigger than us.’ 

Humphries asked him why he was ‘asking these bigger questions’ now. Wilson admitted that perhaps he was having ‘my own existential crisis… of wanting more perspective on my own life’. Even so, he found it ‘fascinating’ to consider the vast numbers and distances in the universe. He told John Earls of NME that having a concept for the album before he started writing it led him to produce something that ‘intuitively felt like something long-form, analogous to a novel or a film.’ 

‘This record is definitely more informed by the genre hitherto referred to as progressive rock.’

Steven Wilson

Wilson said to Everley, ‘This record is definitely more informed by the genre hitherto referred to as progressive rock.’ Wilson has an uneasy relationship with the genre. His previous three albums certainly strayed from prog rock. To the Bone was an art-rock record with only one long track, ‘Detonation’; it also contained a happy pop song,  ‘Permanating.’ The Future Bites was resolutely electronic. Its longest track, ‘Personal Shopper’ was more like dystopian disco than prog. That album brought some of the best reviews of his career, ‘from the more indie, hipster people that hadn’t really paid attention to me before’, but it also lost some of his core prog audience. To an extent, he has always enjoyed challenging his prog audience, but he also respects that audience. Although the album does mark a return to prog rock, it’s far from the loving, nostalgic homage to prog of his 2013 solo album The Raven that Refused to Sing.

The Album’s Structure

The album is divided into two long tracks of about 20 minutes each, ‘Objects Outlive Us’ and ‘The Overview.’ Wilson told The Prog Report that an album with only two long tracks was ‘a wilfully uncommercial gesture’ and that ‘the reason there are two pieces is I’m old and I still think in terms of vinyl.’  

Wilson referenced other records with the same structure, such as Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells (1973), Miles Davis’ In a Silent Way (1969) and Tangerine Dream’s Rubycon (1975). He told Tobias Fischer of Tonefloat Magazine that he has always liked ‘great double albums with just one track per side.’ He referred to Tales from Topographic Oceans (1973 UK, 1974 US) by Yes, which he remixed in 2016, as a ‘much maligned record, but I love it.’

Writing the Album

Wilson told Anil Prasad of Innerviews that ‘the idea and title came before I had written a single note of music… It’s nice when something this strong falls into your lap.’ The album almost wrote itself. Wilson wrote it in the order we hear it, and the lyrics came last.

At a Q&A session at Cultplex in Manchester in February 2025, Wilson told John Robb that ‘one doorway led to the next’, and that the album flowed out of him, ‘it doesn’t always work that way.’ It took Wilson only eight weeks to record the album at this home studio. The process was quite different from recording The Raven That Refused to Sing in a studio, surrounded by other musicians. He played all the bass parts, as he did on the most recent Porcupine Tree album, Closure/Continuation (2022). When he toured with Porcupine Tree, Nate Navarro played the bass parts. When he toured The Overview, the bass parts were played by Nick Beggs.

The Musicians

As with all his albums, except the very early ones with Porcupine Tree, Wilson used real drummers rather than using electronic drums or playing them himself. For the first side of the record, he used Russell Holzman, son of his regular keyboard player, Adam Holzman. Wilson said he wanted a drummer with no obvious connection to the world of progressive rock, or even rock music in general. Holzman plays drums for the American singer Caroline Polachek. Wilson had also seen his renditions of classic drum and bass breaks on Instagram. For the second side, Wilson brought in his regular drummer Craig Blundell, partly because of his experience as a prog rock drummer with the likes of Steve Hackett, but also because of his wide-ranging knowledge of multiple musical genres. 

Links

Sources

Everley, Dave, Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space (Prog, April 2025) 
‘Struck’, Steven Wilson (February 11st [sic] 2025 (MUSICWAVES, 11/2/2025) 
Sinclair, Paul, Steven Wilson: The SDE interview: SW on his new album, The Overview, (Super Deluxe Edition, 17/03/25)
Humphries, Stephen, Steven Wilson on “The Overview” Space, the final musical frontier, (Under the Radar, 21/2/2025) 
Earls, John, Steven Wilson: “I’ve tried to reinvent the classic rock guitar solo”  (NME 18/02/25) 
Avin, Roie and Bailie, Geoff Steven Wilson on The Overview, the upcoming tour, the future of AI, and more. (Interview) (The Prog Report Podcast, 7/3/2025) 
Fischer, Tobias, Interview with Steven Wilson/ Porcupine Tree (Tonefloat Magazine, undated) 
Prasad , Anil, Steven Wilson Cosmic Perspectives (Innerviews, 25/02/25) 
Robb, John, Steven Wilson: ‘The Overview’ Audio-Visual Experience + Q&A (Cultplex Manchester, 26/02/25) 

Peter Hammill – Live Review

Tuesday 1 October 2025

RNCM, Manchester

Nearly 60 years since first playing in Manchester, Hammill is still a supreme communicator and a powerful performer

****

‘The hits just keep on coming’, quipped Peter Hammill early in his set at the RNCM in Manchester this evening. In 2013, when Guy Garvey interviewed Hammill for a documentary, The Art of Sequencing, which I produced for BBC Radio 4, he asked whether he would sequence his albums by starting with the hits. ‘What hits?!’ replied Hammill. Although not known for chart success, Hammill’s music, both as a solo artist and as leader of Van der Graaf Generator, has been part of the fabric of many lives and internal imaginative landscapes over several decades. The RNCM Concert Hall was packed with appreciative fans, who listened in spellbound silence, mesmerised by the power and conviction of Hammill’s performance.

Last time Hammill was in Manchester, in February 2022, he performed with Van der Graaf Generator, but this time he took the brave but ultimately justified decision to perform completely solo, alternating between piano and guitar. His instrumental playing was compelling, as was his guitar playing on an acoustic guitar. He had to keep retuning his guitar as he hit it so hard. The RNCM’s Steinway grand piano survived his pounding, even in the early highlight, The Lie (Bernini’s Saint Theresa) from The Silent Corner and the Empty Stage (1974), which starts with the line, ‘Genuflection, erection in church’, still startling over 50 years later. Twenty years ago, he was described as ‘the Hendrix of the voice’, and his instrument has inevitably changed as he reaches the latter half of his seventies, but it remains remarkably powerful, and his artistry and ability to communicate remain gloriously intact.

Hammill was always wise beyond his years, a deep and poetic thinker, but now some of his lyrics have gained added resonance as time passes. In Autumn from Over (1977), he wrote,

So here we are, alone –
Our children have grown up and moved away.
Living their own lives, they say…
It all seems very strange to me.

He was a young man when he wrote these prescient words, with which many in the audience would no doubt have deeply empathised. And the grim ending to Still Life from the 1976 Van der Graaf album of the same name, when Hammill embraces death, perhaps means more to Hammill and his fans now. Despite these sentiments, this was a life-affirming experience. Hammill seemed genuinely surprised to reflect that he played his encore, Afterwards, from Van der Graaf’s debut album The Aerosol Grey Machine in Manchester 57 years ago in 1968, when the Hendrix of the voice supported the Hendrix on guitar. Two well-deserved standing ovations confirmed that the audience shared Hammill’s evident pleasure in performing for us.

More about Peter Hammill…

Southwell Music Festival 2025 Day One – Mahler and the Folksong, Festival Cabaret, Festival Jazz – Live Review

Southwell Minster

Friday 22 August 2025 

Southwell Minster

Mahler and the Folksong – songs from Des Knaben Wunderhorn, and traditional folksongs arr. Gemma Bass 
The Quire, Southwell Minster 

This took place in the beautiful and intimate surroundings of the Quire in Southwell Minster. The audience sat in the choir stalls while the musicians performed on the steps to the Chancel. Marcus Farnsworth, Founder and Artistic Director of Southwell Music Festival, and baritone for this recital, introduced us to the eleventh festival, following last year’s triumphant tenth anniversary celebrations. He said he had enjoyed last year’s Bank Holiday Monday concert in the Minster’s Chapter House, with musicians including the mezzo-soprano Judy Louie Brown and the composer and violinist Gemma Bass, so they decided to do something similar this year.  

The Quire of Southwell Minster, with the statue of Bishop George Ridding (far right)

Gustav Mahler returned to texts from Des Knaben Wunderhorn (The Boy’s Magic Horn), an early nineteenth-century collection of German folk poems and songs, on several occasions, including movements of his second, third and fourth symphonies, various song collections, and the song cycle Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen (Songs of a Wayfarer). In her programme note, Gemma Bass described Mahler’s songs as follows: 

‘There’s a focus on humanness and nature, both in his subjects and his approach, but there’s also an incredible depth and something bigger being tapped into here – his own genius, perhaps, or his faith – and of course a remarkable command of musical language.’ 

