To the Bone, Gloria

It's autumn 2017. Almost every night after work and class, I take two showers to get the smell of the cadaver dissection lab off my skin and out of my hair and hop on the 38 bus headed towards Center City. A stop directly in front of my apartment will take me all the way to 15th and South Streets. It's kismet, fate, that this SEPTA bus route basically goes from my door to his. I walk the half block to his place and knock on the window of his first-floor studio apartment. I have on my wired headphones and am listening to the latest Steven Wilson album, To the Bone. Wilson is one of the first artists we connected over when we first met a month or two ago, almost to the day this album came out in the US. It's still the early days of dating, and I have no inkling that we will see him together in six months on his US tour promoting this album. And I certainly don't have the slightest idea that we will play this album on a honeymoon road trip across Colorado in two years. 

I'll stop my personal anecdote early this week to talk more about the actual album. Mainly because I think To the Bone is a near-perfect album. I say that under the assumption that no prog purists read this blog regularly, and I won't get dragged in the comments for that statement. However, prog purists, if you're out there, please don't pick this as the week to come out of the woodwork. I swear I'll pick ELP's Brain Salad Surgery or King Crimson's Larks' Tongues in Aspic another time so we can have a more positive discussion. 

Steven Wilson has even said that he doesn't see himself as an exclusively progressive artist, but prog is inherent to his musical style; it's truly part of his DNA. This album is a great starting point for exploring his work as it contains a mix of musical influences. It's much lighter than some of his other solo work, and is highly approachable. The entire album is well-composed and thoughtfully arranged. The flow of To the Bone works so well, but each song can stand on its own outside of the context of this album. 

I'll walk you through some of my favorite songs on it now: 

"Pariah" — I think most of us can relate to being tired and overwhelmed from the weight of our past, present, future, and even ourselves. We know how it feels to be stuck in a loop of emotional fatigue. The crushing realization that it might be too late to make things right in our lives. But the lines "Take comfort from me / And I will take comfort from you" remind us that we can be a mess and still be there for each other. Resilience isn't always about being okay—it's about staying here, even when you are worn out. This song is for someone running on fumes but still trying. We can carry that grief, regret, and fatigue, and still offer comfort to others. We can choose to keep going and choose to "dig in again." And I can't talk about these lyrics and emotions without considering my experience during the pandemic. The pandemic was such a hard four years for me. It killed me. I worked as a Nursing Home Administrator and was running on fumes by the time I quit, but the whole time, I acted as a support system for whoever needed me—residents, family members, and my staff. There were times during those years that I thought of taking steps to no longer be here, but I'm glad that "[I'm] still here, and [starting to] dig in again."

"Refuge" — The musical influence of Pink Floyd is so evident in this song. The section by the four-minute mark could be put anywhere in "Shine On You Crazy Diamond" and you wouldn't even notice. Lyrically, this song is very raw. It speaks to the pain, resilience, longing, and desire to belong, which are part of the human condition. 

"Permanating" — When he introduced this song live, Wilson mentioned his love of pop music growing up, specifically how listening to his parents' ABBA records influenced this song. It's so joyous to listen to, but the lyrics are bittersweet. "Hold on / Hold onto the minute and sing it / And live it, it's always there / Hold on / Hold onto the minute and feel it / Believe it / And time is moving on / And listening to the song / We get older / Together / And every time we breathe / Another moment leaves us forever / To the never." This is a joy that comes from not only living in the moment but genuinely feeling the moment emotionally and understand that each moment is valuable. There is a significant sense of mindfulness here. Time is moving constantly, slipping away, slipping past us. Moments are fleeing from us continually. The best we can do is be open to experiencing life. Hold on to it and each other a little bit. Live fully and be present when you can. 

"People Who Eat Darkness" — "I live in the flat next door / And I can hear you fuck your girlfriend through the wall / But the only thing we share / Is the slightest nod as we're passing on the stairs." God, what a strong start, especially with the punk undertones in the music. This song is about the 2015 terrorist attacks at the Bataclan Theatre in Paris, a venue where Wilson has performed. These lyrics speak to isolation, alienation, and rage. The people who eat darkness can be those who are marginalized, surviving off pain, and living without hope. It speaks about how people can be physically close to us, and we still have no idea what they are thinking or experiencing—we can’t see what’s festering below the surface of their "normal" demeanor. 

"Song of I" — The French lyrics "T'es sous le sable / T'es dans l'eau" translate to "You're under the sand / You're in the water." The presence of this person is felt everywhere; they are entirely inescapable. These lyrics reminded me of the quote in Vladmir Nabokov's memoir Speak, Memory: "The breaking of a wave cannot explain the whole sea," a quote used to explain how an obsession might seem like a quick moment, but is often much deeper. One of my favorite themes in art is love as a sickness, which is one of the main reasons that I like Nabokov. Often, when he writes about love, it's not even love at all, but extreme longing—an obsession, a madness. He has a gift for making that obsession feel strangely beautiful and elegant, no matter how disturbing the reality of it is. The line "I gave everything up, but not you" is pure Nabokovian obsession if I've ever heard it.

I could honestly go through each song like this, but I think these ones capture much of what I want to say. This is beyond an exhilarating album—it's a deeply human album. The music is dynamic, intricate, and captivating. It simultaneously provides the complexity that is so crucial to prog, while giving you the catchy hooks of pop. 

I was lucky to see Steven Wilson when tickets were just $35. He's going to play in Philly in October, but tickets are starting at over $200 for the Saturday performance. However, it could be worth it, because 1) Wilson was one of the best artists I have seen live, 2) The audience at his concerts is 85% men with facial hair who'd love to spend the night talking to you about music. If that is your type, it could be a good investment in your future, but then again, that describes almost everyone I've met from the blog. So maybe just shoot your shots in the comments? I hear Zach is single, that is, unless he's already eloped with Danielle Haim.