Paths Of Glory – Reviewed here.

The Sea Inside – Excellent, humanising the difficult issue of euthanasia.

Psycho – The 1960 original, obviously, not the bizarrely pointless 1999 remake. Nowadays it's obviously impossible to watch this without preknowledge of the central event, but I rather wish I could have done. I hadn't realised that the film begins with an entirely different plot; the events at the motel must have been genuinely surprising to the 1960 audience.

Vertigo – Very impressive writing and execution, if a little disturbing in places.

Manhattan – I'd always thought Woody Allen's screen persona was something of a caricature, but at one point I had to stop the DVD and watch the scene three times. The man can act. More generally, the film dragged, and I kept glancing at the clock, but it's stayed with me, and would reward a second viewing.

La Belle Noiseuse – Very slow (a four-hour character study) and a little depressing, but if you are inclined to brave it, be aware that the film is spread over two DVDs – rent both!

Death In Venice – I rented this simply because I had a holiday in Venice booked, and I wanted a little background viewing. Ugh. Stultifying. The content was rather good, but could have been conveyed just as effectively in half, even a third, of the time. Much might be made of the sumptuous costumes & settings and overall lush visuals, but Visconti's direction lingered on these elements for far, far too long. And Venice itself was barely shown – most of the film takes place in the Lido.

The Piano Teacher – As soon became apparent, this was another film by Michael Haneke, director of 'Caché' ('Hidden') – the visual and narrative styles were very similar, and similarly the audience was expected to work hard to interpret the characters and even key plot details. I hadn't realised any of this when I rented the DVD; I'd heard of 'La Pianiste' as an examination of power-transfer and psychological domination in relationships, though I'd better stress that it couldn't be further from vacuous bdsm p*rn! There were a couple of graphic, frankly grotesque, moments, but they were the exception in an otherwise extremely internalised, thought-provoking film.

The Insider – Very good. This is what I'd hoped for and expected from 'All the President's Men': a dramatisation of specific events, but with wider applicability to general themes of moral integrity. Well-told, too.

La Dolce Vita – Maybe I was in the wrong mood, but I couldn't get past the perception of this supposed classic as a sequence of barely-linked set pieces; it totally failed to hold my attention, and I gave up after about an hour. I rather regret that now.

Love And Human Remains – Certain people will understand why I rented this, but it's not great: moderately interesting characters and a certain darkness elevate it from the mere farce it superficially seems to be, but not far.

Wings Of Desire – The Anglicised title's awful; a direct translation of 'Der Himmel über Berlin' as 'The Skies (or Heavens) over Berlin' is far more apt. It would be accurate to say it's about an angel, one of many dispassionately watching humanity, who wishes to experience rather than merely observe. However, that summary doesn't adequately describe a film which itself needs to be experienced. Incidentally, apart from the central concept, it's entirely dissimilar to the US 'remake', 'City of Angels' – direct comparison flatters neither film.

All About Eve – Far better than I'd expected: my expectations, that it was a light, frothy film, were entirely incorrect. Recommended.

The Thirteenth Floor – Reviewed here.

Fanny And Alexander – I hadn't expected a TV mini-series filling two DVDs, and may have missed some of the subtilties of 19th Century Swedish society, but extended insight into characters and family life transcended the specific setting, and was very compelling.

Chinatown – I wasn't entirely sure about this initially, as I haven't liked some of Roman Polanski's films and think Jack Nicholson has been dangerously close to self-parody at several points in his career. However, those preconceptions were misplaced here, and I enjoyed this noir-ish film. I particularly appreciated the nature of the ending, though I can't state why, obviously.

Ran – Visually stunning, not only for the famous burning castle but also for the general cinematography and stylised structure; it was like watching a very mannered stage play or succession of narrated paintings. However, my overwhelming impression was that the middle of film was drastically too long; I thought it had to be drawing to a close after about 1hr40' of the 2½-hour film.
Incidentally, this is sold/offered for rental on two discs, but it's safe to rent just the first if one only wants to see the film.

Saw II – The original was an excellent, self-contained film, but this seemed to be a classic 'we-didn't-think-we'd-need-to-write-a' sequel lacking the tight focus and strong, rules-based internal logic which had sustained the first film. The acting, or perhaps characterisation, was clichéd and the plot was weak until the very end, when it suddenly did match the earlier standard. It's almost as if that was written first and everything else was filler leading to the twist.

On The Waterfront – Excellent, particularly the electrifying and justifiably famous 'contender' scene. Afterwards I found it interesting to read about the context in which the film was made; it would probably be possible to do that research beforehand without ruining the story, and hence perhaps gain greater appreciation whilst watching.

Battlestar Galactica: Season 2 – The 13-episode series (very good, though not as good as the first series) was provided on five discs of the 6-DVD set; in hindsight I could have omitted the sixth, which merely contained justifiably deleted scenes.

Eros – Three short films on the theme of erotic love by three prominent directors. The first, by Wong Kar Wai, was as good as I expected and very much in the style of 'In The Mood For Love' and '2046'. The second, by Steven Soderbergh, was a noirish tale which didn't really grab me. The third, by Michelangelo Antonioni, was merely embarrassing: an old man's self-indulgence.

Dekalog – I had problems renting part of this 4-DVD set and enjoyed one of the ten films, so decided to buy my own copy. Which I haven't got round to watching yet....

Sympathy For Mr Vengeance – Heart-rending: the first of Park Chan-wook's 'Sympathy' trilogy certainly inspires sympathy for pretty much every reluctant participant in the novel, convoluted sequence of events.

Casanova – This TV mini-series featured attractive costumes. Unfortunately, I can't think of much else in its favour, and it certainly didn't earn three full hours of my attention.

X-Men 3: The Last Stand – Yawn. A sequel too far. Plenty of shouting and explosions, and as forgettable as that implies.

The Incredibles – Pretty good story and interesting technically.

Volver – Few other directors could elevate this story from farce, but Almodovar managed to provide a touching insight into the lives of four (no, five) women.

Killing Me Softly – I'm not entirely sure why I rented this.

The Bridge On The River Kwai – Very good, particularly showcasing Alec Guinness's acting. I hadn't realised that his was a supporting character, so was slightly disappointed by the focus on the American escapee/saboteur, particularly the slightly comedic subplots, but that's a very minor criticism.

As Tears Go By – An entertaining example of Wong Kar Wai's earlier writing & direction. Recommended.

The Manchurian Candidate – For once, I can't decide whether I prefer this, the 1962 Frank Sinatra original, or the 2004 Denzel Washington remake. Both are good.

Days Of Being Wild – What could be better than existentialism and compelling characters, performed well, in an excellent production with excellent direction (from Wong Kar Wai)? It's not quite so 'heavy' or pretentious as that suggests; the pace is... contemplative and the interlinked plots initially obscure, but I did enjoy it, and once one spots the narrative structure, the artistry is clear.

All Quiet On The Western Front – It took me a while to become accustomed to the dated, very American colloquial manner of the characters (which would presumably have been naturalistic to the 1930 audience, adding impact) and the plot development seemed very obvious, even heavy-handed, by modern standards but for all that, the quality and message were no less poignant.

Smokin' Aces – Initially, this looked like an Americanised cash-in on Guy Ritchie's 'Lock, Stock...' subgenre, but it failed in every respect – a bit of a mess.

Million Dollar Baby – I rented this expecting a retelling of the 'Rocky' story with overlaid gender issues, and wondering why that'd have attracted such critical acclaim. I was totally mistaken: this wasn't what it seemed, and the twist was genuinely affecting. Excellent.

Seven Samurai – It's a credit to the storytelling (visual, too) that this rather long film didn't feel long. I haven't been able to say that for many Kurosawa films.

The Crow - Salvation – 'Rent, don't buy' might seem to be faint praise, but if you liked the original film, give this, the third, a chance. It's not not great art (so what?) and not radical progression of the concept, but it's a huge improvement on the second film.

Babel – Stunning: the interlinked (and intercut) stories of four families in as many countries and languages were fascinating, leaving me eager to see Alejandro González Iñárritu's other films.
Great music, too – I added the soundtrack album to my Amazon wishlist immediately.

Metropolis – I'd expected this to be hard work, more of an education into the history of film than real entertainment. Wrong! The image quality was also far better than I'd expected, being the result of a painstaking renovation project, itself explained on the 'bonus' DVD.

Casino Royale – My observation about the opening credits applied to the rest of the film: many of the standard elements of Bond films from past decades, particularly the casual sexism and OTT gadgets/locations were toned down in this 'back to basics' return to the original Bond story, yet it was markedly more physically violent. It was still very much a Bond film, though, occupying an affluent world bordering on decadence, and product placements similarly bordering on laughable. Attempts were made to develop the James Bond character, but mainly through exposition – a better screenplay would have shown, not told. Perhaps that was expecting too much; on a shallower level, I did enjoy the film, though the parkour sequence towards the start was the highlight.

Great Expectations – Very pretty (and very green), with an excellent cast and soundtrack, but I'm not sure whether this loose translation of Dickens' classic story to modern Florida and Manhattan really captured the full emotion of the novel; I enjoyed it, but somehow wanted slightly more. I suppose if it drives a viewer back to the book, that's a good thing.