Libby Burgess and Marcus Farnsworth. © Tom Platinum Morley

Farnsworth sang the five Mahler songs in the concert with accompanist Libby Burgess. Both musicians skilfully drew out the subtleties of Mahler’s musical language. They began with Wo die schönen Trompeten blasen (Where the splendid trumpets sound). Farnsworth brought out the tenderness and poignancy of this early morning meeting between a soldier and his lover before he went to war. He was more robust in Revelge (Reveille), with a rich tone and boisterous demeanour, Burgess superbly illustrating the drums played by the jolly soldier as he sang ‘Tralalee, tralalay, tralala.’ But the song had an underlying poignancy, described in the chilling final verse, ‘There in the morning lie their bones/In rank and file like tombstones.’  The Schubert-like folk song Rheinlegendchen (Little Rhine Legend) about unrequited love had a lovely flowing piano part, and there was a glimpse of hope at the end. Farnsworth’s superb word-painting was again evident in Wer hat das Liedlein erdacht? (Who made up this little song?) as he brought out the song’s gentle humour. But the highlight of his contribution was Urlicht (Primordial Light), the fourth movement of Mahler’s Second Symphony. The poem describes returning to God with the hope of resurrection, and as Farnsworth sang it, I noticed a statue of a praying figure with his back to us as if turning to God, George Ridding, first Bishop of Southwell (1884 – 1904). Farnsworth sang from the depths of inward, contemplative stillness. Burgess’s touch on the piano was sublime. The song’s ending was ecstatic, as the protagonist passed into eternal life. 

Judy Louie Brown, Gemma Bass, Lena Eckels and Nathaniel Boyd © Tom Platinum Morley

Gemma Bass said in her programme note that her English folk song arrangements were inspired by the contrast between Mahler’s ‘simplicity and complexity.’ She told the audience that she wanted to bring out Mahlerian contrasts between the personal and the universal, nature and humanity, love and war. Even the building where the concert took place was a mixture of the manmade and the nature carvings of the Minster (such as those celebrated in The Leaves of Southwell project). Bass took songs famously set by Benjamin Britten, Polly Oliver, O Waly Waly and Come you not from Newcastle? plus the traditional Northumbrian song, The Oak and the Ash, and radically transformed them. Mezzo-soprano Judy Louie Brown sang the songs with a warm, generous tone and a gentle, folky inflexion. The string players – Bass herself on violin, Lena Eckels on viola and Nathaniel Boyd on cello – often seemed to provide an ironic commentary on the jolly-sounding folk tunes, in the kind of contrast Mahler would have enjoyed. So Sweet Polly Oliver’s traditional tune was accompanied by violin and viola that sounded like bagpipes and a bell-like drone, perhaps to cast doubt on the female protagonist’s decision to please her lover better, having bravely followed him to war dressed in her dead brother’s clothes. In the bold arrangement of O Waly Waly, the strings darkly enhanced the narrative of unrequited love. Bass also wrote two Mahler-inspired instrumentals. Rosy Dawn, which took its title from the words ‘Die Morgenröt’ from Wo die schönen Trompeten blasen, featured a folky violin tune, soon joined by the viola, over a cello drone. There was a feeling of gently pensive stasis, which shifted like a flowing river, constantly changing but always the same. Three Geese took its title from the ‘drei Gäns’ of Wer hat das Liedlein erdacht? It began in the same contemplative mode as Rosy Dawn but gradually became more folky, jazzy and joyful. It ended with a humorous little squiggle, which made the audience smile. A lovely end to a delightful concert. 

Performers 
Judy Louie Brown mezzo-soprano
Marcus Farnsworth baritone 
Libby Burgess piano
Gemma Bass violin 
Lena Eckels viola 
Nathaniel Boyd cello 


Festival Cabaret 
Southwell Library 

Festival Voices © Tom Platinum Morley

Amongst the displays about the local history of Southwell, this was the first time a Festival main event took place in Southwell Library on the high street, just a short walk from the Minster. The Festival Voices performed a well-chosen mix of songs from musicals, 60s and 70s pop and rock, and music from Gershwin, Flanders and Swann, the Ink Spots, Hoagy Carmichael and Victoria Wood. All were guaranteed to raise smiles of recognition and tapping of toes in the capacity audience. 

The concert began with a showcase for the superb a cappella close harmony singing of Festival Voices, including two lovely Beatles covers. Here, There and Everywhere followed the template of the original harmonies, but with added decorations in a Swingle Singers style. Blackbird was part of the concert’s avian theme, which somehow got lost along the way; no matter! The singers mimicked guitars and whistled stylishly. A false ending raised laughter from the audience, and the real ending raised more laughter. In between, there was a stunning rendition of The Ink Spots’ 1940 hit Java Jive. There were vocal sound effects, including drumming, an upright bass and hearty ‘Aahs’ to show how much the singers loved coffee and tea.  

Individual singers from within the choir had a chance to shine, too. Chris Webb sang Hippopotamus by Flanders and Swann with operatic aplomb, and the audience gamely covered themselves in metaphorical mud in the choruses. Oliver Hunt sang Bernstein’s On the Town in a poignant rendition, and a passionate Lost in the Stars, acting out the words expressively. Alastair Brookshaw created a Bridge Over Troubled Water, echoing the delicacy of Art Garfunkel’s voice with a liquid legato in a rousing performance. He returned in a fantastic coup de théâtre, dressed as a priest and wishing the house peace as he flew onto the stage in ecclesiastical turmoil. He perfectly illustrated the painful dilemma of the protagonist in Bishop’s Song from Sondheim’s last musical, Here We Are. There was another ecclesiastical protagonist when Carrys Jones, minus the habit of the Mother Abbess, sang an operatic, heartfelt version of Climb Ev’ry Mountain.  

There was a piano interlude when the two accompanists, Libby Burgess and Paul Provost, treated us to a selection of four-hand arrangements from Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess. They played a lilting version of Summertime, a rollicking, jazzy version of It Ain’t Necessarily So, and a short but very sweet I Got Plenty O’ Nuttin. The concert ended with more joyous close harmony frolics from Festival Voices. There was a witty version of Queen’s vaudeville pastiche, Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon, complete with kazoos, honouring the band’s famous ‘No Synthesisers!’ avowal. There was Tin Pan Alley close harmony in Hoagy Carmichael’s Skylark, with excellent solos from the choir. But perhaps the highlight of the whole concert was Victoria Wood’s wickedly naughty Ballad of Barry and Freda (Let’s Do It), which features the immortal line, ‘Beat me on the bottom with a Woman’s Weekly.’ We felt sorry for poor old Barry being harassed by his wife. The song went down a storm – a fantastic ending to a superb concert. A splendid time was guaranteed for all. 

Performers
Libby Burgess piano
Paul Provost piano
Festival Voices – soloists Chris Webb, Oliver Hunt, Alastair Brookshaw, Carrys Jones


Duke Ellington’s ‘Sacred Concert’ 
The Nave, Southwell Minster 

When conductor and Artistic Director Marcus Farnsworth was 12 and studying trumpet, he discovered Simon Rattle’s The Jazz Album, which he recorded in 1987 with London Sinfonietta and others. Farnsworth was fascinated by the final piece on the album, Leonard Bernstein’s Prelude, Fugue and Riffs and always wanted to conduct it. With trumpeter Graham South, he devised a concert which included the Bernstein piece, and his dream was realised – in what he described as ‘a new departure’ for the Festival – an orchestral jazz concert with choir and clarinet and soprano soloists. 

South and Farnsworth chose music from Duke Ellington and his long-time collaborator, Billy Strayhorn, to pair with the Bernstein. In his invaluable programme notes, South quoted a comment Bernstein made to Ellington in a TV interview in 1966, 

Well maybe that’s really the difference between us – you wrote symphonic jazz, and I wrote jazz symphonies

Leonard Bernstein talking to Duke Ellington on 2 July 1966
© WTMJ-TV, a Journal Broadcast Group Station

The musicians were the Manchester-based Cottontail Orchestra, comprised of freelance musicians from various ensembles, including Beats & Pieces Big Band and Manchester Jazz Collective. Appropriately, they began the concert with the Duke Ellington composition Cottontail. This was lively big band jazz, idiomatically played with superbly virtuosic soloists. At one point, a sax quintet stood up to play some gorgeous close harmony, similar to what we had heard in the Festival Cabaret earlier. Strayhorn’s Isfahan showcased the extraordinary talent of alto sax player Emily Burkhardt, whose beautiful tone featured sensuous slides and a melismatic flow, with quivering vibrato and bluesy note bends. A surprise but welcome addition to the programme was Ellington’s Happy-Go-Lucky Local, which has a slightly sleazy and sarcastic sound, describing a local train heaving its way along the track – some material from the much more famous Night Train could also be heard. For Prelude to a Kiss, the band were joined by soprano Clare Wheeler, whose voice was suitably mellow with a touch of the great Ella Fitzgerald. The final Ellington piece in the first half was Kinda Dukish/Rockin’ in Rhythm, with a lovely syncopated piano intro from Adam Fairhall, followed by joyfully intricate big band music. Farnsworth described Prelude, Fugue and Riffs as the ‘meeting point of classical and jazz’, with a prelude for brass and kit, an ‘actual fugue’ for saxophone, and Matt Glendening on solo clarinet in the riffs section. Touches of 20th-century classical music could be heard, such as Stravinsky’s Les noces, which features four pianos. There was an almost avant-garde section, but also some Rhapsody in Blue-style clarinet playing and plenty of stunning big band music. Farnsworth worked very hard, bringing out a superbly life-affirming performance from the players. 

