Steven Wilson & Friends Present a Raven You Mustn't Refuse

Oh the memories you could stoke 'round the crackling fire with Steven Wilson's stunning exercise in well fleshed out ambition "The Raven That Refused To Sing (And Other Stories). Each of the 6 gems on this exhilarating necklace of notes serves a totally self-contained chapter in a thought-provoking opus. "Luminol" is about the most agile sampling of musical fusion cuisine you'll feast on in this still fairly young 2013. Theo Travis's flute flies high, catching any and all tailwinds in his general direction. Not only is Steve a modestly engaging storyteller his bass is a swarthy marvel of technique. Adam Holzman's keyboards are drug addled delectable. As a whole the pacing leaps trapeze like from one instrument fusion to the next. Imagine if you will a small child turning a kaleidoscope and you have a pretty good idea of the shape-shifting at work. Guthrie Govan's lead guitar refuses to be tamed. Marco Minnemann slaps his drums with malevolent aplomb.  "Drive Home", despite the unsettling main plotline of a man having serious trouble coming to terms with his wife dying in a car accident, is approachable due to a gelling persona that one might want to get to know better on a woodsy stroll. Steve's finest lyrical moments come with: "Clear away the jetsam in your brain." He reminds us that we can be imprisoned by loneliness despite the conclusion of a recent dark situation. This brand of contemplation is quietly agonizing but due for an agreeable caress all the same. Big hugs seem inadequate but hearing the protagonist's awkward struggle you want to at least give empathy a try. "The Holy Drinker" is severely eerie. You've entered the parallel dimension of a guy you'd be wise to avoid bumping into in the dead of night. In this case the baddie's a highly pious televangelist who has the audacity to tell others by not loving God they're living their lives wrong even when he himself is caught in the grip of a highly mortal affliction...alcoholism. The sinfully incredible bass licks are brought to us by Nick Beggs who '80s music aficionados might remember from one-hit wonder band Kajagoogoo which reached #5 in Billboard with the keyboard eargasm "Too Shy". Nick hasn't lost a step since those halcyon days. Theo Travis takes his sax off its leash for "Pin Drop". That state of falling many people have experienced in their dream states commands the room. Here's a plunge which isn't so much alarming as it is a focus point of idle curiosity. Unlike in dreams this fall might lead to an appealing alternate playscape. Lamentably the typical content explores convenience male-female couplings where love definitely isn't the answer."The Watchmaker" brings pathos to the center ring buoyed by Adam Holzman whose dignified strokes of piano lend some sensitivity to subject matter such as a watchmaker who never had any clearly defined emotional wellspring to visit throughout he decades of his life. At no point was a violent outburst part of his package. As for the title track it's achingly fragile as you might expect when the content deals with an Edgar Allan Poe bird that the elderly protagonist is hoping is the reincarnation of his long dead sister who has come to whisk him away to the next life. This song is best eased into gracefully much like you'd ease into the bubbles of a hot tub. Don't just plunge in. Allow some time for the cosmic temperature to allay your darkest fears first. I have a great deal of respect for this effort. That's not necessarily because he and his musical entourage of kindred spirits delve into raw topics that aren't all butterflies and teddy bears. It's more to do with how he carries himself with dignity. He drops the right shadings into the mix regardless of which of the varied instruments he's employing to get his point across. Steven the vocalist is merely the humble storyteller. The musical instruments speak far more than he'd ever try to even at his most embattled. "The Raven" sings, trills, bangs, strums, and above all things, connects in a way where you're drawn into this orbit from head to foot. Maybe not an easy sell for mainstream audiences but that's its loss really. The heart beating from this "Raven" barely lets up at all even though the broken characters depicted here often seem like they are dangling from the thinnest of lifelines.