The Passenger – A journalist, bored with his life, swaps identities with the dead man in the hotel room next door, who happens to have been an arms dealer. The beginning of a Hollywood thiller? Directed by Michelangelo Antonioni, no. Very contemplative and internalised (and hence slow-paced), but also rather beautiful. It was also good to see Spain (particularly the parts of Barcelona I've visited) in 1973, before mass-tourism.

State Of Play (2 discs) – This political detective thriller was entertaining and fully held my attention through the six hour-long episodes. It was certainly a case of excellent storytelling, acting and production, as in hindsight the story itself wasn't that memorable.

City of Industry – According to the DVD extras and the IMDb, this shows a 'real' – mundane – Los Angeles rarely seen in films. As such, perhaps the hackneyed 'heist-betrayal-revenge' plot was merely a carrying medium. That, and the fact that I've never had a fascination with a city I perceive as soulless and lacking in history, meant I abandoned the film after an hour, bored and slightly irritated.

The Black Dahlia – It was good to see a modern interpretation of the classic noir production style (over-elaborate plot and all), but it felt a little self-conscious, and having not heard of "the most notorious murder in Hollywood history" before renting the DVD, it had no especial cultural resonance for me. Ultimately, sumptuousness and a mass of detail were no substitute for real substance: I wanted more.

Neverwhere – The complete BBC series on one DVD, with a couple of... 'okay' extras. I'm more than a little familiar with the story and production history (cut-price TV series then excellent novel, with a graphic novel adaptation later) and knew this was the weakest version, but it was still worth seeing; dodgy acting, wobbly sets, bull-with-prostheses (really) and all.

Cronos – Slightly disappointing, this felt more like an episode of a TV series than a substantive feature film. One for Guillermo del Toro fans; those interested in the point from which his international career developed.

Fellini's 8½ – Whilst watching, I thought this was very shallow, even trite, but it left me thinking, which can't be bad. I'm not certain I fully understood it, though.

8½ Women – I suppose it helped that I watched the Peter Greenaway film immediately after the Fellini film which supposedly inspired it, but I still couldn't quite grasp the entertainment or artistic value of what seemed to be a feeble comedy. That said, there were a few interesting concepts and powerful moments; Polly Walker's acting was particularly admirable.

Fur - An Imaginary Portrait of Diane Arbus – I'm not sure what I was expecting, but this wasn't it. I suppose it was entertaining enough, but I wouldn't rush to see it again, nor particularly recommend it to others.

The Fountain – Excellent sci-fi/fantasy from the director of 'Pi' and 'Requiem For A Dream' – if you've seen those, you'll be anticipating original writing and presentation, and won't be disappointed. The overall message was particularly disturbing. Recommended.

The Prestige – A dark film which demands a second viewing. Not because it's remotely difficult to follow – it's an extremely accessible Hollywood film – but because once one has spotted the twists (or seen the end of the film, which clarifies them), watching it again one sees an entirely different film. For this reason, I strongly recommend seeing it before reading any review containing a hint of a synopsis.

The Libertine – Visually evocative of late 17th Century England, with lots of mud, naturalistic lighting (filmed by candlelight/daylight) and of-its-time makeup/clothing, this was far less sanitised than the average BBC costume drama (which is a reason I find the BBC's efforts unwatchable). However, I'm not sure whether the plot, direction or acting matched that standard of production....

Hotel Rwanda – I'd been expecting something Americanised (sanitised and with a certain socio-political stance) or deeply worthy, and in hindsight the former criticism does rather apply, but it did offer at least some insight into a monstrous situation which should have received greater attention at the time (and I certainly don't exclude myself from the complacent ignorance).

300 – Technically and visually stunning. One could criticise the hyper-macho story (totally plot-led and with two-dimensional characters) as too like a comic strip, but that's kind of the point.

La Haine – Excellent. Very tightly focussed on a brief episode in the lives of three youths from a Parisian sink estate, this covered topics of importance to the characters in a way the characters themselves would appreciate (i.e. it's a very male film: visually-impressive with limited externalised emotion). This made for a powerful, rather immersive experience.

The Departed – Reviewed here.

This is the bit where I say "actually, it was pretty good", right?

And it was. Because the original was pretty good. The American version had a big-name director, but that didn't disguise the fact that it was the same film, merely moved from Hong Kong to Boston and reduced to a showcase for big-name Hollywood stars (who, frankly, merely provided their standard, well-established performances). Well, with the graphic violence turned up a notch, and the ending totally ruined by 'closure'.
I think its carbon-copy nature is my main problem with 'The Departed': it doesn't complement 'Infernal Affairs', it replaces it; if you've seen one, there's little reason to see the other. No doubt most people (outside Hong Kong/China) will choose the Martin Scorsese movie starring Leonardo DiCaprio, Matt Damon, Jack Nicholson, et al. over the Wai-keung Lau/Siu Fai Mak film starring Andy Lau and Tony Leung, thereby burying the latter (deservedly in the IMDb Top 250, 'Infernal Affairs' is currently 193 places below 'The Departed'). And that's a great shame: money will take precedence over originality.

This is the bit where I hope to fight back a little. Watch 'Infernal Affairs'. Avoid the rip-off. Not 'only' as a matter of respect to the original film-makers, but because theirs is the better-realised setting, offering greater insight into the characters' inner turmoil (with no simplistic resolution) – and two good sequels.

Album of the Year

Porcupine Tree - Fear of a Blank Planet
[Reviewed here]
This wasn't in much doubt – if only in subjective terms of my own preferences, this was well ahead of anything else released this year: the first Porcupine Tree release since 1999 that I've liked completely, from start to finish, with multiple highlights. This would rank highly on a hypothetical list of my all-time favourite albums, too.

Highlights

Continuum - Continuum II
[Reviewed here]
I wasn't sure about an electric guitar accompanying full-on, extended dark-ambient pieces, but when I'm in the right mood, this grabs my total attention. Transcendental!

Fovea Hex - Neither Speak Nor Remain Silent
I have to confess I was drawn to 'Allure', the third of this 3-EP project, by the participation of Steven Wilson, but I couldn't distinguish his contribution and there was nothing 'fanboy' about my being blown-away by the music itself: a wonderful combination of haunting, vaguely Celtic folk and stark dark-ambient music. The other two EPs didn't quite meet the expectations set by 'Allure', but the overall result is still one of the best albums I've heard for quite a while.

Porcupine Tree - Nil Recurring
[Reviewed here]
Not, as some people have said in year-end reviews, 'FoaBP/NR' – that's just plain incorrect, as 'Nil Recurring' is an entirely separate release featuring material which happened to originate at the same time as, if not slightly before, 'Fear of a Blank Planet'. It is not b-sides/outtakes from 'FoaBP'.
Anyway, I like it a lot, though it's not as consistent as 'FoaBP'.

Explosions In The Sky - All Of A Sudden I Miss Everyone
I said two years ago that I like this guitar-led, instrumental-only, post-rock. The new album isn't hugely different to its two predecessors (though stronger than the reissued debut album – if you're new to the band, don't start there!), but I liked them, so that's hardly a problem, and it's not really just 'more of the same'.

Sigur Rós - Hvarf-Heim
I think the band have called this a stopgap between 'real' albums or an offshoot of the 'Heima' tour & DVD project. I'd agree with that assessment: some of the live and revised arrangements of existing material are truly wonderful and the new material compares well with that on past albums, but I can't deny having hoped for genuine progression of the Sigur Rós sound.

The Reasoning - Awakening
An excellent reminder for me to keep my mind open: had I known before hearing the music 'blind' that The Reasoning are a new band featuring ex-members of 'neo-prog' acts Karnataka and Magenta, I wouldn't have expected the freshness and maturity of their debut album. The title track hooked me immediately, and repeated listening continues to unearth excellent details in the whole album.

Gazpacho - Night
My appreciation of this new discovery is developing daily, particularly as I become more accustomed to Jan Henrik Ohme's voice (I wasn't too sure about it at first). One could note a similarity to contemporary Marillion, but it's not too close and this is immeasurably better than the 'parent' band's 2007 release.

Expectedly Mediocre

Blackfield - Blackfield 2
[Reviewed here]
Like the debut album, I thought this was pretty good for a few weeks, but rapidly tired of it. I doubt I'd bother buying a third.

Riverside - Rapid Eye Movement
I was disappointed by Riverside's second album, as it lacked the novelty and energy of the first (my 'album of the year' acquired in 2005, though it was released in 2003). Hence, my expectations of this, the third, were more realistic: I didn't expect much, and was neither impressed nor disappointed.

Disappointments

Fish - 13th Star
[Reviewed here]
I tried to convince myself that I liked this, and I do think it works well when played as one continuous composition, in sequence, but occasional plays over several months have led to the conclusion that it's far from Fish's best.
In fact, I recently made an uncomfortable realisation. As I've mentioned, I've been listening to Frans Keylard's 'prog'-orientated podcasts for a couple of weeks in a conscious effort to widen my knowledge and discover new music. Apart from certain highlights (some on this list), the experience has reinforced both my prejudices about the stale 'prog'/'neo-prog' genre and my perception that there are 'top' bands exhibiting originality and musicianship, and 'also-ran' bands merely emulating what's gone before, somehow lacking the undefinable 'spark' of creativity that'd elevate them to the premier league of headline acts.
And '13th Star' very firmly fits amongst them.