Duke Ellington. Source: Wikimedia Commons/Public Domain

Part two was devoted to Duke Ellington’s Sacred Concert, which has a complicated performance history. The Concert of Sacred Music was premiered sixty years ago, in mid-September 1965, at Grace Cathedral, San Francisco. The Second Sacred Concert was premiered in 1968, and the Third in 1973. Ellington had reused some of his music from previous compositions, and when touring the Concert he was often joined by local choirs, and he adapted music from all three versions to suit their abilities. Farnsworth conducted a fourth version, which he described as ‘the best of all three Sacred Concerts’, produced in 1993 by John Høybye and Peder Pedersen for soprano solo, choir and big band. The version he chose was, in his words, ‘appropriate for the building.’ This was true in a religious sense, but also in an acoustic sense as the Minster’s superb acoustics are clear, warm and generous, ideal for big band jazz and chamber choir.  

Graham South (standing). © Tom Platinum Morley

Farnsworth was right to choose a version of the Concert that emphasised the choir’s contribution. The Festival Voices were ecstatic in the opening Praise God, based on Psalm 150, and when they repeated the words, there was a bluesy big band beneath. In Heaven, they sang like the best of Hollywood choruses. There were moments of sublime beauty when they sang a cappella in Freedom, Come Sunday and Almighty God. There was also the chance for soprano Clare Wheeler to demonstrate her skills, including scatting in The Majesty of God, some avant-garde vocalising in T.G.T.T. (Too Good To Title) and a warm legato in David Danced Before the Lord. The Cottontail Orchestra matched the quality of the choir. Highlights included: Graham South’s trumpet solo in The Shepherd, using his mute to create an earthy, almost feral growling sound; Johnny Hunter’s drum solo at the start of David Danced…; and the tireless playing of bass player Joshua Cavanagh-Brierly throughout. The piece ended with an invitation to Praise God and Dance, an ecstatic hymn to God. Although there was no actual dancing in the audience, our spirits danced as the concert came to a rapturous end. 

Performers 
Clare Wheeler soprano
Matthew Glendening clarinet
Festival Voices
The Cottontail Orchestra
Marcus Farnsworth conductor 

Repertoire 
Duke Ellington Cottontail 
Billy Strayhorn and Duke Ellington Isfahan
Duke Ellington Happy-Go-Lucky Local
Duke Ellington Prelude to a Kiss
Harry Carney, Irving Mills and Duke Ellington Kinda Dukish/Rockin’ in Rhythm
Leonard Bernstein Prelude, Fugue and Riffs 

Duke Ellington, arr. John Høybye and Peder Pedersen Sacred Concert 


For a review of Day Two of the Festival, click here

Shez Raja – Live Review

Friday 18 July 2025

Future Yard Birkenhead

*****

Guthrie Govan Joins Shez Raja for Triumphant Birkenhead Show

Shez Raja (and Chris Jerome, back left)

This was a triumphant homecoming gig for bass player Shez Raja, returning to his native Birkenhead. Raja announced that he was born on the Wirral; it felt like a home audience – his parents and some of his school friends were there in the capacity crowd.

Afterwards, a relieved Raja revealed that disaster almost struck before the gig. He was being interviewed when he felt a wasp behind his ear. He flicked it away, and the wasp, obviously part of the anti-joy police, decided to sting him on his fretting hand (the left). Playing bass with a swollen index finger would have been difficult. Fortunately, his resourceful interviewer supplied antihistamines and ice, and the disaster was averted.

Guthrie Gova (left) and Shez Raja

Raja launched the first set with three cuts from his new album, Spellbound. The lineup on Friday was very different from that of the album itself, as all ’37 guest musicians’ on the album (as Raja later quipped) couldn’t come. This meant that some of the songs from the album had less of an Indian feel – there was no sitar, tabla, sarangi, or bansuri. Instead, Raja was backed by a superb rock/jazz band, with the legendary Guthrie Govan on guitar, Chris Jerome on keyboards and Adam Texeira (a new addition to the Raja fold) on drums.

Govan played guitar on three Steven Wilson albums, including Hand. Cannot. Erase. (2015), and it was good to see an audience member wearing a t-shirt with the album cover on it (this year marks the tenth anniversary of the album. Govan’s playing throughout the evening was astonishing. Govan himself often looked mildly surprised as he looked down at the incredible dexterity of his quicksilver fingers as he created a continuous flow of joy. But he also brought delicate ornamentation to one of the highlights of the first set, ‘Together We Fly’ from the new album. There was some gorgeous duetting from Govan and Raja in this song, with Raja playing the lovely melody that Fiza Haider sings on the album version. The two musicians shared a smile as they headed towards the contemplative ending of the song.

Raja, a genial host, explained that there are three different versions of Spellbound (cue rising chords from Jerome on keyboards to increase the sense of anticipation). Raja showed us the vinyl version (which sold out during the interval), the CD version, then the download, which he illustrated with a wave of the hand. He said if we liked the live versions of the new songs, we should buy the album; if we didn’t like the new ones, the album versions are better! To illustrate the point, the live version of the title track was heavier than on the album, with uplifting, virtuosic guitar and bass, and a thundering drum solo from Adam Texeira, which left the audience transfixed.

Raja did take us on a brief tour of the Punjab, with ‘Maharaja’ from 2021’s appropriately named Tales From the Punjab, inspired by his visit to the Punjab the previous year to explore his cultural roots. Govan provided Indian-style improvisations, and there was fantastic keyboard work from Jerome, syncopated chords with a lively instrumental commentary from Raja and Goven, which led to a flowing keyboard solo that drew warm applause.

The final song of the first set was ‘our craziest tune’, a stunning version of ‘Get Cosmic’, from Journey to Shambhala (2019), which Raja promised us would suck us into a black hole and out the other side. Reader, it did. The song began with eerie psychedelic noises, then an invigorating bass and guitar riff in perfect unison. There was a lovely spacey section, over which Govan’s solo was thrilling, giving the audience no time to breathe. The perfectly controlled madness of the song brought the first set to a euphoric end.

The bar had been set very high by the first set, but the second set was even better. It began withan ecstatic version of ‘Chakras on the Wall’, in which the band traded four-bar phrases which became increasingly extreme, making the audience smile. There were some cheeky moments when the four musicians quoted riffs from famous rock songs. Raja quipped that the bands might sue; an audience member replied, ‘We won’t tell anyone!’ ‘Vishnu’ from the new album ‘brought the Punjab to Birkenhead.’ This was completely different from the album version. It began with raucous drums, the kick drum providing visceral support for the syncopated, upbeat opening tune. A pensive breakdown section brought a quicksilver bass solo from Raja at the top of the fretboard. Govan played a bluesy solo with string bends and some tapping, making it all sound very easy. There was a break from all the structured jazz/rock mayhem with ‘Song for John’, a beautiful ballad written for Shez’s newborn son 14 years ago. This featured a mellow, emotional bassline played with superb legato by Raja, with a fretless bass sound reminiscent of the great Jaco Pastorius. There was a lovely repeated phrase, with a yearning interval the second time around, expressing Raja’s parental joy.

Raja quoted a review in Jazzwise magazine of the next song, ‘Quiverwish’, which apparently said it began with some Mark King-style slap bass but ‘it soon subsided.’ NickHolmesMusic enjoys a bit of slap bass, so that wasn’t a problem.This was a seriously funky track, with a Moog-like synth solo from Jerome with some evocative pitch-bends and another drum solo from Texeira, sounding like a complete percussion section on his own. According to the setlist, the band was due to play ‘My Imaginary Friend’ next, but in his excitement, Raja left it out, so we were left to imagine what his friend was like. Instead, for the encore, Raja asked us whether ‘anyone liked African music… well, we’re going to play an Eastern European folk tune.’ Before we had time to register our disappointment (although NickHolmesMusic does enjoy a bit of Eastern European folk music…), the band launched into ‘Freedom’, in which Govan introduced some African-style guitar playing, showing how versatile he is. By now, the audience was dancing and the joint was jumping. A joyful ending to an excellent evening.

