One record at a time: 551. No-Man - Swagger (Lost Not Lost Volume One: 1989-1990)

“Swagger” is a compilation of early No-Man material released as a companion piece to the "Housekeeping” box set. Both appeared in 2024, but while “Housekeeping” offered a glossy and comprehensive view of the band’s output for the OLI label between 1990 and 1994, “Swagger” rummaged through the cupboards and exposed the raw underbelly: studio experiments and early recordings made in 1989 and 1990, before No-Man had a record deal or, in some cases, a convincing idea of what No-Man should sound like.

In some ways, issuing these recordings is a brave move. They are raw, unpolished and date from a period when lead singer Tim Bowness affected a gruff, hairy-chested baritone that contrasts wildly with the soft, lyrical voice for which he is known today. It is rather like a novelist publishing the story they wrote for an A-level exam, or opening their teenage diary to the public. The only difference is that writers do not usually get to press the evidence onto shiny sky-blue vinyl. Whilst this record looks nice, the sound reproduction isn't the best and it is issued in a PVC sleeve whose seams seem to fall apart if you so much as look at it the wrong way.

Proceedings begin with a song that would lend its name to the band’s finest album, despite never being in any danger of appearing on it. “Flowermouth” is a frenetic piece driven by distorted guitar and very loud drums, and was originally included on a four-track, cassette-only EP sold at the band’s early gigs. Songs like this find No-Man caught awkwardly between synthpop, rock and the lusher atmospheres that would later become their trademark. The position was apparently so uncomfortable that they were still using the rather limp name No-Man Is an Island, which sounds less like a band and more like a disappointing team-building exercise.

The second track, “Bleed”, sounds typical of No-Man’s more recent output, although Tim’s vocal flits wildly between his gravely rock persona and the natural tone we hear today, as if two versions of him have turned up for the same session. “Life Is Everywhere” shows the green shoots of the arty pop sound for which the band would become known, while “Mouth Was Blue” is a polished production dragged down by the eighties trappings draped over it. There is a good song in there; it is simply wearing too much upholstery. The fifth track, “Curtain Dream”, was recorded during the same sessions as the first four but remained unused until this release. It was re-recorded for another collection of early material, “Speak”, in 1999, leaving this original version to sit on the shelf for thirty-five years. 

The final four tracks begin with “Learn to Fear”, whose bassline sounds as though it has been lifted from Front Line Assembly or Skinny Puppy. Tim’s vocal and Steven Wilson’s fondness for high-pitched, piercing snare drums soon banish any notion that the song has much in common with Canadian industrial music. “See No Angels” throws in trip-hop grooves and plastic Korg piano sounds that sit slightly out of place; a few well-judged mutes on the mixing desk might have turned it into something capable of holding its head high on an album as accomplished as “Flowermouth”. “Sit Silent” is a highly arty, abstract piece reminiscent of something Sakamoto might have produced, while closing track “Swirl” was issued as an extra track on a single. B-side material is probably a fair assessment of its status, which at least saves everybody the embarrassment of pretending it was a lost masterpiece.

So this is an album for completists and collectors. Existing fans will find it fascinating, and some may even like it. Personally, I am glad it exists, in much the same way I am glad my teenage photographs exist: safely stored, occasionally inspected and in no danger of joining the regular rotation. 2.5/5

One record at a time: 550. No-Man - Loveblows & Lovecries: A Confession

Back in 1994, I discovered No-Man through their seminal masterpiece, "Flowermouth". Keen to hear more of the band I sought out their debut album, "Loveblows & Lovecries: A Confession" that had been released 12 months earlier. After a short but frustrating pursuit I managed to find a copy of the limited-edition double CD in HMV. 

Yet when I popped the disc in the CD player and pressed play, I became thoroughly confused. Instead of more sophisticated, spine-tingling pop, I got angular, lurching rhythms and complex, meandering melodies that never quite caught fire. Even the artwork seemed dull and lifeless. Combined with the pretentious title and toe-curling sleeve notes, the whole package felt less like a musical landmark and more like a sixth-form art project that had somehow secured a record deal.

Fast-forward more years than I care to mention and I rediscovered the album thanks to a disappointment. While mooching around my favourite second-hand record shop, I turned a corner and saw one of my Pet Shop Boys collecting holy grails clinging to the wall in one of those PVC sleeves reserved for records that are about to cause a domestic argument. I carried my treasure to the counter with another other selection I had made. The owner immediately took the Pet Shop Boys record from my hands and said, "Oh no, I’ve already sold that to a lady who just came in and reserved it for her boyfriend." I gave the polite laugh one uses when a joke is taking slightly too long and reached for my credit card. We locked eyes. He placed the record behind the counter and repeated, "Sorry, that one is sold." 