Radiohead - In Rainbows
[Reviewed here]
I only have a slight interest in Radiohead anyway, and only like a few post 'OK Computer' songs, so I didn't expect to love the new album. It didn't meet even that expectation, and I only listened to it a couple of times.

Marillion - Somewhere Else
[Reviewed here]
This bored me in April, and I don't recall feeling the remotest urge to play it since then. Best, and easily, forgotten.

Too Soon To Decide

Pineapple Thief - What We Have Sown
I only received my copy a few days ago, and haven't even heard it once from start to finish, so I better hadn't comment, beyond saying it seems much more promising than '12SD'/'10SD' (haven't heard 'Little Man' yet; that arrived with 'WWHS'). There are another six days until the end of 2007, so if I get an opportunity to give the album my full attention (possible but unlikely), I might post an update.

I seem to have missed the pre-arranged meet-up of PTF members; I knew some planned to be at the designated pub from 15:00, but I wrongly presumed they'd still be in residence when I arrived at 18:00.
Not to worry; I was soon adopted by a friendly couple apparently on the basis that they and I looked "suitably biker-gothy" without having resorted to such kiddie-metal stereotypes as faux-leather trenchcoats. Porcupine Tree audiences are getting younger. Pleasant couple, and that's not a reference to a laced-front leather bodice which was more laced than bodice, and which seems to have driven out much recollection of our conversation. Ahem. I do remember they weren't going to the concert, so I left them there at ~19:20 and crossed the road to the venue – accompanied by Richard Barbieri, Colin Edwin & Gavin Harrison, returning with a takeaway. Good start.

As I'd known in advance, remodeling work in the main Academy venue (Academy 1), which was the reason Porcupine Tree performed in Preston instead in April, is still ongoing. The hall itself was usable, obviously, but access was through a fire exit and the toilets were in a portakabin outside. Fine with me, but I think the lack of a cloakroom caused problems for some people.

Once inside, there was absolutely no hope of meeting anyone, as the hall was in near-total darkness, illuminated only by a couple of blue spotlights on stage plus the lights of the bar and merchandise stall, both obscured by the small but rapidly growing crowd. I'd already bought a tour T-shirt (er, three different ones, actually) by mail order from Burning Shed, so didn't need to investigate the stall myself, so I wandered around the room a little (which seemed unchanged; presumably remodelling has been confined to the backstage and foyer areas, the latter still boarded-off at the rear of the hall) then just as I decided to find a spot to stand, at 19:45, Anathema's Vincent Cavanagh was suddenly already on stage. I didn't get as far forward as I could – large gaps remained in the thinly-packed crowd – but it seemed rude to push past and obscure the view of shorter people at the very last moment.

Within a few moments of starting, Danny Cavanagh (lead guitar) was exhorting the audience to clap along, which would have been a bit of a mistake even if this hadn't been a typical Porcupine Tree audience, seemingly unresponsive yet fully attentive: they (we) hadn't yet warmed-up sufficiently that we wished to participate. Unfortunately, that established the relationship for the entire set. I hope the band understood their audience; Vincent didn't seem impressed and his statement that they'll be back next year "as headliner" seemed to have an edge.

It was a well-chosen 45-min set, showcasing the high-energy rock and 'menacing' intensity I particularly like in their music, yet with space for some of the gentler, melancholic material I, er, appreciate less.

Fragile Dreams is amongst my favourite Anathema songs, so was an excellent start.

A Simple Mistake is one of the three songs released via the band's website as a preview of the next album. I hadn't been overwhelmed by that studio arrangement, but it worked much better live, particularly the powerful second half.

'Closer' was the song which introduced me to Anathema, so it was particularly good to hear it the first (and certainly not last) time I've seen them live.

Without wishing to criticise, Lee Douglas's voice (or more generally, female voices like hers) isn't to my taste, and nor are the slower-paced Anathema songs on which she sings, so I wasn't overjoyed that she joined the band on stage for 'A Natural Disaster', a song which I've just noticed I hadn't even bothered to upload to my iPod. Played at concert volume, I was wincing by the end.
She stayed to sing backing vocals on 'Angels Walk Among Us', which was preferable, but I wasn't pleased when Vincent thanked her by saying she'll take a greater role in the next album.

Somehow I didn't realise until later that Deep had been played; it segued straight from the unfamiliar (to me) 'A Natural Disaster', so perhaps I confused it for part of the same song. No, I don't know how, either.

Flying is another that I hadn't particularly appreciated on the 'A Natural Disaster' album (my least-favourite of Anathema's post- doom-metal releases), but it worked well live.

An as-yet-unreleased track, Hindsight closed the set. I think it was fully-instrumental apart from a vocal sample from what sounded like an American self-motivation album, which somewhat detracted, in my opinion.

Both in terms of music and live production, it was clear that under normal circumstances (i.e. with the backing of a record label) Anathema are a headline act. After their set, it took a full 15 minutes to clear the stage of their monitors and equipment (seemingly assisted by Jamie (third Cavanagh brother and bass player) – not so typical of a headliner!) and they made good use of the lights (if with a little too much dry ice – Les Smith (keys) and Mick (drums) were almost invisible at times). For a support band, the sound was extraordinarily good, though not in the same league of clarity as Porcupine Tree. It was particularly noticeable that Anathema's richly-textured music came across well, in extreme contrast to Amplifier's muddy sound in April.

Some Porcupine Tree fans encountering Anathema for the first time have commented negatively about Vincent's 'out of tune' vocals and John Douglas' 'imprecise' drumming.
Firstly, Vincent's diction (not just accent) is strongly Liverpudlian, more so than, say, The Beatles, and the melancholic nature of the music demands a certain delivery which I think he fulfills well. If you want a polished, formally-trained crooner, you have the wrong band.
Secondly, there's more to musicianship than empty virtuosity, and I've never noticed a problem with John's drumming, whether on studio albums or live recordings. I couldn't judge for myself this time, as John had become a father earlier in the day, so the band was accompanied by Mick, a stand-in who certainly seemed familiar with the material.

As soon as Anathema left the stage, some people headed for the bar, but otherwise there was a general shuffling forward, eliminating gaps and dodging around those slow to join in. I ended up at least 10 m further forward, 6-8 m from the stage, dead-centre, with only one taller person in front to my left. Perfect; I had a great view throughout the main set, though Wes was slightly obscured. There wasn't much room to move, so it's lucky that those (very closely) around me weren't inclined to, and the half-hour wait before the main set, in a London Underground-like crush, was rendered bearable by watching the bands' techs clear and reset the stage.

Porcupine Tree's stage setup was identical to that in Preston eight months ago, contributing an odd familiarity. In fact, that was my overall impression of the concert: truly wonderful, and I enjoyed myself tremendously, but somehow it lacked the novelty and extra thrill I'd experienced in April merely from being in the presence of the band. That's not necessarily a disadvantage, as I was able to focus more on their performance and the music.

There were a few videos and lighting effects projected behind the band, but as usual I consciously ignored them (I attend concerts to see the band perform for real, live, in front of me, not to watch something prerecorded) so can't really comment on their content. I did get a dim impression that there were fewer Lasse Hoile videos than on previous tours; perhaps 5 of the 15 songs (indicated with asterices below), as opposed to 8 of 16 last time. The remaining songs were accompanied by more abstract, less attention-drawing lighting effects.

I'm pleased to say the audience (at least those in earshot and in my line of sight) were particularly still and attentive – some would wrongly say 'unresponsive', but there was plenty of appreciation at the appropriate times: between songs. I was aware of people around me taking the opportunities of quiet sections to exchange comments, but no-one near me was shouting or jumping around.

From my position 8-10 m from Steven Wilson (SW), the sound was excellent, with clear stereo effects and good balance on both quieter and 'full-on' material; perhaps the guitar separation wasn't perfect, meaning a few subtleties were only apparent because I was listening for them. However, as explained below, I moved to the extreme rear left corner of the hall during 'Trains' and noticed a general deterioration in sound quality (hardly surprising) and a distracting effect off the temporary back wall, which mightn't have optimum acoustics. As in April, the sound was loud but 'clean', and as I was walking back to the station my hearing was about as clear as when I'd entered the Academy, which makes a tremendous difference to one's appreciation of the music.

The basic logistics of SW being unable to switch guitars quickly enough and having too much to do in complex arrangements of (in April) fairly new material rather dictated the relative roles he and John Wesley played on the last tour: on several songs Wes played lead guitar and the electric solos whilst SW played the acoustic or rhythm guitar parts. Another reason was apparently that Wes improvises solos in his own style rather than following the album arrangements closely, adding novelty to live performances. I can certainly respect that reasoning, but I don't actually like it. I do appreciate Wes' playing on his own albums, but given a direct choice, I prefer SW's sound, and in general I dislike improvisation. Hence, I was very pleased that SW and Wes switched back this time, Wes returning to a more supporting role and SW taking more of the solos himself. I was only jarred out of my rapture twice by Wes solos which I didn't think quite worked.

