As far as victory laps go, Steven Wilson's hot-ticket successive sets at the prestigious Royal Albert Hall stand aloft like two giant middle fingers: for the humble bespectacled audio-wizard has enjoyed a fantastic new chapter in a musical career already jam-packed with the kind of accomplishments many musicians would kill for.
After impressing all concerned with 2013's rightly acclaimed The Raven That Refused to Sing, Wilson did it all over again with his latest, Hand.Cannot.Erase. The newer release carries a freshness and immediacy in stark contrast to Raven's lengthy, haunting proggy ghost stories, but not without hidden depths that only appear after the 99th listen.
The first of the two shows feels like an extended Hand.Cannot.Erase. tour concert: Wilson and band glide through the entire album (sans Transcience, sadly, preventing it from being a complete end-to-end run-though), being an extremely well-oiled and rehearsed machine by now. Despite having taken this set to numerous rapturously-received shows throughout the year, they attack the new material with pleasing, spirited zest.
While Hand... is a multifaceted, genre-skipping milestone unto itself on record, hearing it explored live is nothing short of a treat, Wilson and band employing quadraphonic sound to fill the Albert with it.
The material traverses almost all of Wilson's musical palette: the uplifting prog-rock of 3 Years Older, the nimble pop of the album's title-track, the wistful slow climax of Perfect Life, the monstrous riff-labyrinth of Ancestral before finishing with Happy Returns, expertly treading the cheery/sad balance. Three select choices will survive into the second night, squaring off impressively against older cuts: now, however, Wilson's self-belief in his fantastic accomplishment shines through.
With Hand.Cannot.Erase. put to bed, the second set of the first night provides the assembled disciples with a grinning bag of jewels and gems, starting slowly and ominously with the first ever performance of material from Wilson's collaborotion with Opeth's Mikael Akerfeldt. Drag Ropes, a wonderfully spooky and foreboding piece (to call it a track or 'song' would be a misjustice), is laid out across the Hall over the course of approximately seven days.
Its sheer length may have has a slight pulse-weakening effect on some, but the sheer rarity of the event cannot be underestimated, especially when Akerfeldt joins the band on stage to provide vocals and animator Jess Cope's fantastically disturbing video accompanies it on the giant screen.
Wilson next reminds all involved whose name is on the ticket as he leads the bands through their reworking of Index, complete with synchronised statue-posed finger-clicking introduction, a fantastically surreal sight through one of Wilson's brilliantly darkest pieces, with suitably eerie visuals presumably from long-term collaborator Lasse Hoile.
How is Your Life Today? and the invincible Lazarus follow, respectively a not unwelcome oddity and one of Wilson's absolute strongest compositions, rapturously received.
A short speech from Wilson prefaces a particularly tasty showcasing of unreleased HCE material, titled My Book of Regrets. Part proggy length and catchy verse, it is reminiscent of the dreamy sections of Luminol crossed with the singalong 'Tree track Blackest Eyes. It will arrive on an EP in January: begin the countdown.
Harmony Korine, The Watchmaker and Porcupine Tree's Sleep Together follow, the latter two with the expected white sheet hanging before the band, with appropriately disturbing visuals projected onto it for Watchmaker. It is nothing short of spellbinding, a masterfully executed matrimony of sound and sight.
By way of eventual encore, the 'Tree's The Sound of Muzak's sincere lamentations precedes The Raven That Refused To Sing, a perfectly judged conjuration of storytelling and emotional power.
The first night wrapped, all speculation turns towards the second: making sense of what has taken place, however, will take a long time. Wilson and band admirably stepped up to deliver something far more than a simple recital, matching expectations by putting on a spectacular event.
Night 2:
With the first evening being an extended Hand.Cannot.Erase. tour show, the second is a rarities free-for-all. The band members consecutively take the stage to contribute to a steadily growing No Twilight Within the Courts of the Sun. Wilson is the last to take the stage, to deserved cheers, leading it to its fantastically intense conclusion.
Fully assembled, the team tackle the first of several Porcupine Tree gems in the maudlin Shesmovedon, before returning to newer material in Routine. Guest vocals from Israeli singer Ninet Tayeb have been conspicuously absent from renditions of the song due to Tayeb's own inability to attend tour dates. For both of these nights, however, she is present to fill the Hall with the full force of her impressive larynx. Animator Jess Cope's heartbreaking stop-motion video accomapnies it as expected, and suddenly there is a demand for Wilson-themed handkerchiefs at the merchandise stand.
A prog-rock stand-off ensues between Wilson's solo material versus more 'Tree tracks, to satiating results. "The only way to follow that is with some dumb heavy metal", quips Wilson in the aftermath of the emotional onslaught of Routine's unholy trinity of itself, Ninet's presence and Cope's aforementioned video. The 'metal' he speaks of comes in the form of Porcupine Tree's Open Car, with its itchy verses, gloriously epic chorus and the best guitar riff Matt Bellamy or Tom Morello never wrote.
Don't Hate Me follows, before the two-part prog workout of Wilson's Home Invasion and Regret#9 - the former being a hydra-headed piece of volatile riffery, dreamy chorus and alt-rock swagger, the latter a truly fantastic showcase for the remarkable skills of keyboardist Adam Holzman and guitarist Guthrie Govan, who returns to the lineup tonight as a welcome guest, his recent absences ably covered by the superb Dave Kilminster (including these two nights). Govan and the band then revisit Wilson's wondrously fragile Drive Home, featuring Govan's jaw-dropping emotion-wringing extended solo.
Also re-joining for Drive Home is the humbly talented Theo Travis, providing woodwind instrumentation for a jog through more of Wilson's solo material: the crushing Sectarian, the dreamlike Insurgentes, No Part of Me, and finally a tastefully trimmed airing of sinister prog-demon Raider II.
The first of two encores is a fascinating exploration of the first of three Porcupine Tree songs, the lengthy Dark Matter. Celebrated 'Tree sticksman Gavin Harrison receives some of the biggest cheers of the night, joining the band for a one-two of Lazarus and The Sound of Muzak.
For Steven Wilson, victory was secured long ago. With performances like this, he is reaching for something greater: immortality.
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