Apparently moved by the sight of a grown man becoming visibly crestfallen over a Pet Shop Boys record, the owner offered an olive branch, "Tell you what, by way of an apology, take that other one for free." So I left with a complimentary copy of No-Man’s "Only Baby", which was not the treasure I had entered the shop seeking but was at least considerably cheaper. I knew the song, of course, but because it appeared on "Loveblows & Lovecries" I had rarely played it. Still, I felt I owed my unexpected gift at least one spin.

As the opening bars began, I found the familiarity comforting and also realised that the song was much better than I remembered. I decided to revisit the parent album to see whether I had been too harsh all those years ago. I cannot pretend that I now like this album as much as "Flowermouth", but I do like it enough to buy this transparent teal vinyl limited-edition reissue from 2026, complete with a poster. This is, of course, exactly what every middle-aged man needs: a giant 30-year-old photograph of three slightly fey young men for the living-room wall. The vinyl itself is yet another GZ Media abomination, although it sounds acceptable once thoroughly cleaned and approached with suitably modest expectations of sonic fidelity.

As "Sweetheart Raw" begins, the first thing you notice is the superb fretless bass, which oozes quality. A glance at the credits reveals Mick Karn, prompting the inevitable response: of course it is. Richard Barbieri is credited on keyboards and Steve Jansen handles the drum programming, effectively turning the track into a No-Man composition performed by most of Japan. At this point, my younger self begins to look less discerning and more wilfully inattentive. Why on earth didn’t I listen to this more?

"Lovecries" is a fine composition, but the funky rhythm programming feels forced and out of place. Underneath it sits the natural sound of No-Man, apparently being prodded towards the dance floor by someone from the record company holding a clipboard. Art rock and early-1990s trip hop were not impossible bedfellows, but here they seem to have spent the night arguing over the duvet.

"Tulip" shoehorns in some Nellee Hooper-style piano riffs, while Steven Wilson offers a creditable Nile Rodgers impression. There is more funky guitar on "Break Heaven" which gives the song a lift, but the ill-suited TR-909 beats do little for "Beautiful and Cruel". The album’s finest moment is the closing track, "Heaven’s Break", which sounds much closer to the No-Man of "Flowermouth" that I fell in love with. It is telling that the less the production tries to sound fashionable, the more timeless the music becomes.

I do like this album, but I remain frustrated by the make-up it wears. I can hear the real No-Man beneath the beats and housey piano riffs, yet it often feels as though record-company demands led them to repaint their compositions until they were barely recognisable. Tracks such as "Heaven’s Break" sound genuinely unsullied and are all the better for it. So my younger self was not entirely wrong: "Loveblows & Lovecries" is still awkward, over-dressed and occasionally desperate to impress. What I missed was the quality underneath. It was not a sixth-form art-rock project after all, although the sleeve notes may still deserve detention. 2.5/5

One record at a time: 505. Tim Bowness - Powder Dry

When I first heard a snippet of opening track "Rock Hudson" on social media, I was immediately struck by the bombastic drums and discordant synth textures supporting Tim’s vocal. It was one of those moments where your brain goes yes, I want more of that, and before I knew it I had pre-ordered the limited edition pink vinyl. When the record was released in 2024 it came with a signed postcard, another smaller copy of the same postcard and an art print of the sleeve. Luckily I like the image, otherwise this might have felt like overkill. Oh wait...

Produced by Tim alone, "Powder Dry" immediately feels like he has found a much broader sonic palette than on its predecessor. Everything sounds sharper and more confident. There are no supporting musicians credited and to be honest Tim sounds so much better without a traditional band in a room plodding away behind him. Most tracks are short and nothing outstays its welcome. It is a snappy, tight record that knows exactly what it wants to do.

Steven Wilson, fellow No-Man member and professional sound whisperer, chips in with mixing and editing to make sure everything holds together and carries a sense of credibility. It does make me reflect that we may not actually need more No-Man albums. Tim seems to make them perfectly well on his own, with occasional help from his best mate. 

Second track "Lost / Not Lost" is minimalist in approach and is driven by a melody that worms its way into your head with suspicious efficiency. "Idiots at Large" shows how much imagination Tim brings when left to his own devices. "A Stand Up for the Dying" could easily have turned into yet another earnest band recording, but instead Tim’s solo guitar is cushioned by atmospheric synths, and all the double bass and complicated drumming of previous albums has been quietly shown the exit.

On the flip side, "Summer Turned" sounds exactly as the title suggests. Light, bright and summery. "Films of Our Youth" works as an instrumental companion to "The Film of Your Youth" which feels neatly intentional. "I Was There" has superb drum samples and imaginative programming and is one of the album’s highlights for me. Only the title track disappoints slightly, but something has to come last.