The set featured fifteen songs and no instrumentals, though several of the chosen songs include extended instrumental sections. Six songs were from 2007, three each from 2002 & '05, and one each from 1995, '96 & '99. That's the balance I expect at Porcupine Tree concerts, emphasising the 2002-2007 albums with a few token representatives of the earlier back-catalogue. I was interested to hear that the band varied the setlist rather a lot on this tour; six songs were replaced for the following night's concert in Leeds.

There was no distinct intro track this time: the band walked on stage to the accompaniment of a few seconds from Lasse Hoile's 'Blank Planet' short film (as seen on the 'Fear of a Blank Planet' DVD-A) then launched straight into the song itself, Fear of a Blank Planet*. An excellent start to the album, and equally so in concert.

As I said in my review of the 'Nil Recurring' mini-album, I suspect What Happens Now? was derived from jamming and was in turn cherry-picked for details when composing the main 'Fear of a Blank Planet' album. Live, that relationship operated in reverse, the song neatly summarising the overall feel of the album without quite quoting from other tracks.
Incidentally, congratulations to SW for hitting the high notes live!

As usual, it was good to hear The Sound Of Muzak, but the 'as usual' part was a problem. Porcupine Tree only play a two-hour set, and there are other songs I'd prefer to hear (not necessarily 'better', just 'other'). Perhaps it's time to retire this tour regular.

Apart from that on the 'Deadwing' album, this was the best-yet arrangement of Lazarus*, one of my all-time favourite Porcupine Tree songs and one which SW's mother "actually likes". I'll have to hear an unofficial recording (which I happen to know was made, but which hasn't reached me yet) in order to pinpoint its attraction, but I think a greater role was given to the electric guitars, providing a less haunting but more immediately exciting feel. Wonderful.

As in April, Anesthetize* was sublime, but curiously it felt very long. With a running time of over seventeen minutes it is a long song, of course (a seventh of the entire concert – a seventh very well used), but this was the first time I really appreciated how long the high energy of the middle section is sustained and that the closing 'Water So Warm' section is itself fully 5½ minutes long. A marathon effort, both for the band and the audience.

Open Car isn't one of my favourite songs – the lead-in to the chorus and parts of the chorus itself are too 'generic pop-rock' for me – but it follows 'the beast' of 'Anesthetize' well. Sometimes one needs the undemanding pleasure of a little plain vanilla ice cream to appreciate a complex, heavy meal.

Dark Matter was a highlight of the concert for me. Perhaps because of its contrast with the heavier, more recent material and the fact I hadn't expected it (I almost mistook the intro for that of 'Russia On Ice', somehow), it stood out strongly, really holding my attention. I gained a new appreciation of the track, refreshing my interest in the whole 'Signify' album.

Blackest Eyes* has been a standard part of Porcupine Tree concerts since 2002, but unlike 'The Sound Of Muzak' it still feels fresh and I enjoyed it immensely. I fact, I think it's improved over the years, and prefer the vocal timings to those on the 'In Absentia' album.

This was the third rendition of Cheating the Polygraph that I'd heard. On the first occasion, when all the 'Fear of a Blank Planet' material had been unfamiliar, the then-unnamed 'Track 5' stood out as the weakest of the planned songs and I was glad it was dropped from the main album. When it reappeared on 'Nil Recurring', my immediate opinion was more favourable (apart from the overbearing drumming) but since September the slightly whiney vocals (not lyrics, vocals) have gradually dropped in my estimation. That impression was reinforced live, but the new arrangement highlighted something new to me: just how similar the heavier sections are to those of 'Anesthetize' and hence how, well, redundant. In short, this was probably my least favourite part of the set.

A Smart Kid had felt out-of-place in the April set, almost lacking in power compared to the 'Fear Of A Blank Planet' material, but not this time, either because the arrangement had been revised or because of the overall balance of tonight's setlist. It was particularly good to hear SW take the climactic solo himself, as I love the 'standard' version.

Though SW almost apologised for repeating parts of the April concert, the main set again finished with the final two tracks from 'Fear of a Blank Planet', Way Out Of Here* and Sleep Together. This tour is supposed to be promoting the album, which I particularly like, so I didn't exactly object. An excellent ending. Though they're approaching the end of a long tour and SW had said he was looking forward to a rest, I was impressed by the strength of his vocal delivery on 'Sleep Together'. His voice has certainly developed in recent years.

The band left the stage for a couple of minutes then returned for possibly the highlight of the concert for me: a ~9-minute version of 'The Sky Moves Sideways Phase 1' performed live in Manchester for the first time since 1999 and hence my first time ever, if we don't count unofficial recordings. At the time I thought SW performed the opening instrumental alone, the others having nothing to do (this was the only song of the concert during which Wes wasn't on-stage, presumably grabbing a Guinness), but in hindsight Richard must have been playing too (his contribution makes the song) and I doubt the percussion was prerecorded. The subsequent vocal section was electrifying, whilst the high-energy end was a reminder (as if that was needed) of how much I love the band's pre-2002 sound.

I quite like 'Trains' but I've never understood the level of fan adulation it attracts and as with 'The Sound Of Muzak', I wouldn't object to it being dropped from the live set for a while; somehow its familiarity meant it failed to fully hold my attention. The circumstances didn't help. As it was introduced, I received a strong impression that 'Trains' would be the final encore piece. Excellent – even though I had to leave at 22:55 to catch a train, it seemed I'd see the whole concert after all. It then occurred to me that that'd only work if I was already by the exit at the end of the song – I wouldn't be able to wait for ~1,700 people to filter out ahead of me. Hence, I was obliged to push through the crowd in the middle of the song (sorry, folks) then leave quickly (at precisely 22:55) as soon as the applause began and SW looked as if he was removing his guitar to finish.

Bad news: I've since discovered that there was another encore. Good news: it was 'Halo', one of the few Porcupine Tree songs I absolutely dislike and one I was actually glad to have missed – as the final encore at the concert in April, I'd thought it a disappointing way to end, and I much preferred to walk back to the station with 'Trains' in my immediate memory.

So, another wonderful concert (from both bands), and I can't wait for the next one. It's unclear when that'll be; 2008 is supposed to be a year off for Porcupine Tree and the only known releases are to be reissues and SW solo projects. However, SW did mention they'd be back late next year, which made little sense. There's certainly been no suggestion of new material to tour.

[Those wanting the review can stop reading now; the following bit is just for cyclists.]

Leaving Preston station at ~00:15, the ride home took longer than normal due to an annoying gusty headwind, reducing my average speed to 14.5 mph (23 km/h; 38 km/h max. speed) and meaning I wasn't home until ~02:00 (01:58, I think). In hindsight, that average isn't much lower than the more usual 16 mph (26 km/h) for this route and my bike computer says I was only moving for 1 hour 34', so Preston's numerous traffic lights must have been the main delay.
For my own future reference and anyone else considering cycling from Preston railway station to Moorlands, Lancaster, the precise(ish) distance is 22.75 miles (36.6 km) – 1.75 miles more than I'd thought, which explains why it's always felt like more than 21 miles! Two useful landmarks are the northernmost turn-off from the A6 to Garstang, at 12.1 miles and hence only slightly over 10 miles from Lancaster, and Junction 33 of the M6, at 16.6 miles – it's important to accept that one isn't 'nearly there' at that point, and over 5 miles remain ahead.

It's important to note that though these tracks arose alongside the 'Fear of a Blank Planet' songs, they aren't outtakes rejected because they were in any way inferior, it's just that they didn't contribute to the very specific concept of that album.
To repeat: each Porcupine Tree album is a coherent composition, to be heard in order, not merely a bunch of songs. 'Fear of a Blank Planet' can be considered as one 51-minute piece in six sections, and there's no room for tangential bonus tracks.
Hence, as the band said at the official site, 'Nil Recurring' could be considered as the second Porcupine Tree album of 2007, forming an independent, standalone composition, not merely as an addendum to the 'main' album.

This material is therefore additional to the earlier release, with one possible exception. Featuring a key line from 'Anesthetize' (actually the most direct quote from 'Lunar Park', the Brett Easton Ellis novel which inspired the whole concept) plus the title and chorus of 'Sentimental', 'Normal' might be considered an alternative take on some of the material already heard on 'Fear of a Blank Planet'; had this song been used then, it could only have been instead of 'Sentimental' (and I wouldn't have wanted that to be dropped!).

Two pieces, 'Nil Recurring' and 'Cheating The Polygraph', were recorded at the same time as the 'Fear of a Blank Planet' tracks, between October and December 2006. John Wesley isn't a member of the studio band, so doesn't play on the EP, but the guitars were produced (and recorded?) at Wes' studio in Florida, as SW particularly likes the setup.
In contrast, these renditions of 'Normal' and 'What Happens Now?' were recorded more recently, in July 2007 after the first full round of touring 'Fear of a Blank Planet' across Europe and N.America.

The title track is a splendidly-complex instrumental (not that complexity is automatically good). I do like it, but I don't find it particularly distinctive; randomly shuffled amongst the other post-2002 instrumentals, I'm not confident I could distinguish it. Not a problem, as I like them too.