Personnel

Shez Raja bass
Guthrie Govan guitar
Adam Texeira drums
Chris Jerome keyboards

For a review of Shez Raja’s new album Spellbound click here

Interview – Malcolm Galloway from Hats Off Gentlemen It’s Adequate on the new album The Uncertainty Principle and the Prog the Forest Festival

The Cover of the Uncertainty Principle by Hats Off Gentlemen It’s Adequate

Malcolm Galloway is the lead singer, songwriter, guitarist and keyboard-player of London-based prog rock band Hats Off Gentlemen It’s Adequate, with bass player Mark Gatland.

Nick Holmes Music met with Galloway in London to discuss the band’s latest album The Uncertainty Principle and the band’s annual Prog the Forest festival, which takes place at the Fiddler’s Elbow in London. (For a review of last year’s festival, see here.)

Malcolm Galloway

Nick Holmes Music: You have just announced another Prog the Forest festival for December 2025. Tell me about last year’s event.

MG: It’s our annual environmental charity fundraiser. We raise funds for the World Land Trust. This charity works in collaboration with local partners and local communities to buy threatened land that’s environmentally significant. It puts it into a legally protected permanent trust so that it can be used for the benefit of local communities and the environment. This has an impact on the climate. They focus on strategically important areas, for example, providing bridges between two isolated bits of ecosystem that may not, in isolation, be sustainable. But if there’s a small but significant bridge between them, it can then become a much more thriving ecosystem.

The organisers of this event are Mark Gatland and me from Hats Off Gentlemen It’s Adequate and Chris Parkins, the London Prog Gigs promoter. He’s a wonderful promoter of independent progressive music in London. I think he’s one of the main driving forces behind the resurgence of independent new progressive music in London. Last year was our sixth year and the most financially successful to date. We raised enough to protect 26.25 acres of threatened habitat.

So, we’re really pleased, and we’re delighted with all the performers who so kindly gave their time and talents to the event. We’re very fortunate to get such extraordinary musicians agreeing to come and play our little festival. We’ve developed so we’ve got an audience that is aware of the event and regularly comes and seems to be very, very supportive of the musicians. I really enjoy the atmosphere there.

Nick Holmes Music: It felt very supportive. Several of the musicians, after playing their set, hung around to listen to the other sets.

MG: Yes. There are quite a few musicians who come along even in years when they’re not performing.

Nick Holmes Music: It felt to me also like an artistic success – you had everything from solo jazz flute to something bordering on heavy metal, to acoustic covers of Rush songs.

MG: One of the lovely things about being involved in this kind of event is that we can put on things that we want to listen to. Also, the prog audience, from our experience, is open-minded and I really like that.

We know that if we put on a band that’s let’s say, veering into the more metal area or one that’s more folky or acoustic, or that uses skulls as percussion instruments – the wonderfully theatrical Spriggan Mist – the audience will appreciate them.

One year, we had John Etheridge, who is obviously very familiar to prog audiences from his prog work, but he was doing a set with Vimala Rowe, a wonderful jazz singer. And so, we feel that although there’s a centre of gravity in prog rock for the event, the idea is for it to be progressive in a wide sense, and it really aims to be quite diverse.

I was certainly pleased with the range and the diversity we had last year, and I like the idea that people might hear a genre they’ve never heard before and come away thinking, ‘I didn’t expect to like that. I now really want to go and check that out.’

Nick Holmes Music: I spoke to a couple of members of the band Mountainscape. They told me their set was mild by their standards, and that they can play much, much heavier than that. Did you ask them to do that?

MG: We didn’t ask them to, but it’s an interesting question. To what extent do you tailor your set according to the event? When we’re thinking about our sets at other events, we’re certainly aware of what kind of event it is. We’ve done things like art galleries, where we play a different kind of set compared to playing at something like a metal festival. But when we’re doing prog festivals, we feel able to have quite a broad palette that we can include in the event.

I don’t think we’ve ever tried to suggest to any of the performers what they do or don’t do. But I could also understand if they know the kind of event it is, they might have prog and more metal elements, and they might then focus more on the prog elements.

Nick Holmes Music: Thinking of the Hats Off Set at Prog the Forest, you’ve adapted some of your sets to the fact that you didn’t have a keyboard?

MG: It’s just a practical consideration. I’m probably better at the keyboard than the guitar, realistically, but the guitar is much easier to carry because it tends to be a bit lighter. I don’t particularly like playing a non-weighted keyboard, it’s not what I’m used to under the fingers. On the other hand, weighted keyboards are beyond my lifting capacity. And because I can’t drive, if we’re playing in a venue that has a keyboard, I’ll probably include some keyboard parts, not necessarily songs where the keyboard is a focus on the album, but I’ll do some more solos on keyboard rather than guitar.

Sometimes we do sets where we perform a first half keyboard-oriented and a second half guitar-oriented, such as at the Camden Club. They’ve got a nice keyboard there.

Hats Off Gentlemen It's Adequate at The Camden Club
Hats Off Gentlemen It’s Adequate at the Camden Club, London

Nick Holmes Music: Tell me about recording the new album, The Uncertainty Principle.

MG: The way that Mark and I work, it’s an iterative process, so I will send him a version of a mix, and he will come back with suggestions, and point out for instance where I’ve accidentally turned off a track. So, for example, we had a track which was going quite well, and I spent lot of time spent trying to get rid of digital clicks that seem to arise, horrible mouth noises that I don’t like. I managed to get rid of them, but in doing so I’d accidentally deleted half the guitar solo. So then I had to go back to try to find out where it went. That’s the process until we gradually get to a point where we’re both happy.

Nick Holmes Music: Who has the final say?

MG: We’ve not had anything where we have particularly disagreed so far. That hasn’t been an issue, it tends to be consensual. I think, though, that Mark will often be the one saying, ‘That’s fine, you don’t need to keep tinkering.’ There’s a temptation to keep making tiny changes, but that comes with the risk of accidentally creating bigger mistakes than the problem I’m trying to fix.

Once we think all the tracks are finished, then we’re checking that the levels on each track sound right compared to each other, or if anything stands out as being a different kind of sonic world, where we might need to go back and change that in the mix, even if it worked for that song in isolation. We want things to work for the album as whole as well, so a little bit of compromise and balancing at that point.

Nick Holmes Music: When you reach that stage where it’s almost done, do you ever either radically change the running order, or even drop a track? Steven Wilson on The Future Bites  dropped a track at very short notice. And for the new Cure album, Songs of a Lost World, Robert Smith got as far as printing the lyrics and then dropped the track Bodiam Sky so if you buy the physical album, the lyrics for that missing track are still there.

MG: That’s interesting. We’ve never done anything that late. Normally we have to cut down the amount of material that we want to include to what fits on a CD.

This also feeds into why we haven’t got any releases on vinyl. There are two main reasons. One is that for obscure bands with limited potential sales, the unit cost becomes probably more than 10 times the price of a CD.

The other reason is that because of the length of our albums, each one would have to be a double album. It would be a lovely thing to have and stick up on the wall, but it would be quite expensive for anybody to buy.

We normally have more material than we can fit, so we’re having to trim things and drop things, but we also work hard to make sure that there’s a flow and shape to the albums. So, we had a track, Helgoland [that later became the B-side of the single Between Two Worlds] that we both like, but just in terms of the shape of the album, it made more sense not to include it. It was an instrumental and in terms of the narrative of the album, it would have meant overbalancing one part of the album in terms of instrumentals versus vocal tracks. Although you have an affection for the things you’ve created, you also don’t want to make the album less strong by forcing in things that don’t fit.

The other aspect is the packaging because we’re an independent nano label. When I say a record label, I don’t mean anything very commercial. It means my laptop, my very creaking 10-year-old laptop, and stuffing envelopes. It’s not particularly glamorous.

We design all the artwork and the packaging, and it always comes as a pleasant surprise to me with these very complicated-looking Photoshop templates, trying to make sure that the right bit of the booklets, where it all gets glued, overlap so that actually everything lines up. I don’t find that at all intuitive. Mark and I design these together, and then he does a little mock-up with glue and scissors to check that what we’re sending off to the printers isn’t going to come back looking like complete rubbish, hopefully.

That’s also an iterative process. I’ll write something and send a draft to Mark, ‘OK, well, there’s a spelling mistake here, and oh, there’s a space before a comma here. You need to get rid of that’, magnifying these things on the screen and trying to find these tiny little things without accidentally making it worse.

The cover of Between Two Worlds, released as a single on 29 January 2025

Nick Holmes Music: Tell me about a track that you have played live a few times, Between Two Worlds.

MG: It’s by far the least twiddly and complicated and technical song on the album. It’s just me with a piano, plus some strings and a very subtle synth pad. We found it the most difficult one to record. I think people might assume that the more complicated stuff is the hardest, but that isn’t necessarily the case, when something is very exposed, like in that song where it’s quite quiet and the voice doesn’t have anything to hide behind.