In the end, this album feels like Tim finally shrugged off anything that might have held him back and simply made the record he wanted to make. It is focused, imaginative and far more interesting than yet another polite band effort. If anything, it shows that Tim on his own, armed with some synths, a bit of guitar and a friend in the mixing booth, is more than enough. 3.5/5

One ecord at a time: 504. Tim Bowness - Butterfly Mind

It dawned on me, somewhat alarmingly, that this record came out four years ago, which means I have been blogging about my collection for at least that long. Time clearly flies when you are busy collecting limited edition vinyl with the enthusiasm of a slightly unhinged magpie. 

This particular specimen arrives on 180 gram transparent green wax, tucked inside a die cut sleeve, and is hand numbered to just six hundred copies. Pressed by Optimal in Germany, it sounds lovely, and the package even includes a CD, a signed postcard and a fridge magnet. Obviously. Because what self respecting limited edition would dare show its face without a fridge magnet these days.

Before you drop the needle, a word of advice. If your ears have recently been exposed to anything resembling pop or rock, take a moment to reset. Maybe breathe deeply. Maybe stare thoughtfully into the middle distance because, aside from a couple of tracks, the album is a drifting, laid back, prog tinged wander through soft laments and gentle instrumentation. Nick Beggs pops in to provide some bass, Ian Anderson contributes woodwind, and Steven Wilson, who presumably pops round for tea often enough to count as family, handles the mix. At times it is so reminiscent of No-Man that I half expected the packaging to apologise for the confusion.

The opening track, "Say Your Goodbyes Part 1", sets the tone nicely with a delicate start that eventually firms up into something a little crunchier. "It’s Easier to Love" is pleasant but overstays its welcome by several minutes. "Lost Player" floats along in a wistful, elegiac haze and boasts a melody I genuinely adore. This dreamy spell is abruptly shattered by the synth bass stomp and monosynths of "Only a Fool", propelled by drumming that appears to be fuelled by three coffees and several cans of energy drink. 

"Glitter Fades" perks things up with some catchy drum programming that helps break the overall spell of drifting sameness, but many of the other tracks struggle to make such a distinct impression. There is no faulting the performances and plenty of the songs are undeniably pretty, yet the whole experience drifts into a slightly bland, monochrome haze. Dare I say it, by the end I found myself growing a little weary of those endlessly soft and gentle vocal tones.

A beautiful record, thoughtfully assembled, and unquestionably atmospheric. Just be prepared to float for quite a while. And do not forget your fridge magnet. 2.5/5

One record at a time: 289. No-Man - Love You To Bits

By the time 2019 rolled around I'd rather given up on No-Man. It had been eleven years since their last album and both Tim and Steven seemed to be happy pursuing solo projects. 

To be honest I didn't really lament the lack of output from the band as their last efforts had left me feeling a little bored. Whilst the art-rock of "Schoolyard Ghosts" and the ambience of "Together We Are Stranger" might have their place, I longed for something with a pulse. I had no idea what to expect from this new album, but the sound that greeted my ears as I dropped the needle on this blue vinyl for the first time took my breath away.

Not only was there immediately the sound of a pounding bass drum, but it was augmented with analogue percussion that sounded just like "Ice Machine" by Depeche Mode. A driving synth bass rumbles under Tim's distinctive vocals as he sings of loving someone, "like I don't love you at all". "Love Me To Bits (Bit 1)" and its coda "Bit 2" left me dumbfounded and just a little bit emotional at how totally triumphant this record sounded. 

"Bit 3" kicks into life with some excellent drumming and Steven's precise guitar work before "Bit 4" heralds the return of the synths and a new leitmotif. Side one finishes with a reprise of the rumbling Moroder-esque synth bass from "Bit 1" but with a sprinkling of new lyrics.

The flip side opens with the subdued introduction of "Love You To Pieces (Piece 1)" in which Tim sings of a sticky love that left him weak. As the TR-808 style hit hats kick in, I can't help but anticipate the electronic tricks that Steven Wilson is about to pull out of the bag. Yes, we are hearing the same melody that was used on the first side, but the clever arrangement and Tim's constant development of the lyrics mean things never become boring.

"Piece 2" opens with an aggressive bassline and delivers one of the most amazing electric piano solos you'll ever hear. "Piece 3" continues to develop the relentless groove until things disintegrate into the welcome ambience of "Part 4" and "Part 5". For me this return to a more melodic and synth driven sound is manna from heaven. Also not to be missed is the magical "Love You To Shreds 1-3" on the single of "Bit 1". Amazing. I want more. 5/5

One record at a time: 288. Mo-Man - Schoolyard Ghosts

This album is another ponderous beast that explores the musical wilderness between art-rock and prog-rock. My copy is a 2015 remastered version split across 2 LPs.

