Review Summary: The third time proves to be more than just the charm for Porcupine Tree's first album as a full band.
It's always been hard to describe to people what makes a band like Porcupine Tree so appealing. Despite being reasonably accessible (yet undeniably experimental), Porcupine Tree don't really have a specific sound, and being obscure to most people who aren't prog-rock fans certainly doesn't help; but factors like these are simultaneously what makes Steven Wilson's pet project such a thrilling band to get into. From their imagination-porn album covers (like those creepy glowing eyes or that crazy burning piano in the sky) to the word salad titles, to even the soft and laid-back nature of a good majority of the work, Porcupine Tree might not have mass appeal, but it's hard to imagine people not at the very least finding something to like about the band, and while the following statement might seem like much of a gross generalization, it's unfortunately too true- the same thing can't be said about a lot of modern progressive rock. What was formerly something of an event for prog-rock has been taken past the point of logical conclusion- lengthy tracks with tons of technical prowess and crazy amounts of time signature changes- and while this isn't a bad thing (most times), it's always good to have a prog-rock band that's reminiscent of simpler times. As I mentioned in my review of
Storm Corrosion's self-titled LP, PT's music has always had something of a pop-sensibility factor to it, and it's been a part of what makes them one of the most respectable prog bands out there.
So it's without a doubt ironic that, to me at least, their most accessible work is the album that on probably should not be very accessible at all: a 65 minute album bookended by two mega-length songs, with an improvisational 17-minute jam in the middle, and 3 rather poppish songs. But this was necessary, because while Porcupine Tree managed to achieve some level of success and appeal with sophomore album
Up the Downstair, said album was recorded while Porcupine Tree was still a one-man project, and this was the first album with Porcupine Tree now being a full band. It was also the first album of PT's to come out in America (contrary to the popular claim that
In Absentia held that distinction), and so the band had to prove that they weren't just another flash in the pan trying to revive what was seen in its time period as a dead genre. And they undoubtedly succeeded;
The Sky Moves Sideways is 65 minutes of excellent muscianship and musical experimentation that anyone could get into. Arguably, the main draw here is the album's 35-minute titular track (albeit divided into two bookend tracks), but what's in between is just as thrilling to listen to and really explore. With Wilson providing the very few moments of vocals and the barrage of tasty guitar riffs and excellent songwriting, Richard Barbieri delivering the dreamy synthesizer soundscapes and Colin Edwin and Chris Maitland providing the bass and drumwork, there's not a single thing to dislike about the band's indisputable first masterpiece.
The last thing a prog-rock album should be is boring, and there's thankfully not a single boring second on this album. While it (thankfully) lacks the wankery that punctuates much of the genre, it achieves the prog-rock intention of displaying Music as the art form it should be- and perhaps the best display of this is the title track. Split into two tracks (or "phases" as the back of the CD lists them), 6 movements and at 35 minutes long, this song is like candy for the senses. Beginning with a slow fade-in and some dreamy, trippy and even Floyd-esque tones and lyrics for much of the first eight minutes, Wilson and co. create some of the most gorgeous and most atmospheric music to be found in prog-rock, and brilliant lyrics like the beautifully bleak "
We lost the skyline/We stepped right off the map", or "
Sometimes it's only afterwards/I find that I'm not there" certainly help it along. However, eight minutes in is when suddenly, the song shifts into a tribal, psychedelic and rave-type techno beat that is sure to get one tapping their feet. Helped along by a stupidly catchy bassline and some tense buildup thanks to some equally tense guitar and Maitland's powerful percussion, it's this part alone that shows the magic of PT's brand of progressive rock- that there's something for everyone. Thankfully the rest of the track keeps this sense of urgency with its dreamy atmosphere and Barbieri's wife providing some vocalization in the second half. If nothing about
Up the Downstair or even the heavier-influenced post-2002 stuff didn't do the trick as far as getting you hooked on this band goes, this track is the one that'll do it for you.
As far as the other stuff goes, they're just as thrilling. "Dislocated Day" is probably the first hint at the band's more metal-influenced sound they were to take in the future, and it's heavy, catchy, and hell, even downright funky at times. It can even be defined as "Space-metal" and it would make sense- it's sure to get the listener's attention upon first listen and it's hard not to imagine it being a favourite. The rest of the album's short tracks are a lot softer, but also incredibly beautiful. "Stars Die" is an absolutely gorgeous acoustic ballad about the cycle of life, and it's without a doubt one of the finest ballads in PT's tenure. The melancholy feel of the music and beautiful vocal melodies just hammer things home. "The Moon Touches Your Shoulder" is arguably the trippiest of the shorter, more pop-oriented songs, both in its lyrics and musical atmosphere, and it's pure musical poetry in every sense, without a doubt. Ultimately the highlight of the track is the acoustic guitar solo, which adds a nice touch to the song's atmosphere. And special mention must be made for the instrumental improvisation "Moonloop"- at 17 minutes long, this is the closest the album comes to a "typical" prog track, but it never once feels bogged down in wankery at all, nor does it let its length or overly improvised nature become a detriment. While the second half of the song is arguably the better half, the first half establishes some tension through the riffs and the musicianship- it truly must be heard to be believed.
The Sky Moves Sideways is the band's first masterpiece, and arguably one of the finest examples of a band establishing their presence in their genre early into their tenure. While it may not be the best album by Porcupine Tree, it definitely s way up there and is a clear display of just how talented, and maybe even mad Steven Wilson is, and also shows how well he works when given the right musicians. At 65 minutes, never is a single second wasted, and it also serves as a great tarting point for future PT fans and even prog-rock newbies. HIGHLY recommended.