To me, it’s quite an emotional song. It’s about somebody being in an MRI scanner. I don’t know if you’re familiar with how MRIs work, but it’s all based on quantum physics. The whole theme of the album relates to quantum physics, the uncertainty principle. It sounds very abstract and unreal, but every day thousands of people are having scans that are affecting their lives with this technology that builds a picture of what’s going on inside your body based on flipping the spin of your hydrogen nuclei. And it just sounds so science fiction. It doesn’t sound like a real thing, but it’s just so routine and we don’t often think about it.

The back story that I had for the song was a person who has had cancer, has had treatment, has had a rough time and is having a scan to find out whether it’s spread or whether the treatment’s been successful. It’s the Schrödinger’s Cat idea. If you’re in a closed system, and something happens at a random quantum level, can it be said from the outside to have happened, not happened, or both at the same time?

The nature of certain things at the quantum level is extremely counterintuitive. It sounds a bit ridiculous but there does seem to be good evidence for it, although not necessarily on a macroscopic level.

In the context of the song, the whole Cat thing is meant to be metaphorical. I think it was originally used as a criticism of the theory rather than a way of advocating for it. Just because something can happen at the level of a tiny particle doesn’t mean it happens for a person or a cat.

But as an analogy, we’ve got somebody inside a scanner, and these results are being generated on a computer somewhere. Until somebody looks at them, they exist between these two future selves.

I’ve had some experiences, but not quite as terrible as that on a personal level, situations where, depending on how a binary choice goes, that’s outside of your control, your life takes one path or another. So that song was inspired by the awful uncertainty of people in that kind of situation, including far too many family and friends.

We did a version that we really liked, except it was done on a real acoustic piano and it had a very squeaky sustain pedal, so it’s got this really emotional stuff going on and all this ‘squeak, squeak.’ I spent ages trying to edit it out the squeak, which was probably a waste of time because it just made it sound artificial. If you had lots of drums and synthesisers and twiddly guitar solos, you probably could have hidden that I’d removed the squeak.

So I then tried with a home electric piano, which was better, but I probably sing better standing up, and I can’t do that while I’m playing the piano. So I was trying to do the piano part first, then do the vocal on top of it. But then it’s a song that’s meant to be quite fluid rather than just sticking to a metronome. So then I tried to record it, piano first without a metronome, then sitting the vocals on top, but trying to concentrate on remembering what the piano was about to do while singing distracted me from the meaning of the words.

And then we tried it on guitar, and that came close to being used as a guitar and voice version. However, it still didn’t quite feel like what we wanted. Then we tried bigger arrangements, and then it felt like it was overblown.  In the final version, some subtle strings are blended in, but it is largely voice and piano.

We went through quite a few different key change options because the lowest parts of the song fit my voice in the morning, and the later parts of the song I can only really do in the evening, but ideally you want it to be more of a one take feel, so we had to find a compromise that was near enough for both bits.

Nick Holmes Music: Tell me about the title track, The Uncertainty Principle.

MG: It starts ominously, and when we play it live, we don’t do much other than the harmonised vocal in that initial section. Then the guitars and bass come in, and it gets a bit more hectic. It ends with a solo that isn’t the usual kind of solo I would do. There are certain things that your fingers are comfortable with, and you can do that kind of thing without really thinking about it. And then there are other things where you write it.

Most of my solos take a more intuitive approach, but this one was more written, choosing specific notes. So that was a bit of a challenge to remember to play the right notes rather than just the usual blues scales.

Nick Holmes Music: Did you create that solo by comping it together from lots of different versions, or did it just flow as you wrote it?

MG: I built up the idea of it, and then it was done in one take. I think the whole melody was in one take.

Nick Holmes Music: Does the new album have a concept or a narrative structure?

MG: It starts with Certainty, which is kind of a scene-setting song about the change in the philosophy of science, when the idea of uncertainty, being an inherent property of reality, became mainstream science. We extrapolate from that into uncertainty in more interpersonal and psychological aspects, which I acknowledge is a scientific liberty, but it’s still the idea that certainty in various fields has been shown to be a less reliable interpretation of reality than is typically assumed.

I think you could argue that there is an increasing understanding of the unreliability of our own introspection in psychology, our certainty about ourselves. Freud gets credited with pioneering an emphasis on our unconscious drives, although he wasn’t the first person to address unconscious influences in human behaviour.

If you look at false memories, it shows how we can be fairly easily manipulated into being pretty certain of things that are demonstrably not true. So uncertainty in its various manifestations is the overriding theme, and the first song introduces that theme.

Everything Changed develops the uncertainty principle theme. Then we have an instrumental, The Ultraviolet Catastrophe, a very dramatic name. It describes emission spectra not fitting the theoretical model of classical Physics. It doesn’t sound very catastrophic. In Physics, I’m a layperson. I have an interest in the history of science, and the philosophy of science but I’m not a Physics expert, but basically at the beginning of the 20th century, you had predictions that were made based on the understanding of Physics at the time, which were completely incompatible with what was being found by experiments, and this was seen to be a catastrophe.

The Cover of Copenhagen by Hats Off Gentlemen It's Adequate
The Cover of Copenhagen, released as a single on 11 June 2024

Then it moves to Copenhagen and we’re moving chronologically as the album goes on. The song is about the disputed conversation during WW2 between Werner Heisenberg, head of the German nuclear programme and his former mentor Niels Bohr.

The next song is the title track The Uncertainty Principle. So we’ve taken the character of Heisenberg from Copenhagen. A few years later, he’s being hunted by Moe Berg, the American spy and former professional baseball player, who was sent to attend a public lecture Heisenberg gave in Zurich at which he was supposed to decide whether to assassinate him, based on how close he was to developing a nuclear bomb.

Quite why a former professional baseball player who then become a spy is in a position to judge from a public lecture whether or not somebody is on the verge of building nuclear bomb, seems to be quite a bizarre thing. But Berg turns up in Zurich with his pistol in his jacket and with his mission, and he decides not to assassinate Heisenberg. We now know in retrospect that they weren’t particularly close to developing the bomb.

Throughout the album we have that recurrent theme of decision making under conditions of uncertainty. All that was influenced by my work in medicine in the past, where I was involved in teaching about misdiagnosis, where these issues of certainty and confidence were a major issue in misdiagnosis. And there are references in the lyrics throughout the album to lyrics of earlier songs on the album for the same characters.

Then we have another instrumental, Cause And Effect (But Not Necessarily In That Order).

Then we move forward a few years to The Think Tank. The song was very loosely inspired by the experiences of Daniel Ellsberg, who worked for a think tank called the RAND Corporation set up in the 1950s. It was a company set up by the American Air Force originally. It was one of the first think tanks where the government employs them to do research on strategic things. And one of their jobs was designing nuclear war planning.

Ellsberg wrote about his experiences of working in that industry, and he described the feeling that it seemed like an ordinary, nice office job in an academic environment. Everyone’s very polite and friendly, very sympathetic and full of empathy. But then, a few minutes later, their job is working out where to target the missiles at particular towns on the other side to maximise casualties.

He described an experience where he suddenly had that sense of being outside of yourself, looking and thinking, what am I doing? What are we doing here? All these very normal, nice people using their very powerful minds to try and plan how to wipe out hundreds of millions of people. And so later on, he became a whistleblower.

The song was very loosely based on his description of his experience of that jarring disconnect of doing something he thought was monstrous in a very normal office environment. This was planning for an atrocity that, fortunately, so far hasn’t happened, but perhaps you can imagine people involved in other atrocities, where within that group they’re empathic to each other, and in other ways act in a way we would consider very normal. It is easy for us to divide the world into us and them, and to accept or even contribute to appalling actions against the people we don’t see as ‘us’. The danger of dehumanising others is a recurrent theme in our songwriting.

But that individual song is quite playful sounding, even though the thematic material obviously isn’t very playful; it’s got a kind of retro, rocky type of feel, but not going back all the way to the 50s, which is when the actual song idea is set.

The Cover of One Word That Means the World (Arkhipov)
The Cover of One Word That Means The World (Arkhipov) released as a single on 5 April 2025

One Word That Means The World (Arkhipov) is definitely not playful sounding, but it’s maybe got a bit more of an 80’s rock type feel with the twiddly guitars and that kind of production. I know that the story isn’t set in the 80s, but on the other hand the difference in time between now and then is similar to the difference in time when I was growing up versus the events in the stories that we’re talking about. So that sense of sounding like it was made a few decades previously was an aesthetic choice aiming to reflect the setting of the story.

One Word That Means The World (Arkhipov) is about the Soviet submariner who refused to fire a nuclear weapon during the Cuban Missile Crisis.

That takes us to the end of the historical narrative, and we have a bit of a pause with an instrumental. And then we come to a sort of fictional now with the ‘between two worlds’ of the person in an MRI machine, bringing together an element of the quantum story, plus something much more personal than what’s been in the rest of the album.

Nick Holmes Music: So, you’re going into fiction, but in Between Two Worlds are you also drawing on your past experience and your teaching? 

