Steven Wilson Retrospective Part 10: No-Man - "Wild Opera" (September 1996)
- Andrew J. Harper
- Jun 29, 2018
- 10 min read
No-Man’s third album Wild Opera tends to be viewed as the duo’s experimental album. It also tends to be hit-and-miss with fans of the duo. While there are a couple of albums later on from No-Man which apparently rival Flowermouth as their masterpiece, Wild Opera is hardly ever mentioned as one of those. In today’s post, maybe I’ll find out why that is.
As a note, I’ll be covering the track listing for the original album. The 2010 remaster makes the Dry Cleaning Ray EP (recorded in the same sessions as Wild Opera) as a second disc, making Wild Opera a double album. I’m not covering the material on Dry Cleaning Ray because of my decision to only cover LP’s, not EP’s.
“Radiant City” (3:31)
This opening track starts with the sound of a lever and then some old-time recording before morphing into a beat that is more like a trip-hop recording than anything on previous No-Man albums. Steven’s mutant-like guitar makes things all-the-more unsettling. Then the saxophone of Mel Collins crawls over things before a break comes where wind-chimes are struck. Tim Bowness’s vocals arrive and he sounds restrained compared to usual—like a whispering Trent Reznor
Once the bigger break occurs, Natalie Box’s demented violins are discernable alongside a wave of out-there guitar from Steven Wilson that plays the song out.
This song sets the tone for Wild Opera. Sounding like a lost Pretty Hate Machine track, it makes it clear that Wild Opera is—on a sonic level—a darker and more experimental affair than Flowermouth.
“Pretty Genius” (3:51)
This song starts slower than the last, with a steady and smooth drum rhythm supported by bass and acoustic guitar. Soon, Tim provides some falsetto for the verses. Some icy synths come in for the chorus. After the chorus ends, some flute enters the fray while Natalie Box arrives on violin. Then, a flanger effect marks the transition into the next verse-chorus unit.
Once the next chorus elapses, the flutes re-enter for some flourishes. But then, the title is sung over this rhythm for the outro.
This is definitely a song that would fit comfortably on Flowermouth than “Radiant City” would, something which shows that No-Man are not departing from their old sound. Rather, this album constitutes an expansion of their sonic territory.
“Infant Phenomenon” (3:21)
A brisk drum rhythm starts this one off while a heavily-distorted bass line bubbles beneath Tim Bowness’s processed vocals. Some guitar pops up here-and-there. Guitar comes to the fully for the chorus (“Sickening sensation of love”). Some electronic noise marks a transition from the chorus to the next verse-chorus unit.
After the second chorus, there’s a mess of a flanger-drenched guitar solo on top of the chorus riff. And like that, the song ends as Tim Bowness says “She dances so well.”
One thing I’m noticing is that the explorative territory this album goes for comes at the cost of the level of detail which made the arrangements of Flowermouth stand out. Not necessarily a bad thing, but that is a big difference. If Flowermouth was Rumours, then Wild Opera aims for a sprawl akin to Tusk.
“Sinister Jazz” (4:48)
This song begins with some ghost-like keyboards, followed by jazz-like drums. This leads into Tim Bowness’s vocals in the first verse, which soar over the instruments despite being under heavy reverb. The chorus has discordant guitar and flute in the picture—which make for an unsettling atmosphere as Tim whispers “You’re never going home” just before the verse rhythm resumes.
After the second chorus, some saxophone is played over the verse rhythm. Then, the instruments besides sax drop out. After which, an evil laugh sounds and the band returns. This time, there’s cozy-yet-eerie synth layers covering it. After a while, Tim says “You’re never going home” again and again. Following that, there’s some guitar flourishes coming from Steven as the song begins to fade out.
Honestly, this eerie number adds to the song variety of Wild Opera. But the atmosphere in this reminds me a little of “Gravity Eyelids,” a song Steven would later write for Porcupine Tree. I wouldn’t call that self-plagiarism because there are different instruments and notes being used, but the general feeling elicited from both is similar—unsettlement.
“Housewives Hooked on Heroin” (4:39)
This song immediately starts with Tim’s vocals, supported by percussion, synth bass, and keyboard. After this introduction, some guitar drones enters the fray, then some added percussion. The chorus erupts into a full-throated drum rhythm as Tim delivers the lyrics in his usual manner. Then, the next verse has a compression effect on his voice—otherwise, the second verse is the same as the first. The second chorus has a fuzz-drenched riff from Steven’s guitar, but it’s just as ear-catching as the first chorus.