'Normal' is by far my favourite track on the EP, at least comparable to anything on the full album. It features acoustic guitar sections almost reminiscent of Jethro Tull, the best Porcupine Tree overlapping vocal harmonies since 2002, a recurring Eastern-influenced theme like that of 'Sleep Together', a 'heavy' guitar interlude and even a shiny new kitchen sink. Perhaps not the latter – the song really does work, despite this description implying it's a mess of conflicting elements.

Even as recently as the end of 2006, 'Cheating the Polygraph' was considered for inclusion in 'Fear of a Blank Planet': it was the then-untitled 'Track 5' played live on the 'Arriving Somewhere...' tour. Even before it was known that it'd be omitted from the album, concertgoers had been saying that it didn't seem to fit; evidently the band agreed. I recall that working version as one of the less impressive preview pieces, particularly an OTT guitar solo which only seemed to excite a couple of teenagers standing near me.
The first time I heard the mini-album, I had major doubts about this track, as the drum rhythms seemed annoyingly mismatched with the verse lyrics (Gavin Harrison shares writing credits with SW). I still think they're far too busy, but the other elements are strong enough. That 'guitar frenzy' I'd criticised last year seems to have been tamed.

'What Happens Now?' is the longest song on the EP, with a running time of 8:23, but there are no lyrics after 3:07, so it's more of an instrumental, really. Like the other instrumental, 'Nil Recurring', writing credits are shared by the whole band; I could speculate that it was derived from initial 'jamming', then cherrypicked for ideas which were developed on the main album, as fragments of 'What Happens Now?' have an oddly familiar feel.

The initial release of 'Nil Recurring' has been on the band's own 'Transmission' label, solely available by preorder from the Porcupine Tree webstore at Burning Shed, as a limited edition in a digipack. Three thousand were allocated to web sales, with a further 2,000 held back for the merchandise stall at concerts on the forthcoming tours of N.America and Europe. However, the first batch sold-out within a week, so some of the tour stock was offered via Burning Shed. That too sold out overnight, so yet more were allocated to mail-order. It's unclear how that'll affect tour merchandise, and whether the 'limited edition' has been repressed (Burning Shed apparently say not), to the annoyance of collectors who wanted it to be limited.

In any case, there was never an intention to limit availability of the music, just the digipack. As planned from the outset, a retail edition of the EP, in a jewel case, will be released in the new year by Snapper. The music is now also available for download from Burning Shed in both .mp3 and lossless .flac formats.
It's also worth mentioning that all four 'Nil Recurring' tracks appear on the limited edition 'Fear of a Blank Planet' double LP and in 5.1 surround sound on the (not limited) 'Fear of a Blank Planet' DVD-A, due out this week.
Therefore, unless you're a packaging collector, please do not pay premium eBay prices for the mini-album, and there is no excuse for accessing an illicit torrent.

I'm certainly looking forward to hearing at least some of these tracks live in December!

[Update 24/11/07: The jewel case edition of the EP will be released on 18 February, 2008. Surprisingly, it won't be released by Snapper, but by the metal-orientated Peaceville Records.]

[Update 24/02/08: The 'mainstream' edition of the mini-album has entered the BBC 'Top 30 Independent Label Albums' chart at no.8. Not bad considering the majority of hardcore fans will have already bought the digipack edition.]

[Update 02/03/08: It dropped to no.24 in its second week, but I'm surprised it charted at all, never mind still being there for a second week!]

This review will be brief, as I only want to make two observations:

The visual designers showed real ingenuity in making the best use of limited computer graphics technology. A remake might look more spectacular, but would probably have a shiny ordinariness rather than the original's stylised originality.

Like the other Disney-funded sci-fi film of that time, 'The Black Hole', the script was awful, in exactly the same ways. The dialogue wasn't great, but in particular, the plot was too abrupt, as if over-edited. There was no sense of gradual development, whether in plot or characterisation; one was dropped straight into an under-explained existing situation, then carried along having to interpret conceptual elements for oneself. Fair enough, the target audience was presumably rather young, but still....
I may be misjudging the approach – it could have been a revolutionary attempt to reproduce the effect of reading a novel, in which the words on the page are elaborated by the reader's own imagination rather than being stated outright. Maybe.

My first (mistaken!) impression was... succinct: "That was dire." However, repeated listening and a little insight from the 'Making Of...' DVD which accompanies the special edition CD¹ have boosted my appreciation. I think the main problem was my own expectation of high-energy, accessible rock music (with more substance emerging with familiarity) comparable to 2003's excellent 'Field Of Crows' album. Though it's not the one I'd anticipated, I now think 'Thirteenth Star' is a reasonably strong album (though not one I necessarily like...). Perhaps I'm overstating, but its unexpected depth makes 'Field Of Crows' even seem a little superficial.

To expand that initial impression, at first I thought the music and lyrics were boring; 'been there, done that', and if you've heard one downbeat Fish song, this album would be all too familiar. From an artist who claims to be progressive, it seemed dreadfully stale. However, that was only the result of a single play-through and based on mistaken (inflated?) expectations. Hearing it again a few more times, and considering it on its own terms, I'm more impressed.
Uncharacteristically, I've taken a while to compose this review, returning to it several times over the weekend, between playing the album again several times. In that time, I've gone from "this is appalling" to "It's not his best" to "er... actually, it might be" and back to "don't be so wishful: it's not his best".
If this review has any purpose beyond spreading the word that Fish has a new album out², I hope it's a warning against preconceptions and an appeal to give the music, and especially the lyrics, more than one chance to penetrate.

It'd be naïve to ignore the context in which Fish wrote these lyrics, namely the departure of his fiance, Heather Findlay of 'prog' band 'Mostly Autumn', in late May 2007. This was another reason for my initial dislike. The material seemed too personal, and I have a strong aversion to people criticising ex-partners in public; I'd thought better of Fish. Yet that too was a flawed preconception, and it seems the album's concept was determined well before it was mirrored by real life.

There's a fine balance. I don't listen to music for mere transitory entertainment, 'just a bit of fun': I demand more substance. Yet nor do I seek discomfort, or to be unproductively reminded of unhappy times in my own life. If '13th Star' had been no more than an bitter declaration of Fish's grievances, I wouldn't have wanted to hear it. Though there are clearly raw emotions in the lyrics, framing them in a slightly abstract narrative somehow adds sufficient distance, and it feels like a fictional protagonist singing about a fictional lost love, not Derek singing about Heather. Whether that's strictly accurate is a different matter....

That pre-existing concept (yes, it's a concept album, but don't worry about it) still defines the basic structure, being the story of someone seeking love/fulfilment within the mundane cycle of everyday life, and failing; the protagonist is left looking for his 'thirteenth star' alone ('Misplaced Adulthood', anyone?). According to the 'Making Of...' DVD, ~80% of the lyrics were already completed by the time of the break-up, so the subject matter and direction apparently predate events and emotional responses they seem to document. An interview segment from April 2007 casually mentions an intended happy ending, so clearly the narrative arc was amended to incorporate Fish's strong feelings, but it's not the overt attack on Findlay that I'd thought (though read whatever you wish into the first line of '13th Star': "With a heart full of sky,..."). Apologies for doubting his integrity.
The only remaining uncomfortable moment is in the 'Fish TV' promo at the end of the 'Making Of...' DVD rather than on the album itself. A video clip of questionable relevance shows Fish singing 'Just Good Friends' to Findlay³: "what would you do if I went down on my knees to you...?" (which he did (twice), under Micklegate in York). I really wonder why he included that.

The music itself is a minor problem. As a non-instrumentalist, Fish is slightly dependent on his collaborators. When that was Mickey Simmonds on the early solo albums or Steven Wilson on 'Sunsets On Empire', it was fine, but this time his primary partner was bassist Steve Vantsis on his first ever writing project. Unfortunately, it shows: the music is competently workmanlike and enjoyable, but in places it's a little predictable, particularly in terms of song structure. I'm not really complaining, and '13th Star' is consistently preferable to, say, 'Fellini Days', but it doesn't particularly challenge the listener; it doesn't sparkle.

Naturally, the immediate highlights are the full-on 'rock' tracks, 'Openwater' (especially the verse keyboards), and 'Dark Star' played at a neighbour-rattling volume. In an earlier draft, I was going to name 'Where In The World' as the album's low point, the obligatory maudlin ballad to skip (there's one on every Fish album). Yet in context, it works, just not necessarily in isolation, which illustrates that '13th Star' is indeed an 'album' album: a coherent composition with an emotional curve rather than a bunch of unrelated individual songs.

In terms of technique, Mark Wilkinson's cover art may his best ever (though the booklet layout work still looks cursory, even amateurish), but the subject matter is disturbingly 'proggy' – angels sailing into a stormy sea, exaggerated starscapes, even a ****ing sea serpent. Dangerously Roger Dean-ish. I'm glad the special edition digipack comes in a plainer slipcase, but presumably the Wilkinson artwork will appear on the retail edition, and deter potential buyers who'll naturally question the album's apparent mainstream credibility.
Yes, I know genre pigeonholing is annoying and it shouldn't matter if journalists and mainstream rock fans falsely associate Fish with crappy retro 'prog' or 'neo-prog' acts, but this is marketing, and first impressions do matter. I loathe 'prog'. If my first exposure to Fish's career was seeing this artwork in a jewel case in HMV, I would not buy it. Simple as that.
Heh. I've just realised that I primarily associate the pictorial content with albums by second-rate 'neo-prog' bands, the artwork of which was very probably influenced by Mark Wilkinson's early work for Marillion and Fish! The original remains the best, but still, the association is unfortunate.