MG: I’ve had a lot of experience unfortunately of cancer-related things in terms of family bereavement and friends, and also having been a cancer doctor, and I have had lots of scans for various things myself, though I’m not claiming I’ve had anything as awful as a lot of people in that kind of situation. But those were the influences that went into that song.

And then the last song is Living with Uncertainty. I know a lot of our thematic content is on the darker side, but we try to end the albums, I’m not saying with a happy ending, but at least with a glimmer of hope, we don’t just make it completely depressing.

Living with Uncertainty is meant to round it off and it does have some lyrical quotes from earlier in the album. It’s about acknowledging that living with uncertainty is an inherent part of life. It’s difficult – it’s very comforting to grab onto something and say, ‘well, I’m certain of this, regardless of any evidence’, but the song aims to argue that we don’t have to think we’ve always got all the answers.

I’m not saying that we shouldn’t be intellectually curious and trying to find things out. I’m very pro science, but it would be a fundamentally unscientific approach to think that you can always be certain. In most things in life, I suspect if we questioned, why might we be wrong rather than always looking for ways to justify that we are right, we might get along with each other better as a species.

Nick Holmes Music: Does that bring a kind of peace then, if you can reconcile yourself to that?

MG:  I would say it’s something I aspire to rather than necessarily achieve. I’m not some kind of entirely calm guru; I’m a very anxious person. If I lived in the way that the song would suggest, I’d probably be happier than if I lived in the way that I usually manage. So, I’m certainly not preaching, saying you should be like me, but I do consciously try to challenge my own assumptions.

It’s very easy to think people are excessively certain of things. But it’s very rare that people apply that to people they agree with, or to themselves. It’s very easy to say – whichever political viewpoint you have, or whichever your preferred genre of music, or any kind of polarising thing – ‘that person is wrong to be really sure of themselves’, but not to apply the same principle to the people you agree with.

The Uncertainty Principle is out now. Prog the Forest takes place at the Fiddler’s Elbow, Camden, London at 13.30 on Saturday 6 December 2025.

BBC Philharmonic Orchestra – Mahler Symphony No. 3 ‘The Voice of Nature’ – Live Review

John Storgårds, Jess Dandy and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. Photo: Chris Payne

Saturday 14 June 2025

Bridgewater Hall, Manchester

*****

John Storgårds conducts the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra in a breathtaking performance of Mahler’s Third Symphony

John Storgårds, Jess Dandy and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. Photo: Chris Payne
John Storgårds, Jess Dandy and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. Photo: Chris Payne

Having just come back from the Shostakovich Festival in Leipzig, with performances by two of the world’s most renowned orchestras – the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra and the Boston Symphony Orchestra – I was looking forward to returning to the Bridgewater Hall in Manchester for a concert by the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra by way of comparison.

The Leipzig Gewandhaus concert hall, where the Festival took place, has an internal design similar to Manchester’s magnificent Bridgewater Hall, and both feature fine acoustics – Prof. Trevor Cox of the University of Salford chose the latter as one of the best concert halls in the world. It’s gratifying to report that the BBC Philharmonic, shortlisted for Gramophone‘s Orchestra of the Year award in 2023, more than matched their illustrious rivals in a stunning performance of Mahler’s gargantuan Third Symphony on Saturday.

Interior of The Gewandhaus, Leipzig
Interior of The Gewandhaus, Leipzig. Photo: author’s own

The concert was billed as ‘the voice of nature’, but as Stephen Johnson said in his astute and informative programme note, Mahler perhaps had Nietzsche in mind when he wrote the following,

Mahler provided subtitles for each of the six movements, showing how they related to nature. Although he later withdrew them, they still offer a valuable guide to the symphony’s journey from the awakening of elemental nature, via communications from flowers and animals to what humankind and the angels communicate, to a vision of love and perhaps even heaven or God. The subtitles are quoted below.

Movement One Pan Awakes – Summer Marches In (Bacchic procession)

The hugely ambitious opening movement is almost as long as the combined length of the remaining five movements. On its own, it’s as long as many full-length symphonies, but anyone expecting a clear symphonic development in its structure would be confused. As Stephen Johnson points out, it ‘feels more like a fantastic kaleidoscope of wildly contrasting sounds.’

The movement began with a splendid brass opening, rich, bright, and strident, followed by passionately anguished lower strings, spiky trumpets and shimmering upper strings. Conductor John Storgårds brought out the detail of this strange but compelling music, combining precision with passion, as he did throughout this superb performance.

An ominous bass drum announced Pan, the god of the wild, rousing himself with what sounded like a Wagnerian funeral march. Offset against this was a lilting, pastoral section for woodwind and strings, with a Romantic violin solo from Leader Zoë Beyers, whose solos were all excellent.

The highlight of the movement was a series of solos from trombonist Richard Brown; at times, it was a concerto for trombone and orchestra. His playing was warm and rich, with a lovely legato and a mellow tone set against harmonically shifting, evocative lower strings.

The movement ended with the Bacchic procession, led by the god Bacchus (the Roman name for the Greek god Dionysus, god of wine and fertility). There was an explosion of joy and ecstasy, a stunning ending to the first half of the symphony. Although it was tempting to applaud, the audience sat in respectful silence.

Movement Two – What the Flowers in the Meadow Tell Me

After the tumultuous onslaught and epic length of the first movement, the second movement is a short minuet. Mahler allowed it to be performed separately before the whole symphony was premiered, with mixed feelings, ‘This modest little piece will no doubt present me to the public as the ‘sensuously’ perfumed ‘singer of nature.’ He wanted the complete symphony to show that ‘nature hides within itself everything that is frightful, great and also lovely.’

The BBC Philharmonic brought out the loveliness of this movement, with graceful, sweeping strings that created an idealised image of pastoral meadows, recalling Wordsworth’s lines from his Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood (1807).

The orchestra played the movement with a precision and lightness of touch that was remarkable for such large forces. The effect was enchanting and gently uplifting.

Movement Three – What the Animals in the Forest Tell Me

The third movement is dedicated to the animals of the forest, and the wisdom they communicate. The animals are gentle, enjoying their pastoral setting, with perhaps a hint of sadness and a little jeopardy.

The movement began with a characterful clarinet solo by John Bradbury, followed by themes that scattered across the orchestra like a waterfall. The frolicking of the forest animals was interrupted by an offstage trumpet, played by Gwyn Owen, representing a post horn that seemed to evoke nostalgia for the countryside. Owen’s playing was mellow, rich and warm with a beautiful legato.

There was a heart-stopping moment of stasis when suspended strings and hymn-like brass accompanied the trumpet. It seemed we were heading for a gentle ending to the movement, but Mahler wanted to remind us of the wildness of Pan, and the brutality lurking beneath nature’s serene surface.

Movement Four – What Humanity Tells Me

The first movement, which describes the effect of humanity on the composer, aptly features a mezzo-soprano singing a text by Friedrich Nietzsche from his philosophical novel Also sprach Zarathustra (1883–85). This mysterious passage describes ‘midnight’ addressing humankind about the depth of joy and pain in the world, and the battle between the two.

There was luxury casting on Saturday, with the contralto Jess Dandy, who was so impressive in last April’s performance of Bach’s St John Passion, returning to the Bridgewater Hall. Her deep, warm contralto tones were ideally suited to the profound text. Time was suspended as we reflected on the ‘deep eternity’ of the text.

Jess Dandy. Photo: Clare Park

Movement Five – What the Angels Tell Me

The fifth movement takes its text Es sungen drei Engel einen süßen Gesang (Three Angels Sang a Sweet Song) from Des Knaben Wunderhorn (The Boy’s Magic Horn), the collection of folk poems that Mahler returned to so often. The children’s choir opens the movement singing ‘Bimm, bamm’ to represent bells, joined by real bells from the orchestra. The three-part women’s chorus represents the angels, later joined by the soprano soloist, singing for joy because Saint Peter has been absolved from his sin in denying Jesus.

Offstage bells. Photo: Chris Payne
Grahm Johns with offstage bells. Photo: Chris Payne

The choirs were made up of CBSO Children’s Chorus and Youth Chorus, and women of the Hallé Choir. The children, having sat quietly through over an hour of music, were well-drilled, singing without scores, and bringing lively tones to the music. The women sang mellifluously, joined by the luxurious warmth of Dandy’s contralto. The overall effect was suitably angelic and heavenly.

Movement Six – What Love Tells Me

The symphony is bookended by another long, instrumental movement. Mahler summed up its place in the symphony’s journey,

On Saturday, the BBC Philharmonic, under its Chief Conductor John Storgårds, beautifully illustrated the final ascent. The movement began with a quietly ecstatic string melody; Storgårds stepped back on the podium as if to luxuriate in the sound that was reminiscent of Wagener’s Parsifal. An ecstatic climax on strings and horns revealed a vision of heaven, of quiet joy lovingly created by the orchestra. There was a hymn-like sense of inevitability, with warm but precise ensemble.

