Review by Shawn Perry
Photos by Ron Lyon
In 2017, Steven Wilson released To The Bone, his fifth studio album, and apparently took a step back to see how his snooty following would react. To The Bone is not a typical Steven Wilson record — brooding, foggy and proggy, light and heavy, lyrically infested with high concepts and dark themes. There’s a degree of the familiar…and then there are the departures like “Pariah,” the exotic, Middle-Eastern flavored duet with Israeli singer Ninet Tayeb, and “Permanating,” an upbeat ditty with a disco beat and Wilson’s falsetto on the chorus.
Some of the faithful were exasperated and confused by this sudden turnabout, which lead to the real question on most everyone’s mind: How will it play live?
Well, at least that’s what I was thinking as I wandered into the Wiltern. Unless you were sitting in the balcony or you reserved one of VIP tables behind a red-velvet rope, it was standing-room only. And that’s just the way Wilson wanted it. The idea was to have the audience on their feet and moving. The skeptics and hard-headed dissidents would soon catch on and embrace the diversity of the music.
After the introductory “Truth” short film, which took powerful, single words like “truth,” “lies,” “religion” and others, and attached them to equally powerful images, Wilson and his four-piece band, with little fanfare, segued into action with the title track from To The Bone, setting the tone with a mix of dynamic instrumentation, rhythmic interaction and colorful visuals. “Pariah” followed, mimicking the captivating video right down to the explosion of color miring the virtual Ninet Tayeb.
As expected, much of the setlist comprised songs from To The Bone, with “Refuge,” “Song Of I,” “Detonation,” “People Who Eat Darkness,” “The Same Asylum As Before” and “Song Of Unborn” worked in among four Porcupine Tree songs, “Blackfield” from the album and Wilson side project of the same name, and three from 2015’s Hand. Cannot. Erase. Fans of the first three Wilson solo discs may have been mildly disappointed with only “Postcard” from the 2011 Grammy-nominated Grace For Drowning album included on the setlist.
Moving from guitar to bass to keyboards, Wilson played the ringmaster with diligence and charm. Just before going into “Permanating,” Wilson warned everyone it was “time for disco dancing,” and explained that in addition to “depressing,” conceptual music, he was also weaned on the likes of Abba and Donna Summer. He unapologetically motioned to the door for anyone who objected and proceeded to set the dial to boogie. Most everyone joined in.
Standing near the rear of the floor, I had the advantage of taking in the projected dancers in all their glory, but missing out on the quadraphonic mix that those standing near and in front of the soundboard were treated to. The general admission ticket only got you as close as you were able to get before anyone else got there first. In other words, it all made perfect sense that the most faithful lined up on the Wilshire Blvd. sidewalk hours before show time.
While I was a bit put off to not get a little bit of Wilson’s proggiest effort, The Raven That Refused To Sing (And Other Stories), that certainly didn’t discount the extraordinary musicianship from Wilson and his stellar band — bassist Nick Beggs, keyboardist Adam Holzman, guitarist Alex Hutchings, and drummer Craig Bundell.
As an artist consciously striving to evolve and grow, Wilson suavely aligns his instincts with his audience’s deepest desires. As evidenced by the overall enthusiasm vacillating through the room by the end of the night, it was more than obvious his following are willing to go wherever Steven Wilson takes them.
