Steven Wilson Retrospective Part 6: No-Man - "Loveblows & Lovecries: A Confession" (Ma
- Andrew J. Harper
- Jun 23, 2018
- 5 min read
No-Man is a collaborative duo between Steven Wilson and a singer named Tim Bowness that can be best described as art-pop. By pop, I don’t mean the contemporary American sense of pop. Rather, I mean a European mode of pop that would be right at home with artists such as David Bowie, Phil Collins, Peter Gabriel, Kate Bush, David Byrne, and The Smiths—a mode of pop that grabs one’s initial attention as catchy, but subsequent listens uncover more and more layers. The best way of describing it as different from other forms of complex compositions is to describe art-pop as vertically dense while longer compositions are horizontally complex.
On a technical note, there are very different track listings depending on what version of the album you have. I’m going by the track listing for the LP/Cassette release.
“Loveblow” + “Only Baby” (5:11)
“Loveblow” starts with the presence of a beautiful-sounding string section, but it’s merely an introduction to lead into “Only Baby,” the first piece with lyrics.
“Only Baby” exhibits an electronica-based sound. In fact, this song would fit right at home at a club…at least the verses. The choruses switch to balladry with the string section. Throughout this, Steven plays a funk-esque rhythm on guitar while bass and guitar play steady rhythms.
A note on Tim Bowness’s vocals that I can tell already is that his voice is at a lower range than Steven Wilson’s. As for lyrics, this one is a straightforward ‘silly love song,’ but I suppose you could look at as about an unhealthy dependency on one’s partner. Regardless of interpretation, they’re clear as crystal in the mix—which is the most pristine one Steven has made up to this point—and every word is able to be heard.
“Housekeeping” (5:29)
Airy keyboards and mournful strings introduce this one slowly before a brisk beat becomes added to the mix. Over the top of this comes Tim’s vocals floating like a feather just above it, not taking away from it but noticeable. After a bit, there’s a bit of a break punctuated by piano—this leads to a gorgeous second verse:
We looked at the sea.
Sat on the edge.
I gripped your hand until my fingers hurt.
Now somebody screams on the same dirty beach;
He throws down his arms
And he falls to the sand.
The words themselves—a juxtaposition between love and death—don’t make that verse gorgeous. Rather, it’s the way that Tim delivers it and the layers of piano that give it a punctuating emphasis that wasn’t there in the first verse.
After that, the song darkens a little for a version of chorus, but then electric guitar finally enters—awash with some sort of effects and in the mix in a wavy way akin to that of shoegaze, it soon cuts out. Then, the drum rhythm adds a galloping effect to the kick pedals for the third chorus. Then, everything drops out except for an aching keyboard set that continues for the last minute of the song.
“Sweetheart Raw” (6:04)
The first thing that one notices here is the awesome fretless bassline delivered by the late Mick Karn. Then Tim Bowness comes in delivers the lyrics in a bored monotone…appropriate because lyrically, this song is pretty dour. The mildest way I can put it is that the woman described in the song is a down-in-the-dumps alcoholic. Then, there’s this last verse:
She sees her children
Crushed beneath her coward feet.
Still not forgiven,
She’s broken by her heart’s sweet beat.
Damn. As someone who has felt guilt and remorse, I can definitely relate to those line. That being said, the chorus is a gorgeous piece of work where Tim lets his all out. The more I go through this album, the more I think that he has qualities as a vocalist that Steven Wilson doesn’t—appropriately so, since Steven also has different vocal qualities than Tim does.
After the last chorus, this song becomes a soundscape for a while…only to be punctuated by nightmarish guitar bits from Steven, which leads to a guitar solo at the end of this.
“Lovecry” (4:52)
This track starts with synth punctuated by a drum loop, leading into a verse. What makes this song are the little flourishes of various instruments—subtle touches that take a careful ear to notice. A good example would be the saxophone in the second verse/chorus sequence. All these little details mean that even with a seemingly-repetitive verse/chorus structure, none of the repetitions are a 1:1 recreation of what came before. That Tim Bowness is on top-form here is only icing on the cake.
“Tulip” (3:56)
A sample that sounds a lot like the start of Yes’s “Roundabout” begins this song, but it breaks into a frantic and jazzy drum rhythm which gives Tim his ground to deliver his lyrics. The little flourishes add color to this song and make it special: the swing rhythms that the various layers of flute, fiddle, guitar, bass and keyboard follow in in-and-out undulating patterns make this one compulsively listenable. Steven arranges and picks his instruments with the sense of a composer here. The only thing to complain about is that this track ends a little too soon.
“Break Heaven” (4:59)
This songs opens with a very funk-like guitar rhythm, which is complimented by the drums and bass. Then, Tim’s smoky vocals come into the mix. I can definitely say that this doesn’t sound like anything else on the album. Regardless, the principle of nothing being a 1:1 replication of what appears earlier in the song still applies—a good example includes the fast piano arpeggios that pop up in the second chorus and last through the guitar solo and to the end of the song.
“Beautiful and Cruel” (4:48)
This one just breaks immediately into vocals after the opening drum fill. It also sounds the sunniest in terms of tone. But the lyrics definitely aren’t—they’re about how easy it is to wind up in an abusive relationship without expecting it and how hard it is to get out of it. At the same time, the song sounds like you’re in a dream. This creates an audio representation of Stockholm Syndrome that makes this ditty rather unsettling. Such a juxtaposition would be a trick that Steven would later apply to Porcupine Tree in tracks such as “This Is No Rehearsal” (although that example is arguably even more worse for reasons that’ll be addressed once we tackle Stupid Dream).
“Painting Paradise” (7:32)
Unfortunately, I couldn’t find this one on YouTube and I don’t have a copy of the original album. So I’m going to have to skip this one for now.
“Heaven’s Break” (4:01)
This one starts with several layers of keyboard being played at once—one of which sounds like it has a delay effect on it. As Tim comes in, the strings follow while bass chimes in with harmonics. Soon after, some clean-toned guitar arrives for the first chorus. From there, you’re already swept up in the lush spell of this song’s undulating patterns. Just in time for a discordant fiddle solo to end the album.
Final Thoughts:
This is an elegant little project of Steven’s that serves as another avenue for his sound. Tim Bowness is a good fit vocally to work with Steven and the arrangements remain dense while still following a traditional pop structure—a trait that will also come into play with Blackfield. Overall, this is a solid album, but I’m told there are even better albums from No-Man later down the road.
NEXT TIME: Porcupine Tree - "Up The Downstair" (June 7, 1993)
Now we're finally reaching Porcupine Tree's Unsung Eight and for that, the reviews for Porcupine Tree albums will be getting significantly more in-depth than anything I've done on this blog up to now. Particularly once I reach the Big Five (Stupid Dream, Lightbulb Sun, In Absentia, Deadwing, and Fear of a Blank Planet) and especially with In Absentia onward. Of course I'm excited to go over every nook-and-cranny of these albums, but if you think I've gone in-depth so far...think again!
Comments