The orchestra shone, shimmering with joy, as it reached another transcendent climax, with Storgårds becoming more vigorous and animated. The music fell away with a gentle string melody, until there was another climax of terrifying beauty and luminescence, similar to the moment in Edward Elgar’s Dream of Gerontius when the Soul is briefly in the ‘awful Presence of its God.’

The brass played a lovely chorale, beautifully controlled like the finest of brass bands. Storgårds danced on the podium at the final climax, with almost the whole orchestra playing the final joyful melody as we ascended into heaven; there was a moment of peace, followed by a massive concluding chord with vigorous double timpani.

John Storgårds and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. Photo: Chris Payne
John Storgårds and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. Photo: Chris Payne

Storgårds began to drop his arms slowly; the convention is that the audience waits until this gesture is complete, but the audience were having none of, bursting immediately into rapturous applause. This marked the end of an outstanding performance, proving that there is no need to leave Manchester to experience the highest quality music-making.

Programme

Gustav Mahler Symphony No. 3 in D minor

Performers

BBC Philharmonic Orchestra
John Storgårds conductor
Jess Dandy contralto
Hallé Choir
CBSO Children’s Chorus
CBSO Youth Chorus

The concert will be broadcast on BBC Radio 3 on Wednesday 2 July at 19.30, and will be available for 30 days after broadcast on BBC Sounds.

Steven Wilson’s Space Songs Part II: The Solo Years

Steven Wilson. Image copyright Kevin Westenberg

Steven Wilson’s latest album, The Overview, is inspired by the emotional and sometimes spiritual experience that astronauts have described when they look back at the Earth from space, known as ‘The Overview Effect’. This article reflects on Wilson’s space songs from his previous solo work. For an analysis of the space songs he wrote for his band Porcupine Tree, click here.

The Cover of Hand. Cannot. Erase.
The cover of Hand. Cannot. Erase. (2015)

Happy Returns (Hand. Cannot. Erase. 2015)

Hand. Cannot. Erase, Wilson’s fourth solo album, was released in 2015. The concept is based on the true story of the life of Joyce Carol Vincent and the grim circumstances of her death. Joyce was found in her London flat in January 2006. She had been dead for nearly three years. Her body was only discovered when bailiffs broke in to recover rent arrears.

As the protagonist for his album, Wilson created an isolated character, who is never named, loosely based on the story. For the Deluxe Edition of the album, he created a whole back story for his character. The book provides unique and realistic artefacts from the protagonist’s life, beautifully recreated, including a sketchbook, newspaper cuttings, a postcard, a birth certificate, a letter, a handwritten mixtape cover and her diary. The book also contains entries from her Blog. In her Blog, the protagonist mentions ‘the Visitors’ several times. It’s unclear whether they are real, or figments of her imagination. They may be aliens from outer space.

The words of the song, the penultimate track on the album, come from a letter the protagonist wrote to her brother, dated 22 December 2014, a physical copy of which can be found in the Deluxe Edition book, handwritten in blue ink on lined paper. In a blog dated the day before, she describes her relationship with him, ‘I barely know my brother. I know he has a wife and two children, but I have no idea if he’s happy or what is important to him.’ Poignantly, she refers to the annual Christmas card she has just received from him and the invitation to visit that she knows she won’t take up, ‘for some reason this time it made me cry.’ Perhaps this is because she now realises she will never see him again. 

The end of the album is ambiguous. The letter and the song both end with the words, ‘I’m feeling kind of drowsy now/So I’ll finish this tomorrow.’ This could be a note of hope, a suggestion that her life will continue the next day. Her words, ‘I bet you thought that I was dead but I’m still here’ contrast with Joyce Carol Vincent’s tragic death. But on Twitter Wilson said, ‘Just like Joyce wrapping Christmas presents on the evening she died, things left unfinished.’  

So what happens next? In contrast with the words in the letter, in her final blog dated 28 February 2015 her last words are, ‘I told them I’m ready, it’s time to leave now.’ Presumably, ‘they’ are the visitors, and she is leaving with them. The photos in the blog show strange lights in the sky, like those from an alien spacecraft. As Wilson said cryptically on Twitter, ‘You can make up your own mind where the character goes.’ 

Wilson’s wordless vocalising at the start is haunting. Although the song is seen entirely from the protagonist’s point of view – it’s her letter – Wilson sings the words rather than using a female vocalist. The song begins with a simple, singer-songwriter feel which matches the thoughtful approach of the letter. Wilson sings like a contemporary folk singer, his voice close-miked and honest, with more wordless vocalising at the end of the vocal section, ‘doo doo doo…’ The song becomes subtly epic, as instruments surround Wilson’s voice, ending with a lovely but relatively subdued guitar solo from Guthrie Govan. The contrast between the relatively epic instrumentation and the raw solo voice continues the feeling of ambiguity; are we witnessing the tragic ending of a human story, or a new beginning? The song ends with an unfinished feel, like the letter itself. 

‘Ascendant Here On…’ (Hand. Cannot. Erase. 2015)

On Twitter, Wilson said ‘Ascendant Here On…’ is an almost anagram of Hand Cannot Erase.’ He’s right – there’s a missing letter ‘A’ but the rest of the letters are all used. It’s strange to end the album with an instrumental, but as Wilson said, ‘It’s a reprise of the theme from Happy Returns arranged for piano and the boy choristers.’ The title of this instrumental seems to refer to the protagonist ascending into another dimension, or it could be a metaphor for a new, happier state (death?) into which she is passing. Cleverly, Wilson doesn’t divide his listeners.

Those who like stories of aliens from space can follow that story, and those who prefer poetic metaphors will also be satisfied. Some may like to enjoy the ambiguity and hold both options in their mind at the same time. 

The Cover of to the Bone (2017)
The Cover of To the Bone (2017)

Nowhere Now (To the Bone, 2017)

The song’s title echoes the Porcupine Tree song Arriving Somewhere But Not Here (Deadwing, 2005). 

We begin the song ‘six feet underground’; humankind has lost its way, so we might as well be dead and buried. On Earth (or under it) we are moving backwards at the speed of sound, wasting our lives, failing to learn. Love no longer has any meaning. This contrasts with the chorus in which the protagonist (a single individual rather than the collective ‘we’ of the verses) floats in space feeling a ‘rush’ of the love that no longer exists on Earth. Looking down at Planet Earth, it now appears ‘luminous’, the same joyous adjective that is used to describe the moon in the song Permanating, which appears later on the album.

Here above the clouds, I am free of all the crowds
And I float above the stars, and I feel the rush of love
Looking down at Earth, it is luminous observed

Ken Grady of Upside Adelaide perceptively suggested to Wilson that there was a possible link between this song and David Bowie’s Space Oddity (1969), which Wilson played live as a tribute to Bowie, who died in January 2016. Wilson reacted initially with slight surprise to Grady’s suggestion, but soon accepted that he was right, as both songs share ‘a sense of someone drifting high above the Earth, and seeing it as a beautiful thing far removed from all the politics and terrorism.’ 

The video was filmed by Lasse Hoile at the Atacama Large Millimeter Array, a collection of over 60 radio telescopes in the Atacama Desert in Chile. Earlier in 2025, Wilson visited the site where the European Southern Observatory is building the ELT (Extremely Large Telescope).

The Cover of The Harmony Codex by Steven Wilson
The Cover of The Harmony Codex (2023)

The Harmony Codex (The Harmony Codex, 2023)

The album is based on Wilson’s short story, The Harmony Codex, which was published in his 2022 book Limited Edition of One. The story describes a visit made by Harmony (a 12-year-old girl) and her brother Jamie (16) to visit their father in the tower block where he works in Whitechapel, East London. They ascend the skyscraper to the 38th floor, but before they can meet their father there’s an explosion. They try to escape the building and get trapped on an apparently endless staircase.  At the end of the story, Jamie is in space, looking back down on the Earth towards London, but also across endless stars and galaxies.

On the album’s title track, Wilson takes Jamie’s thoughts, which are seen from a third-person point of view in the story, and puts them in the first person, spoken on the track by his wife, Rotem,

It seems I’m miles above the surface of the Earth
I can see across the whole of London and beyond
Lights from a thousand cities…
A trillion stars in a billion galaxies

The theme of the enormity of space is picked up again by Rotem’s spoken words at the beginning of the title track of The Overview, which describe the relative sizes of objects in space,

Size beyond one megametre
Ten to the power of six
Ganymede, Callisto
Wolf 359
…’

Them No. 1 (Tape Experiments 1985/1986, 2010)

This begins with an electronic recreation of the sound of a helicopter or an alien spaceship (perhaps referred to by the word ‘Them’ in the title). With its eerie, slow synths, it could be the theme tune to a horror film. It’s given a touch of the avant-garde with ‘random radio transmissions.’ 