Two final, isolated thoughts:

• I don't have anything specific to say about it, but the beautiful production work by Calum Malcolm deserves especial mention.
• Why does '13th Star' (the song) begin with the intro to 'Sugar Mice'?

2: The special edition of '13th Star', featuring the CD in a three-panel digipack with a full-colour booklet and 'Making Of...' DVD, all within a decorative slipcase, is available now, solely from Fish's webstore and concerts. The standard retail edition is expected at the start of 2008.

3: It may be from the Berlin concert in October 2006, the last time they appeared together on stage.

I suppose it was fairly pretty, and an interesting view of emerging modernity in fashions, but not recommended, I'm afraid.

One point which might help to know beforehand – I'd have approached it differently if I'd realised sooner – is that it's not really a biopic, but more intended to be a stylised reflection of Klimt's mindset, even aesthetic, involving symbolic composite characters.

2002's operatic 'Hero' and 2004's 'House Of Flying Daggers' are amongst my favourite films, if only in terms of visual production and cinematography (towards the end of the latter, the plot is less than wonderful). Hence, when A. informed me that it was being shown at The Dukes, I was immediately interested to see Yimou Zhang's latest Chinese 'historical' epic, 'Curse of the Golden Flower'.
Maybe those earlier films had raised my expectations too far, but I found it disappointing. No; on reflection, I do think the film itself was flawed.

A major part of the earlier films' visual appeal was the use of simple blocks of colour: whole scenes in which everything was, for example, a deep red or a vivid blue. Hypersaturated colours were used again here, but in more complex and ultimately less satisfying combinations. One scene, in which a black-clad 'ninja' (in 10th Century China?) crept along a corridor was unintentionally comic, as plain black was the worst possible camouflage against the brilliantly-coloured, near-psychedelic pillars and walls. The coloration and extensive use of gold certainly conveyed opulence, even decadence, but also a lack of taste.

That may have been my initial source of disappointment, but the main problem was a two-dimensional sterility in the characterisation. All the characters seemed like shallow puppets, or models in the other sense, being little more than a means of displaying costumes and jewellery. Admittedly, the actors played characters themselves playing formal roles, but even in private and when that outer layer was shattered, the audience learned very little about any of them as people.
In particular, the Emperor and his third son were cyphers, the former too well hidden behind his ceremonial demeanor (which is understandable) and the latter less prominent than servants until almost the end of the film.
I'm certainly not saying the acting was poor – far from it: Yun-Fat Chow, Li Gong and Ye Liu were particularly good, but they portrayed generic, or at least underdeveloped, characters well.

The film was based on a well-known play, but I understand that was set in a different social context. Transposing it to the sterility of the Imperial court obviously increased the opportunity for visual opulence, but sacrificed the chance for the characters to behave as genuine humans rather than ceremonial performers. An obvious theme was that the Imperial family was glorious on the outside but rotten inside. Regrettably, that assessment could be extended to the whole film.

Conversely, I was impressed by the depiction of the sterile, stultifying rigidity of ritual court routine, which may have justified the outward actions of the characters (certainly the Emperor). The film was punctuated by announcements of the hours, a stylistic device more familiar in Peter Greenaway's highly structured 'art-over-narrative' films. In fact, early scenes of court servants' daily preparations were also reminiscent of Greenaway's work – even at the time, I wondered whether it was a deliberate allusion.
This wasn't solely a stylistic device, though; it added impact to a major plot point. Immediately after the climactic battle scene in the palace courtyard, another army, of servants, replaced the crushed flowers, rinsed the blood off the steps, and laid fresh carpets, all before the next hour announcement. Preserving the illusion of eternal calm was beyond question.

Yes, there was a battle scene, but despite the title, setting, genre convention and the foregoing two Yimou Zhang films, this wasn't really a kung-fu or 'adventure' film, being a somewhat Jacobean/Shakespearean tragedy focusing more on family intrigues than physical combat. That said, there were some fights, with the expected high standard of choreography and a literally spectacular scale. The aforementioned courtyard battle apparently took over twenty days to film, on the largest set ever built for a movie in China.

It didn't help that the film was out-of-focus again. I did complain, but from the back of the auditorium, and hence the projection room, it didn't look too bad. Nothing was done.
From my seat, four rows from the front, the entire right side of the screen was blurred (strange that it was only one side) and the subtitles had a ghost double-image. Close-ups were okay, but intricate patterns – something of a feature in this film – were smears of colour and in wide shots faces were unrecognisable. It wasn't disastrous, and I didn't leave, but it was rather like watching on VHS with dodgy tracking, when I don't think it unreasonable to expect something closer to DVD quality, count-the-pores-in-Yun-Fat-Chow's-nose, pin-sharp clarity.

So, what am I saying? (I often wonder...)
If you enjoyed 'Hero' and 'House Of Flying Daggers', 'Curse of the Golden Flower' is worth seeing, but I do think it's the weakest of the three (not that they're a trilogy) and could have been better. Very much a case of style over substance.

*: Cheap joke, but unexpectedly accurate.

Continuum is a collaboration between Steven Wilson (Bass Communion, Porcupine Tree, etc.) and Dirk Serries (vidnaObmana, Fear Falls Burning). For those unfamiliar with those projects, I'd better state that the content of their second album is dark ambient 'music'.
Ambient means it's composed of drones and processed samples. There's no melody or conventional structure, merely chord progressions and s-u-s-t-a-i-n-s. Where any conventional instruments are used, it's as individual notes prolonged for 5-10 minutes. Much of the attraction is in the texture, the atmosphere, the, well, ambience.
Dark means it's evocative of emptiness: windswept moors and abandoned factories, not flower-filled meadows and waves lapping on quiet beaches. New-Agey whalesong does not appear.
'Music' is in quotes because some might question whether ambient noise meets the definition of the word (I don't).

Still here?

There are only three pieces, 'Constructs IV-VI' (I-III are on the debut album), but the shortest is over 17 minutes long, giving an overall running time of almost an hour. However, I feel those are appropriate lengths to absorb as individual pieces, separately, rather than playing the whole album as a continuous experience.

Construct IV
One soon realises this album is going to be a lot less ethereal than 'Continuum'. A lot less. 'Drones and processing' are the expected components of dark ambient music, but Continuum have added electric and bass guitars, creating something approaching ambient metal. The pace is slow, suggesting the unstoppable ponderous encroachment of an oppressive weight. It's not party music!

Construct V
Very reminiscent of Bass Communion's 'Ghosts on Magnetic Tape', faux-EVP voices backed by a drone itself reminiscent of distant machinery, soon joined by additional layers of mechanistic electronic tones. Imagine walking alone through the vast turbine hall of a near-derelict power station, towards the sole remaining functional generator, with a disembodied voice whispering wordlessly in your ear, gradually drowned out by pipes 'singing' as they warm and the noise of the generator itself. Though the tones are purer and marginally more musical than raw mechanical noise, you get the idea.

Construct VI
Again, there's a sense of occupying a vast, derelict space; the beginning inspires thoughts of the wind through a disused factory's broken skylights. The organ-like electronic drones, accompanied by more heavy, fuzzy guitar drones, add to the sense of wandering alone through a deconsecrated cathedral of industry, the ghosts of machines gradually materialising from the darkness. Towards the end, it's as if the building itself is collapsing under the bass-rich vibration of the phantom machinery. Play it loud enough, and that mightn't be entirely fanciful.

I must stress that this isn't kiddie-goth music, wallowing in pretentious angst and self-pity. It's very, very dark, but not merely for effect and not in a melancholic, depressing sense; if anything it's a little sterile. In context, that's a good thing; one could interpret it as going beyond the futility of mortal emotion: everything dies, as exemplified by the majesty of large, empty spaces which were once hubs of intense activity, so why mope about it?

As with the first album (indeed, like most Bass Communion releases), a little more attention has been paid to the packaging than is usual. The CD comes in a DVD-format digipack designed by Lasse Hoile, with three postcards instead of a booklet (there's little to say about the musical production). The artwork is somewhat similar to Hoile's work on the first 'Blackfield' album: very dark processed photographs, predominently red (on black) and subtly degraded. This time the subject matter is coastal: seaweed holdfasts on rocks, pitted pebbles and a barnacle-encrusted whelk shell. The effect is of specimens from the collection of a macabre Edwardian gentleman scientist.

Again like the first album, 'Continuum 2' is a limited release, with only 2,000 copies available from Soleilmoon, Headphone Dust and vidnaObmana (collectively, not 2,000 each). The first album sold out fairly quickly, so if you're interested, order it now. You will not find it in your local record shop, nor at Amazon, etc. That said, 'Continuum' (a limited edition of 1,000 copies) was so popular that it was reissued on iTunes.

Four minutes and three seconds. Remember that. You've been warned.

The first album, 'Office of Strategic Influence', was sufficiently complex and non-standard to sustain interest – it's not mindless pop rock. However, there were beautifully catchy moments throughout. 'Free' doesn't achieve that balance so well, and fewer songs grabbed me from the very first time I heard them.

