Steven Wilson - The Raven That Refused to Sing (and Other Stories) (2013)

Steve:

Porcupine Tree went on hiatus following their 2009 album The Incident, on which it seemed that the band were beginning to stagnate. Bandleader Steven Wilson immediately embarked on a solo career, producing albums that were every bit as ambitious and progressive as his former band, if not more so. His second solo album, Grace for Drowning (2011), had been a favorite of mine for that year, featuring a number of personal, intense songs with elaborate arrangements that reflected the strong influence of King Crimson. Small wonder, considering Wilson had spent the prior couple of years collaborating with Robert Fripp on new restorations/remixes of the classic King Crimson catalog. At this time in his life (in his early forties, like I was), Wilson possessed the Midas touch as both sound engineer and musician and had become the modern go-to guy for classic progressive rock.

The excitement level was therefore high when The Raven That Refused to Sing was released. Here was an album that appeared to be Wilson's attempt to give classic prog fans exactly what they wanted: six tracks ranging from 5 to 12 minutes apiece, each deliberately turning the "Prog!!" dials to 11 in a way that fans had not seen from Wilson since the earliest days of Porcupine Tree. The overriding concept is a collection of unrelated stories about doomed and/or haunted individuals. 

To further guarantee the album's lofty pedigree, Wilson brought in Alan Parsons to engineer the album, used Robert Fripp's own Mellotron, and enlisted Dave Stewart (of Hatfield & the North and National Health) to write some string arrangements.  

The blaringly obvious "Prog!!" premise caused a bit of backlash, raising an interesting philosophical question among prog fans. If a master craftsman intentionally produces a piece of art that checks off all the boxes for an ideal prog album (complexity, vintage instruments, superb sonics, musical drama), is it an original piece of art, a knock-off copy, or a cynically pandering pastiche? Opinions seemed to vary.

Personally, I think complaints about the lack of originality are both petty and overthought. By any valid standard, The Raven That Refused to Sing is a stunning musical work. Nothing here sounds like a copy of older works, even if it is often easy to play "spot the influence". And copy or not, the music is deep, expertly recorded and performed, and approachable. It even offers an easy entry point; arguably the most exciting part of the album is at the beginning, in the instrumental introduction to the 12-minute "Luminol", with its awesome lead bass (shades of Yes), energetic tempo, and keyboards, guitar, and drums all going full-throttle. "Luminol"'s main vocal section operates in a quieter realm before returning to some of the introductory themes to close it out.  

Of the remaining tracks, my favorite is "The Watchmaker", which fans were quick to point out begins very much like early Genesis with its calm but ominous acoustic intro (similar to "The Musical Box"). This track also goes over the 10-minute mark, giving it plenty of time to build its tale of the doomed protagonist plagued with guilt about his deceased wife. Once the loud guitar solo comes in, Wilson plays in the same finger-tapping style that Genesis guitarist Steve Hackett was known for. The track ends in an unsettling flurry of rhythm, instruments and voices. The third 10+ minute track, "The Holy Drinker", has some very hot fusion-inspired instrumental bits, with synth work sounding a bit like Chick Corea's Return to Forever. 

Two of the three shorter tracks hover in ballad territory ("Drive Home", "The Raven That Refused to Sing"), offering a bit of grounding in between the longer epics. "The Pin Drop" offers more extreme dynamics, like the longer pieces, but is structured more concisely at just 5 minutes long, sounding more like a late-period Porcupine Tree song.  

In what seems like an attempt to pull together everything Wilson loves about classic progressive rock, The Raven succeeds primarily as superb craftwork, with real feeling and real "sweat" in the playing. It was performed by his actual touring band, not just Wilson overdubbing himself, which he probably could have done had he wanted to. He continues to be a central figure in modern progressive rock, with true passion for the genre as well as an impressive arsenal of skills as a producer, guitarist, songwriter, and bandleader.

Dan:

It's hard to argue against the merits of an album as solid as The Raven That Refused to Sing. It's also hard to ignore the repertory feel of the material; in fact, it should be entertaining for progressive rock cognoscenti (prognoscenti?) to play "spot that influence" or "name that quotation." Jazz has a similar controversy amongst critics who sneer at returns to tradition versus those who appreciate sincere homages. Clearly, musical genres have to look forward and backward at the same time. Otherwise, new music would lose it's connection to the past and listeners would lose their bearings. Albums honoring previous styles can also compensate for previous limitations in recording technology, which obviously is a tribute to Steven Wilson's production skills.

I'll briefly share the influences I spotted quickly on The Raven. 

• The Chris Squire bass lead on "Luminol." An easy one.
• After the boisterous 4 minutes of "Luminol" I hear Crosby, Stills & Nash backed by King Crimson!
• "The Holy Drinker" takes a page from the Mahavishnu Orchestra and features an organist who sounds like either Keith Emerson or Rick Wakeman.

It's rare to find an album that serves as a tribute to an entire genre; most often tributes are to specific musicians or composers. In jazz, tributes to earlier styles often end up as disasters (like numerous feeble tributes to Dixieland), but tributes to luminaries such as Coltrane, Monk, Ellington, and Jelly Roll Morton can be exceptionally good. With The Raven, Wilson has not fallen into the trap of replicating prog's past. Rather, he's drawn from multiple prog resources to assemble a mosaic of original works that celebrate the maturity of the genre.

There is enough content on The Raven to dig into over many auditions, and I'm just getting started.