After the second chorus, Steven delivers a lead guitar pattern under the maelstrom of a chorus pattern. Then, Tim has a reprise of the chorus just before the song ends.
Yes, this song falls under the ‘heavier’ umbrella of songs from Wild Opera. But this song—heaviness and all—feels like it has the same compositional techniques as a Flowermouth song. Meaning that the heaviness is a coat of paint. And it’s a coat of paint that works because the lyrics of the chorus (“Not even housewives hooked on heroin/Can match my appetite for sin.”) indicate that—even if the title is a misnomer—this song is about something darker than any of the songs on Flowermouth. This song seems like a smart transition between the album’s two extremes.
“Libertine Libretto” (3:20)
Unfortunately, I couldn’t find this one on YouTube. Therefore, I couldn’t factor it into the review.
“Taste My Dream” (6:09)
A single piano playing ushers this song in a lonely introduction. As the piano develops, some melody comes about. However, the drum track soon arrives along with the verse, which Tim uses to easily glide over the instruments. This rhythm doesn’t change until after the first chorus. The transition from the first chorus to the second verse has some harmonics on guitar playing in the background before Tim comes in with a falsetto vocal delivery for the verse. This rhythm repeats for the second chorus, but with some added instrumental flourishes from guitar and keys.
Following the second chorus, there is a smooth and smooth jazz-toned solo from Steven. Then, the instruments except for keys fade out completely. Leaving keyboards alone for the last minute of the song…until some samples of Tim’s voice play at the end—leaving you a feeling of someone calling out alone in a storm.
What this song makes one feel is isolation. More than any other track on Wild Opera so far, this one is a bit of a downer. I say ‘a bit’ because it doesn’t reach the melancholic grief of some of Steven’s songs in Porcupine Tree/his solo work, but it’s a noticeable shift in mood from the other tracks.
“Dry Cleaning Ray” (3:26)
This song starts with a sunny-sounding keyboard and drum rhythm. Then, Tim arrives with the verse. Soon, Steven arrives with some clean-toned guitar and the chorus arrives—all the while, bass plays a smooth funk-like rhythm. The next verse-chorus unit is largely the same as before, but there are subtle touches of difference.
After the second chorus, a guitar solo begins from Steven over a refrain of the title repeated by Tim. This serves as the song’s outro. Indeed, this solo seems like a 50’s rock-n-roll solo—only filtered through studio technology that makes this fully 90’s.
Out of the songs on this album so fare, this one sounds like something that’d be right at home on the radio. That doesn’t make this a bad song in the slightest. In fact, that Steven could write something this radio-friendly without compromising a single thing that makes him gifted as a songwriter is admirable.
“Sheeploop” (4:01)
This song begins with a rhythm from keys, drums, and bass that wouldn’t be out of place in a Sinatra song from the 50’s. In fact, the way Tim delivers the verse seems a lot like that of the Chairman. Then, some smooth chords comes from Steven while synth effects cover the rhythm in the chorus. A small break and a brief guitar flourish mark the transition to the second verse-chorus unit. Some phaser-like effects appear in the transition from the second verse to the second chorus.
After the second chorus is finished, there is some discordant synth effects along with demented marimba. Then, all instruments beside drums and vocals drop out for a while. After a bit of silence, the instruments return and vamp for a fade-out.
While this is another track that demonstrates No-Man’s versatility in being able to take various styles of music and make them their own, I can’t shake the feeling that this track feels like filler compared to the other cuts on Wild Opera. I can’t place my finger on why, but it feels like there’s an x-factor missing from this song.
“My Rival Trevor” (4:20)
This song begins with a bit of violins before a percussion loop comes in. Then, there’s and keys coming in with the verse. Soon, guitar joins in for the second half of the verse. The chorus has the drum’s enter properly while Tim delivers a splendid set of vocals. After the first chorus, an atonal guitar solo transitions to the second verse-chorus unit.
Following the second chorus, there’s a bit of a break where guitar and keys add shading while the drums keep order. Then, some samples play before drums drop out for a bit. Then, drums and vocals come back to set up the new chorus. But, some feedback guitar stands in before the chorus begins properly. After this chorus, there’s some lead guitar going off in the background. Then, everything but a clean-toned guitar fades out as the song stops.
Overall, “My Rival Trevor” feels like the most like an alternative rock song out of any of the tracks on Wild Opera. This adds to the stylistic variety of the album and has another catchy single-that-never-was.