Some of the sampled material and the title of 'Office of Strategic Influence' (it refers to a post-9/11 propaganda agency established by the Pentagon to manage foreign perceptions of US policies) meant that the first album had a strong thematic feel; almost a consistent statement. 'Free' doesn't, and initially seems to be 'merely' a bunch of unrelated songs. That's not necessarily a problem, as the songs are rather good!

There's nothing as obviously dark as the debut album's 'ShutDOWN'.

The presence of Jim Matheos (of Fate's Warning) and, to a lesser extent Mike Portnoy (of Dream Theater), might over-emphasise the prog metal aspect of the project – it's there, in some sections of some songs, but on the whole this sounds a lot like Chroma Key with extra guitars. That's probably the main thing to emphasise to those who have heard the debut album: 'Office of Strategic Influence' could be considered to be an equal mix of Matheos' guitar-led prog metal and Moore's atmospheric keyboards-and-textures music, but 'Free' has greater emphasis on the latter.

This time, it's a little clearer that OSI is a two-man project: Kevin Moore and Jim Matheos are credited as composers, producers and lead musicians, with guest appearences (performance only) by others including Mike Portnoy and Joey Vera, who presumably weren't involved in the writing sessions and overall direction of the project.

Some songs seem a little repetitive, but on repeated listening, that seems to be for deliberate effect, and works well, particularly on 'Sure You Will'.

It may be a coincidence, but the second song, the title track, is one of the heaviest and comes across as an almost anthemic 'statement of intent', just as 'OSI', the title track of the first album, was sequenced second, and is one of that album's heaviest tracks.
Overall, the album isn't so full-on 'heavy' as its predecessor. Parts of 'Better' (the eighth song; I'm mentioning it here out of sequence) approach the same intensity, but it's not so in-yer-face, seeming a secondary accompaniment to the song rather than the dominant, driving element.

I may be imagining another structural similarity: The rhythm guitar accompaniment to 'Standby (Looks Like Rain)', the last track on 'Office...' sounds remarkably like that of 'Our Town', the last track on 'Free'. Listening to both albums together on shuffle, I misidentified one as the other for a moment.

Though I like them, the first two songs didn't immediately strike me as extraordinary, but 'Go' has it; within 20-30 seconds I thought it was great, and I like the way it developed. The syncopated vocals really grabbed me, as a very Chroma Key element.
There's a strange vocal rhythm, but it really works.

All Gone Now: another 'heavier' one, using the same 'almost repetitive' style as 'Sure You Will'. It's okay, but I'm afraid it doesn't hold my attention.

Somehow, I don't associate OSI or Chroma Key with wistfulness or sentiment, so 'Home Was Good' is a little different. Otherwise, it could be a Chroma Key song – voice, keyboards, ambient textures and some semi-acoustic guitar. Though one of my immediate favourites, it hasn't grown as much as others.

'Bigger Wave' is very OSI, consistent with the first album.

I particularly like the simmering, almost menacing rhythm of 'Kicking'; there are a couple of particularly nice chord changes, too. The first few times I heard it, I thought it slightly over-long, but somehow that feeling has diminished. It could almost be a good single. Imagine that.

'Simple Life': Er. Nothing to say about this one!

The intro to 'Once' could be the Ozric Tentacles, though with a little too mechanistic a feel for those hippies. The track proceeds in the same style, reminiscent of industrial processes or the operation of monolithic bureaucracy – apt for an Office of Strategic Influence (or a Ministry of Information...). I also the overlapping vocals.

'Our Town': just acoustic guitar and voice, with a little electric guitar and a very nice banjo section.

So: I like it, and that has only increased with repeated listening. It's certainly one of my musical highlights of 2006. However, fewer 'Free' tracks have stuck in my mind than those from 'Office...', and I choose to play the latter far more frequently.

As with 'Office...' I bought the 'Special Edition' of 'Free', which included a further 20 minutes (okay, 19:25) of music on a bonus disc. As with 'Office...', it's okay, and if you happen to see the Limited Edition available for about the same price as the standard one, go for it, but don't make a special effort to find it or pay a premium price.

The bonus tracks make greater use of samples, especially sampled speech, than the main album. Except for 'Set It On Fire' and part of 'OSIdea 9', all percussion sounds programmed.

'OSIdea 9' is a heavy guitar instrumental, accompanied by programmed percussion and the sampled voice of someone claiming he's about to be extradited to the USA to be executed.

'Set It On Fire' is the only bonus track to sound like a completed OSI song. Moore is credited as writer, but there's quite a lot of heavy guitar accompaniment.

'Communicant' sounds like a completed instrumental, featuring keyboards, samples and percussion, with guitars only introduced in the final 30 seconds. It's slightly surprising, therefore, that it's a Matheos composition, not by Moore. It's good, but I agree with the decision to leave it off the album, as the sampled speech wouldn't have fitted the album's overall sound, if not theme.

'When You're Ready' is one of my favourite tracks on 'Office of Strategic Influence', but the inclusion of the demo (and why on this album?) is redundant. Apart from the lack of 'real' drums, it's near-identical to the finished version.

'Remain Calm' seems a self-indulgent opportunity for Moore (alone) to play with odd drum rhythms, directionless keyboard sustains and fragments of sampled speech. Experimentation is fine, but this is one Moore could have kept to himself. It's marginally better in distinct stereo e.g. via earphones, as the overlapping rhythms are a little more comprehensible.

The final track is an odd inclusion: 'Old War' is a 66-second song by Bige Akdeniz, who also contributed guitar and vocals; the only OSI contribution is a few seconds of percussion, presumably programmed by Moore.

Queuing outside the venue, the audience seemed older and more predominantly male than usual, wearing a disconcerting number of retro 'prog' T-shirts. However, once inside, the hall soon filled with a wider range of people displaying preferable affiliations.

The doors opened on time at 19:30, and I went straight to the merchandise stand. I needn't have rushed, as Ade (Porcupine Tree drum tech & stallholder) seemed to have learned from last September, when tour T-shirts completely sold out within eight minutes, and there was plenty of stock. If anyone's interested, I bought the new tour T-shirt featuring a curiously low-res version of the 'Fear of a Blank Planet' cover image and a long sleeve shirt featuring the silhouette of an open hand (in the 'FoaBP' special edition's booklet, it's the image opposite the 'Anesthetize' part 3 ('Water so warm...') lyrics). Porcupine Tree are really grasping marketing opportunities at last, and Ade dropped a promotional postcard into the 'FoaBP' carrier bag.
Incidentally, don't wait to buy your copy of the new album at a concert, as neither the special edition of 'Fear of a Blank Planet' nor even the standard retail edition is being sold by the merchandise stall. This is because the band and label wish to maximise initial sales via mainstream, chart-registered retailers.

In the remaining ~20 minutes before the concert began, it was great to meet Simon 'Carbon Nation' Clarke in person, and meet ex-Lancastrian Adam again, but putting faces to online identities is always difficult, and two others vanished into the crowd before I registered that I recognised them from photos.

The venue was smaller than I'd expected; more of a club with a bar area and dance floor than solely a concert hall. I was told the capacity was around 1,200, and I don't think it completely filled, so the one-off move from the Manchester Academy (capacity 1,700-1,800) may have deterred some.
One advantage was that the room was on two levels, offering people at the back a better view than at the one-level Academy. That also seemed to spread the crowd slightly, and I easily found myself only seven 'rows' back from the stage by the time Porcupine Tree came on (I usually stand well back, 15-20 'rows' away, near the mixing desk to avoid the crowd and appreciate optimum sound).
For those planning to visit in future, the 53° is a 10-15 min walk from Fishergate (Preston's main shopping street) and the railway station, and there's a car park right by the venue.

I've mentioned before that I don't like the custom of including support bands in concerts, but for once Porcupine Tree were accompanied by a band I already like, Amplifier. In fact, after OSI's 'Office of Strategic Influence', 'Amplifier' was probably my favourite album of 2003 (though I didn't discover it until late 2004), markedly ahead of Porcupine Tree's 'In Absentia'.
It made a change to be very familiar with the support band's music, though I admit I couldn't name the opening instrumental until playing 'Insider' again this morning. Only two songs were from that second album, with the remainder being obvious choices from the eponymous debut album. Amusingly, I was able to predict which they'd be, in almost exactly the right order:
Gustav's Arrival
O Fortuna
Motorhead
Panzer
Old Movies
Airborne

So far as I could tell, the playing was excellent, remaining quite close to the studio arrangements, if abbreviated. So far as I could tell. Unfortunately, the sound quality was... sub-optimal. Amplifer's music incorporates considerable controlled feedback, but the further distortion introduced by the band's amps and mixing desk (they didn't use Porcupine Tree's) resulted in rather muddy and out-of-balance sound. At a few moments I was appreciating the memory of the album versions, as the live renditions were indistinct. I suspect those less familiar with how the music should sound received a poor first impression. That's a pity, and I recommend giving them a second chance.

Amplifier played from 20:00 for forty minutes, so there was a twenty-minute interval before Porcupine Tree were expected. Some headed for the bar, but I took the opportunity to edge forward a little, towards the middle of the stage. I'd provided a vague description of myself at the unofficial Porcupine Tree forum, which was adequate for one of my new neighbours to recognise me – hi, Steve (who introduced me to his friend as 'a man from the Internet', as if I'd just downloaded to the venue).

