I attempted to review this, but disliked what I wrote. So instead I have copied the description in the liner notes which I think says it best.
If mainstream rock and pop seems just a little too trite, predictable and manufactured for you, maybe you'd prefer something that demands (and rewards) your fullest attention. Welcome to the haunted universe of No-Man.
They've been around since 1987 when singer and wordsmith Tim Bowness came together with multi-instrumentalist and producer Steven Wilson, best-known as a member of the modern prog-rock combo Porcupine Tree. This duo has spent the succeeding couple of decades writing and recording some of the most spine-chillingly gorgeous music imaginable.
There are moments on this CD when a sensitive soul might just break down and cry. In 'Back When You Were Beautiful', for example, Bowness sings the tragic lyric with such angelic beauty that it's hard to imagine how the song could become any more heartbreaking than it is in the opening verse. Then in comes a swelling synth chord that melts into a choral backing that ups the emotional level by several notches and, as if that's not enough, a slowly plucked banjo enters the mix and you start to wonder... how can a banjo sound so sad? Wilson's decision to introduce a banjo, usually such a vibrantly cheerful instrument, at that point in the song might seem insane to most songwriters, but it's absolutely the right instrument - maybe it's the same effect as seeing a clown cry.
It's odd to realise that what Bowness tends to deal with in his lyrics is essentially the same universal stuff as Robbie Williams or the dreaded Barry Manilow deals with - human relationships and lost loves. The difference comes in how Bowness does it. For
most popular singers, simply stating that love has been lost and it hurts is enough, but Bowness gets under the skin and says the things that we all think but rarely say. When he sings of "the hollow thump of life that has no taste" or of "spending days on the phone while the cold eats your bones", you know how badly he's been hurt by love, and you recognise that his pain isn't any different from yours - he's just better at admitting it and expressing it.
Of course, it isn't just Bowness's words and voice that make No-Man's music so affecting. He's only one half of the equation. Steven Wilson's multi-instrumental contributions and his brilliant production skills add so much that most of the tracks could be released as instrumentals and they'd still be profoundly moving. No-Man's choice of contributing musicians also adds a great deal to the mix. Without Ben Castle's lovely clarinet solo and Roger Eno's harmonium in 'Photographs In Black And White', Michael Bearpark's anguished, howling guitar solo in the title track, or David Picking's spooky trumpet lines in 'All The Blue Changes', the impact of those songs would be significantly diminished. (And yet, without them, we'd never know, would we?)
In all fairness, I should point out that this is not an album for the faint-hearted. If you like your music cheery and uptempo, and don't want it getting deep down inside you and ripping your heart to shreds, steer well clear of No-Man. If, however, you want to turn out the lights and be taken on ethereal musical voyages along the hidden pathways of your own inner space, this is definitely for you,
Johnny Black (Mojo/Q/backonthetracks.com)
I've listened to this five times through and something keeps drawing me back. I agree with stormchaser's take of; "sit-in-the-dark, drink a glass of wine by candlelight, and take in the music kind of album." That says it well! If you are even remotely a fan of Steven Wilson this is not to be missed. However it is not something you will want to listen to everyday. You need to be in the mood. My gut says to give it a 7.5 but I'm rounding it up to an 8 just for the 48/24 multichannel experience that it is.
Dennis