Collecting Space (Insurgentes Deluxe Edition, 2008)

A lovely instrumental, featuring koto playing from Michiyo Yagi, who also plays on the title track of Insurgentes, and lively bass-playing from Tony Levin. The melody at about 1:00 is a pre-echo of the opening of the verse melody of Dignity on Porcupine Tree’s 2022 album Closure/Continuation. The guitar solos, probably played on a PRS (Paul Reed Smith) guitar, have a warm, honeyed sound. 

Space Oddity (B side to Happiness III single, 2016)

Like most people of his generation (he was born in 1967), Wilson grew up listening to David Bowie. He first heard Bowie’s music in 1973, when he was given a copy of Bowie’s novelty single The Laughing Gnome. Bowie died on Sunday 10 January 2016, at the age of 69, just after the release of his final album Blackstar. Wilson and the rest of the world woke up the following morning to hear the sad news.

It felt very surreal to wake up this morning into a world that no longer has David Bowie in it. I can’t imagine there is any rock or pop musician on earth that hasn’t been influenced by Bowie, either directly or indirectly, and I’m no exception.

Steven Wilson, 11th January 2016

Bowie wrote several songs on a space theme, including Life on Mars, Starman, Ashes to Ashes, Moonage Daydream and Hallo Spaceboy. As a tribute to Bowie, Steven Wilson performed Space Oddity at the Hammersmith Apollo on 27 January 2016. Wilson was joined on stage by Ninet Tayeb, who duetted with him on the vocals. It’s a simple, heartfelt version of one of the greatest space songs ever. The live recording was released as the B-side of the 7-inch single Happiness III on 14 October 2016.

How Big the Space (Single, 2018)

This song was released as a 12-inch single for Record Store Day on 21 April 2018. In 2017, Wilson told Anil Prasad of Innerviews.org it didn’t fit the To The Bone album because it’s a ‘60s psychedelic-sounding song.’ The lyrics are by Andy Partridge of the English rock band XTC, who also wrote the words for the title track of To The Bone.

Partridge contributed lyrics to Objects Outlive Us on The Overview, which contrast the mundane nature of life here on Earth with what is happening in space, such as,

And there, in an ordinary street
A car isn’t where it would normally be
The driver in tears, ’bout his payment arrears
Still, nobody hears whеn a sun disappears
In a galaxy afar

The lyrics of How Big the Space are a beautifully poetic description of the end of a relationship, superbly contrasting the mundane, ‘I think I’ll change the locks’, with the existential, using a cleverly-worked space metaphor,

How big the space inside an empty heart
How brave the face when orbits pull apart
How black the hole where universes fade
How vast the bed where both of us once laid 

NB not all songs mentioned are availabe on streaming services

Sources

Twitter (now X)
Ken Grady, INTERVIEW: STEVEN WILSON, PROGRESSIVE ROCK’S BIGGEST STAR TALKS ABOUT TRUTH, TOURING AND ‘TO THE BONE’ (Upside Adelaide September 2018)  
Anil Prasad, Perceptions of Reality (Innerviews.org 2017) 

For Part I of Steven Wilson’s Space Songs: The Procupine Tree Years, click here

THRAK (1995) by King Crimson – Album Review

The cover of Thrak by King Crimson

My own response to King Crimson is one of quiet terror 

Robert Fripp (Die Zeit May 1995)

In 2019, I heard that King Crimson had released an album called THRAK in 1995. The title reminded me of another great progressive rock band, the mighty Thotch who recorded their classic song Land of the Crab in 1975.

But Seriously © Phil Collins, despite its opaque title and equally impenetrable cover art this is a great album.

In King Crimson…there was always a call for a sense of a threat of impending doom.

Bill Bruford, Auditory Illusions, BBC Radio 4 2019

The music itself can also be opaque and impenetrable at times, partly because there are two bands playing at the same time. In different time signatures. The two bands are in fact a double trio:

Robert Fripp        

Guitar, Soundscapes, Mellotron 

Trey Gunn 

Stick, Backing Vocals 

Pat Mastelotto 

Acoustic and Electric Percussions 

Adrian Belew 

Guitar, Voice, Words 

Tony Levin 

Basses, Backing Vocals 

Bill Bruford 

Acoustic and Electric Percussions 

But, as Tom Johnson wrote in 2015 it was difficult to sustain for a whole album

In theory, it sounds fascinating, and is a real challenge to the way rock music can be approached. In practice, however, the band, well, didn’t. The only real example of this approach to be found is VROOOM: Pan your speakers left or right and you’ll hear two separate trios playing, you guessed it, slightly different versions of the same song. They merge back together as Coda: Marine 475 begins. As promising as the idea had been, it proved too much to accomplish an entire album that way at the time. 

Tom Johnson Something Else Review

VROOM is the opening track. The first minute is King Crimson in a microcosm, a universe in a grain of sand. It begins with a lovely, nostalgic-sounding theme on Mellotron strings which soon drifts uneasily down in pitch before we are briefly thrown through countless galaxies in Space and the grinding industrial prog-funk-metal of the double trio kicks in.

VROOM segues into Coda Marine 475, which according to Robert Fripp takes its title and spoken words from the Marine 475 Syndicate at Lloyd’s Insurance. Musically, something very interesting is going on. This sounds like an example of an auditory illusion called the Shepard Tone, in which a tone seems continually to ascend or descend in pitch but in fact gets no higher or lower, trapped like a brown paper bag blown by the wind against a rusty gate. The music appears to be constantly descending here; the great Hans Zimmer used the same effect, only with an ascending tone, in his score for Christopher Nolan’s Dunkirk.

YouTube: Vox: The sound illusion that makes Dunkirk so intense

Dinosaur begins with short Mellotron intro, sounding like a Mahler symphony beamed from a distant planet, then dystopian guitars crunch and grind; the same thing happens again after a lovely pastoral interlude at around 3.36. But there is humour in the lyrics, which seem to acknowledge that the once hip young band of the 1960’s have been left behind,

When I look back on the past
It's a wonder I'm not yet extinct...

I'm a dinosaur, somebody is digging my bones  

(The term ‘dinosaur rock’ itself now seems to be largely extinct; a quick image search mostly reveals rocks shaped like dinosaurs…)

Walking on air is a lovely ballad, similar to Matte Kudasai from the 1981 Discipline. Even in the midst of all this Thrakking, King Crimson can surprise us with beauty.

But don’t get too comfortable. We go briefly spinning into the galaxies again before we land at B’boom. It’s a drum solo. For two drummers. What can I tell you? Well, since you asked, it does sound rather like The Flowers of Romance by Public Image.

Gentle reader, I recently re-discovered my hand-written notes about each track on the album. Under the heading ‘THRAK’ I wrote one word:

HELP!

A visceral reaction to a visceral song. It’s time to Unleash the Frogs (well, one frog and seven fridges). You may remember (you won’t, but I’m being polite) that I began my opening Blog in this series, How I learned to listen to King Crimson with a quote from an Amazon review of the album.

A huge compression of grinding guitar riffs and stupefying bass, only upstaged on occasion by drumming that reminds me of the time my pet frog was squashed by seven falling refrigerators.

Paul Ferguson, Amazon Review of Thrak by King Crimson, February 2003 

It’s a compelling image. And the song would make an excellent soundtrack to a dystopian movie, perhaps about a Plague of Frogs (or fridges?)

But now I need to explain how I came across the album THRAK. I admit I hadn’t heard of it until I emailed Bill Bruford about to ask him about auditory illusions in music – particularly rhythmic illusions. He suggested, modestly, that I should listen to a track from this album called Sex Sleep Eat Drink Dream as I might find it interesting. I did. There’s one extraordinary section where the two drummers play in completely different time signatures. Listening to the track on the train when I was on my way to meet Bill I happened to be facing backwards and I became disorientated. It felt as if I was moving backwards and forwards at the same time. I felt as if I were moving in two different, but related dimensions at the same time, like the passenger and the person on the platform in Einstein’s thought experiment about the train being struck by bolts of lightning. This was a musical bolt of lightning, one of those rare moments when the musical landscape is briefly illuminated and its contours reveal themselves. The reason I felt so disorientated was that the two drummers, Bill himself and Pat Mastelotto were playing in two different time signatures at the same time.

Another moment of revelation came when I met Bill himself and he explained the key to King Crimson’s music,

In King Crimson…there was always a call for a sense of a threat of impending doom.

Suddenly, I understood. (Italics added for emphasis and a little bit of pretension). As far as King Crimson were concerned I now had a key to enable me to unlock the doors of perception © A Huxley and Wm Blake. And no Mescaline or sitting naked in my front garden seeing visions of flights of angels had been necessary. Although that would have been nice.

So my journey through King Crimson’s dystopian delights began.

This Blog was originally published five years ago in early 2020. I am publishing it again to mark the 30th anniversary of the release of Thrak on 3 April 1995

Read on…