Steven Wilson review – an interstellar sound voyage with Floydian grandeur

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A few feet above Steven Wilson’s head, the universe expands and contracts. His attention, though, is on a bank of equipment, from which he’s attempting to pull sounds that match the interstellar scope of the visuals spread across the gargantuan screen that hangs over him. Across the course of almost three hours, he does so with remarkable regularity.

Steven Wilson at the Bristol Beacon.
Cosmic … Steven Wilson at the Bristol Beacon. Photograph: Hajo Müller

Appearing initially in profile, all in black and ensconced in a keyboard array that makes it look like he’s fallen to Earth in a pod, Wilson’s opening move during his first solo tour in seven years is to play his recent concept record, The Overview, in full. Its two vast songs (one 23 minutes, the other 18) are musings on our cosmic insignificance greeted with rapt attention by an audience relishing his return to prog after a run of works that tested his mettle in art-rock and bubbling electronica.

Part one, Objects Outlive Us, encompasses mundane stills from English life, pristine melodies and Baroness-worthy sludge as Wilson trades snarling leads with guitarist Randy McStine, who also does a neat line in elegiac solos and metallic experiments. The ensuing title track voyages through flickering synthetic beats and Floydian grandeur as the imagery becomes increasingly transportive. “Better than drugs,” Wilson says at its conclusion, amid a standing ovation.

The rest of the evening more obviously resembles a rock show, but Wilson neatly uses musical and thematic threads to tie things in with The Overview. The Harmony Codex, its voiceover describing thousands of cities and trillions of stars, is like ambient cartilage between sets, while King Ghost’s delightful falsetto hook calls back to the early moments of Objects Outlive Us. Opening the encore, Pariah dissolves into time-bending post-rock bliss.

If there’s one issue it’s that the all-seater room naturally prevents there being much of a physical exchange of energy between band and crowd. It’s something Wilson notes, not unkindly, at one point and in reality it does render Harmony Korine’s squalling octaves and Vermillioncore’s thunderous riffs somewhat inert. Fittingly, in the cosmic scheme of things tonight, it barely registers as a complaint.

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