Steve
Wilson and Porcupine Tree are back with Fear of a Blank Planet, a six-song collection of dark, moody songs dealing
with the bleak future of children raised on MTV, X-Boxes and the Internet. The
whole package runs about an hour, exploring murky ambient territory with a
healthy dose of big metal guitars and melancholic vocals, dredging up
atmosphere at every turn. While Wilson is incapable of putting out a weak
album, he unfortunately isn't really breaking any new ground this time out.
Which
isn't to say that the album lacks substance. Compared to most of what's out
there it ranks a very well. Take, for instance, the title track which opens
with an insistent acoustic guitar part that unnervingly picks away at your
sense of ease before a solid rock beat invades. The music itself is quite
invigorating at times, but it's the lyrics that suffer, a usual Wilson reliance
on cliche that is almost embarrassing compared to the intricate music. One
example: "My friend says he wants to die / He's in a band / They sound like
Pearl Jam / The clothes are all black / The music is crap." Not exactly poetry.
Telling the story of a boy struggling to overcome messed-up parents, "My Ashes"
is more tranquil with dripping synths and pulsing tones, raising the lyrical
bar as well with "And my ashes find a way beyond the fog / And return to save
the child that I forgot." "Sentimental" is likewise soothing, almost bringing
hope to the album with a piano backed by a cathartic vocal melody which
realizes "that you can't blame your parents anymore," eventually leading up to
an emotional breakdown that borrows a bit from In Absentia's excellent "Trains."
"Way
Out Here" plays with dynamics, starting with a New Age soundscape compliments
of King Crimson's Robert Fripp before seamlessly building to a psychedelic
metal jam sure to satisfy the black leather-wearin' crowd. The creepy "Sleep
Together" closes the album, incorporating industrial elements from the best of
Nine Inch Nails and orchestral strings that lift the song to a climatic finale.
But the strongest song is the 17-minute "Anesthetize," which opens with a moody
Pink Floyd passage that heats up with growling guitars and echoing keyboards to
a massive syncopated riff that plays with stereo perception, leading up to an
exceptional guitar solo by Rush's Alex Lifeson. The song deftly continues
through many changes and moods, rarely staying on any section long enough for
boredom to grow, fully exploring an alternative realm where thrashing guitars
peacefully coexist with spacey keyboards and lush vocal harmonies.
IÕm
wanting to get excited about Fear of a Blank Planet,
the latest album by Porcupine Tree, but something fails to move me. On the
surface it has all the same characteristics of 2002's In Absentia, a landmark album that hit me hard, showcasing
Wilson's ability to perfectly merge metal, industrial, goth, pop and prog. The
follow-up, Deadwing, was good, but failed to hit the bulls eye. Fear of a Blank Planet is unfortunately even farther off the mark, sharing
more with Porcupine Tree's earlier, more ambient albums. While some may prefer
that style, I personally find it a bit sterile and remote. While the album
deals with disconnected youth, I doubt it's what Wilson had in mind.
But
then again, maybe it's all a matter of having spent too many years on this warm
globe to feel the alienation that is required to fully appreciate Fear of a Blank Planet. (Jason Hoffman)
Originally published in 2007 in WhatzUp.
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