The lights dimmed at 21:05, but it was a further five minutes before the band came on, causing me slight anxiety about abbreviating the set to meet a 23:00 curfew. I needn't have worried; the full set was played.

The sound was excellent – perhaps the best I've heard at a concert. It was loud, but extremely clear. Last September's mix had been far too bass-rich, which battered the crowd in a way which was interesting in itself (I thought the 'wall of industrial noise' effect was great) but which distorted the music. This time, every element was crystal-clear without compromising raw power, allowing the effective use of stereo, er, effects in places. Well done. It makes a tremendous difference to be able to appreciate the subtleties of the final song with as clear hearing as during the first. This may be the first rock concert I've left without my ears ringing.

I don't particularly like back-projected videos at concerts; I don't want someone else's interpretation of the music to distract from my own enjoyment, and the whole point of attending is to see the band perform for real, live, in front of me, not to watch something pre-recorded. Perhaps unfortunately, then, eight (indicated with asterices, below) of the sixteen pieces played had video accompaniment.
Two, from 'In Absentia', used the projections from that tour: abstract assemblages of Lasse Hoile images which were atmospheric without attempting to directly illustrate the lyrical content. Two more, from 'Deadwing', were similarly fairly abstract animations (both are provided for home-viewing on the 'Arriving Somewhere...' DVD). All were easy to ignore.
That leaves four new projections accompanying songs from 'Fear of a Blank Planet'. These were rather different, being more like 'proper' music videos for broadcast than mere concert accompaniments. Stylistically similar to the album booklet artwork and still images on the special edition DVD, they seemed to be relevant to the lyrical content, without offering an outright narrative. In a way, I welcomed them as, if they genuinely illustrate the meanings intended by Steven Wilson (SW), they helped me understand the songs. However, I wasn't there to watch TV, so kept my attention on the band as much as I was able.

Aside from the entire new album, Porcupine Tree played one song from 'Signify' (1996), two (two of my all-time favourite Porcupine Tree songs, in fact) from 'Stupid Dream' (1999), one from 'Lightbulb Sun' (2000), three from 'In Absentia' (2002) and three from 'Deadwing' (2005).
That's not quite what I'd expected; recent tours have featured new material, a significant amount from the post-2002 albums, and very little from the older back catalogue. Last September, they played the new material, eight 2002-2005 songs and only one from 1993-2000; I'd expected much the same again, so was very pleasantly surprised (when I read Wednesday's setlist – I didn't arrive at this concert 'cold'). Apart from the final encore, I wouldn't have changed anything.

As usual for a Porcupine Tree concert, the audience were still and attentive – some might say static. A few tried headbanging to complex rhythms, which looked foolish, but otherwise movement was limited to a little head-nodding and foot-tapping. In writing, that sounds awfully sedate, but somehow it wasn't, and I wouldn't have wanted it otherwise – it's a concert, not a party – and there's no question that the audience were fully appreciative. One group behind me was rather... chatty, but beyond being aware of them, I wasn't particularly distracted.

I don't think I'd previously appreciated the full extent of Richard Barbieri's role in live performances. He played keyboards, of course, and his soundscapes both underpinned and rounded-out the overall sound, but there were moments when I realised neither Gavin nor Colin Edwin were playing at all. Conversely, particularly during heavier sections of the new material, SW and John Wesley (Wes) were effectively playing rhythm beneath Richard's lead.

I've said before that I think Gavin Harrison's drumming has been too high in the mix of studio recordings since he joined the band in 2002, so I'd better clarify something I realised during the concert. It's the snares which have been too dominant in the mix of songs from 'In Absentia' and 'Deadwing', but I really appreciated the contribution his bass drum made in propelling the rhythm tonight. I'm no musician, so apologise if I'm misusing the terminology; I mean the 'harsher', 'bright'-sounding percussion has been too clear in the past, whereas I'd overlooked his 'deeper'-sounding drumming.

Though there were times when he had nothing to do, I was struck by how comfortable Wes looked on stage – he's not a stereotypical guitar hero, but in his quiet way, he's a consummate pro.

So; the songs themselves:

Intro
This pre-recorded piece was only played briefly as the band came on stage rather than as an extended lead-in beforehand. As such, my mind was elsewhere and I didn't give it much attention; I initially thought it was familiar, perhaps 'Revenant', but I've since checked, and it was an unnamed ambient piece.

Fear Of A Blank Planet*
I don't remember, and haven't heard an unofficial recording yet, but I presume this was the then-unnamed piece which opened concerts on the preview tour last year. Somehow it didn't have the same initial kick of raw power as I recalled, which made me wonder whether I'd view all of the 'Fear of a Blank Planet' material so differently now it's more familiar. I still enjoyed it, of course, and was uncontrollably grinning within moments.
The back-projected video had briefly been shown on the band's MySpace site, but had been temporarily withdrawn following the Virginia Tech murders last week. Now I've seen it, I can certainly understand why, as children with handguns, some shown in a school environment, was a little too close to truth.

Lightbulb Sun
It was wonderful to hear this live, not least because I hadn't attended any concerts on the 2000 tour, when it was last performed. Unexpectedly (by me), SW played a rather (visually) attractive acoustic guitar whilst Wes played the electric parts, which meant he took the solo. That was excellent: extended, and distinctly his own rather than a clone of SW's style.

My Ashes*
I think this was the first time SW spoke, greeting the crowd and saying that they'd play the whole new album interspersed by songs from the back catalogue "that we haven't played before" [pause; shocked exchange of glances between Steve & I ] "...at least not with this lineup." [*******!]
Again, I was surprised by Wes' central role in the live rendition: he sang the entire choruses, rather than simply backing SW. I'm not sure why. I don't think it added anything special, and it was slightly distracting to hear material I'm still assimilating in his accent and higher vocal register.
This video depicted fragmentary images of young childhood, which suggested to me that the song could be about a member of the 'blank generation' recalling happy, more innocent earlier life.

Anesthetize
SW introduced 'Anesthetize' by saying it's "a pretty hard one to play though not the hardest one on the record to play; more of that later". I thought that meant he'd later state which is most difficult, but he didn't.
Wow. I'd had some doubts about this song on the album, but suddenly I really 'got' it – it was sublime, especially the middle section. My highlight of an already wonderful evening.
The Alex Lifeson solo in the first section was played by Wes. I'm afraid the original was better; Wes' version seemed to lack direction.
Hearing it live reinforced my impression that this is really two distinct songs artificially forced together. The end of the second section felt like the natural end of the song, and received corresponding applause (which I joined, as it was deserved!), whereas applause after the third section felt like a formality.

Open Car
Not my favourite track, from not my favourite album, but it worked very well in the live setting, and was a good choice after an extended period of music unfamiliar to anyone who didn't already have the new album.

Gravity Eyelids*
Perhaps foolishly, I hadn't realised that the first third of the song is a duet between SW and Richard Barbieri. Until the second verse, the drums were played from tape (reproducing the filtered sound of the studio version), but I'm not sure why the bass was pre-recorded too – it's not as if Colin Edwin was doing something else at the time.

Drown With Me
SW introduced this by explaining the band had recorded but left certain songs off albums, then regretted doing so. The example he cited was 'Stars Die' which, for a fraction of a second, implied they were about to play it. However, that's practically impossible (too many layered vocals) and he went on to announce this b-side from the 'In Absentia' sessions. I'd hoped and expected it to be 'Half-Light', an outtake from 'Deadwing' which had been in the Glasgow set two nights ago, but 'Drown With Me' was okay too.
Like 'Stars Die', the studio version of 'Drown With Me' makes extensive use of overlapping vocals which couldn't be reproduced live. However, the live band does have two vocalists and backing tapes could be made, so it was surprising to hear the whole effect stripped away; apart from during the title phrase itself, I don't think SW and Wes sang together even once. Unfamiliarity with this version may have affected my judgement, but I'm afraid those sections just sounded clumsy and unfinished.

Sentimental*
The video depicted an older teenager in cafés, on public transport, etc., which I interpreted as being about a member of the 'blank generation' growing up, entering the mundane adult life of work & commuting and being unable to engage with that either.

Blackest Eyes*
I must have been enjoying myself – it's not often that I feel an urge to (discretely) sing along in public.

Sever
For several seconds, I didn't recognise this at all. It's distinctly different to the studio and 1997 live versions, with an unfamiliar drum rhythm. I'm looking forward to hearing it again on an unauthorised recording I happen to know was made, as I didn't really take it in at the time. I liked it, anyway.
One of the things I appreciate about Porcupine Tree is that they don't rest on their back catalogue, but I'd very much like to hear more mid-90s songs reinterpreted in this way.

A Smart Kid
I can't hear this song too often, so it almost goes without saying that I enjoyed it. However, it wasn't the highlight I'd expected it to be. Relative to the overall feel of the concert, it somewhat lacked power, and the normally stunning climactic guitar solo was slightly overshadowed by earlier pieces. It pains me to say it about one of my all-time favourites, but I think other songs could have been better choices within this setlist.

Way Out Of Here*
SW introduced this by saying the final two songs on the alb