“Time Travel in Texas” (4:24)
*Notice: the only version I could find up on YouTube is a live version officially recorded in 2011. Granted, it’s a good live take that sounds pretty great*
My friend Katie Mullins—knowing the Texan firebrand she is—would see this song title and go “I fucking wish that Texas had that!” I had to go for an easy in-joke there.
As for the song proper, there’s a synth introduction just before drums start and some guitar effects act as a prelude for the grunge-like riff (see, another thing you like, Katie!). Then, the song simmers down for a tad for Tim’s vocals for the verse. During this verse, some discordant effects play on electric violin and guitar. Then, the band returns in full-swing for the chorus—only to cycle again for the next verse-chorus unit.
After the second chorus, the song settles down for…another chorus? Not quite. Tim may be singing the lyrics “Time travel in Texas/See where it gets us” again like in the chorus, but this is a build-up. Albeit an understated build-up because it relies on the elements of dissonant flourishes of guitars and electric violins in order to escalate until the band rejoins for the electric violin solo that concludes the song.
Regarding the song as a whole, “Time Travel in Texas” is a solid little rocker that makes good use of dissonance in order to make it stand out from your average rock tune.
“My Revenge on Seattle” (4:42)
First of all, this title is delicious given some factoids regarding some songs on future Porcupine Tree albums (namely one song on Lightbulb Sun and a couple lines in one song on Fear of a Blank Planet). But I’ll save those for when I actually review those albums.
The song itself starts with a smooth synth rhythm complemented by drums. Then, guitar enters along with Tim’s vocals (“Maybe there’s more to life than just writing songs/Maybe not”). A shift to a new rhythm (with triangles and a new layer of guitars and keys) functions as the bedrock for what is the most gorgeous-sounding chorus on the album. The bass is first discernable in the transition from this chorus to the second verse-chorus unit.
Following the conclusion of the second chorus, the kick pedal creates a dance-like rhythm while folk-esque guitar backs up an electric-guitar flourish sustained by a steady bass rhythm. This bridge section sounds like an intoxicating harmony. By the time the crash cymbal signals the third chorus, you are almost left breathless as this song comes to an end.
While this is another song that qualifies as radio-friendly, it doesn’t feel like that should be a pejorative whenever a commercial-sounding song is executed with such a flawless ear for melody as this one. While this song has less layers than nearly any song on Flowermouth, this is about as beautiful as anything on that album save “Angel Gets Caught in the Beauty Trap.”
Final Thoughts:
What No-Man does on Wild Opera is shake up the status quo of their sound. I think this album is more exploratory and spontaneous than Flowermouth was, which can be a good thing as that can lead to musical growth in the future. Lyrically, this album is bleaker than previous No-Man albums, but nowhere near as bleak as some of the lyrics Steven would write for Porcupine Tree/his solo work.
I’m not sure that such a radical re-invention this early in No-Man’s career was a wise career move for Steven Wilson and Tim Bowness. While yes, a willingness to be a Bowie-esque chameleon is a wonderful trait for any artist to have, I’m not sure if a reinvention on each album makes sense in a medium where some degree of consistency is appreciated by the masses. I think a shift like this would’ve been better off if it happened an album or two later than it did—that way, the sound/style of Flowermouth could either be refined or slightly adjusted to make the transition from Flowermouth to Wild Opera smoother. As is, regardless of this album’s quality or non-quality, I think the sheer 180 from Flowermouth to Wild Opera may be a contributor to why No-Man never became a household name.
Overall, I enjoyed Wild Opera. It isn’t as strong as Flowermouth (there’s nothing as stunning as “Angel Gets Caught In The Beauty Trap” was on that album), but it is a more varied album than Flowermouth and also one that shows avenues for growth on future No-Man albums. Earlier in this review, I compared this album to Fleetwood Mac’s Tusk (and Flowermouth to Rumors)—a statement that’s accurate. What both Wild Opera and Tusk have in common is that nearly every song demonstrates a different style than the last. While Tusk (arguably) did so out of extravagance, Wild Honey accomplishes this with versatility and deftly-constructed songs. What makes Flowermouth a superior album is the level of detail that went into every song, but there are those that will see the versatility of Wild Opera and call it a superior album. Ultimately, one should listen to both and decide for yourself. I can guarantee you that both albums are worthwhile.
The Next Five:
* Incredible Expanding Mindfuck - "I.E.M." (1996)
* Porcupine Tree - "Signify" (September 1996)
* Bass Communion - "I" (April 1998)
* Porcupine Tree - "Stupid Dream" (March 1999)
* Bass Communion - "II" (July 1999)
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