Opening tracks "All Sweet Things" and "Beautiful Songs You Should Know" are kitchen sink dramas played out on acoustic guitar, piano and Tim's distinctive vocal tones. These song neither offend nor ignite the imagination.

"Pigeon Drummer" begins as a slow and quiet instrumental before suddenly exploding into a sea of tom drums and squealing guitars. This might have seemed like a neat trick when it was conceived but it only serves to destroy the mood for me. 

There's some wonderful strings on the first part of "Truenorth" which eventually combine with a welcome hip hop beat. As Tim sings of surrendering to the night and the orchestra swells, you realise this is one of the best songs No-Man have recorded in many years. Yes, it is overly long at twelve minutes (maybe they could have chopped out one or two of the jazz flute solos), but it will reward those who persevere.

"Wherever There Is Light" lost my interest the second a pedal steel guitar began howling but "Song of the Surf" is much more interesting and has a great melody. There's another trace of a beat on "Streaming" but the pedal steel guitar comes in to ruin any promise the composition might have shown. The final track "Mixtaped" is far too self indulgent and, whilst the band might have had great fun recording it, it's not much fun to listen to. There are three bonus tracks on side four but none of them stand out particularly. All the marks for this album go to the majestic "Truenorth", everything else is fairly superfluous. 2/5

One record at a time: 287. No-Man - Together We're Stranger

"Together We're Stranger" was released in 2003 and here I am listening to the 2015 remastered version. Unfortunately this pressing suffers from an issue with near constant clicks and pops throughout. I am yet to put these discs through my cheap and cheerful Disco-antistat cleaner, but I'm not convinced it would make much difference.

If this were a normal pop record full of rhythms and busy backing tracks, the additional noise wouldn't be of major concern, but as this is an intimate and atmospheric recording, the surface noise detracts from the experience quite considerably.

I think there is something magical going on here but I haven't yet discovered the key to unlock it. Sometimes an album can reveal itself through repeated listening, but I find that so hard to do in this day and age - so I fear I will never fully appreciate this record. "All The Blue Changes" is probably the most immediate track on here and I guess this is because it is also the only track on the album that creeps above eighty beats per minute. Don't get me wrong, not everything has to be a frenetic dance track, but these songs don't do enough to pique my interest so they can be like wadding through treacle. 2/5

One record at a time: 286. No-Man - Returning Jesus

As a number of albums from the No-Man back catalogue have not been released on vinyl, we have to skip to 2001’s "Returning Jesus". I am listening to the 2017 remastered version, which sounds fantastic.

Things begin with the magical "Only Rain", which recycles the strings from an earlier track, "Watching Over Me". As the song moves through its phases, you cannot help but marvel at the invention and beauty on offer. There is some added vinyl noise for the intro of "No Defence", which revolves around Steven’s guitar arpeggios and some deliberately listless drumming by Steve Jansen.

By far the best track here is "Close Your Eyes", which is capable of sending a shudder down your spine. At the start, Tim sings over basic organ chords and percussion before synth pads and guitar licks lift the chorus to a new level. In a way, this is typical progressive rock, as the song builds and builds until it reaches a searing guitar solo that gives way to an extended instrumental, but it sounds more glorious than that description suggests.

"Carolina Skeletons" is a sad, reflective piece that was released on an EP a full three years before the album. The other tracks from the EP appear on the flip side of the second record and add value to this package.

"Outside The Machine" centres on jazz-influenced piano chords and the superlative drumming of Steve Jansen once again. The title track, "Returning Jesus", sees Steven Wilson work his genius with tuned percussion and a guitar that sounds uncannily like Mike Oldfield. Songs like "Lighthouse" and "Slow It All Down" give me the feeling that Steven is driving this part of the album and, as he weaves Hammond organ and Mellotron sounds into the mix, it feels very much like an ode to prog rock. We finish with another single, "All That You Are", which once again revolves around Steven’s guitar arpeggios and Tim’s intimate vocal. Good stuff. 3.5/5

One record at a time: 285. No-Man - Flowermouth

In the summer of 2004 I wrote a long post on my then website about the No-Man album "Flowermouth". It was an unashamedly gushing piece about one of my favourite albums. The original text described the start of the love affair thus:

I bought "Flowermouth" on the back of hearing “Simple” on a demo CD given away with a magazine in 1994. I kept coming back to the song and every time I heard it, I loved it more. I bought the album on a trip into town one weekday and little did I know my life was about to change.

Historically, one of my only laments about this album was that I didn't own it on vinyl. However, I have recently managed to acquire a copy of the double LP at a reasonable price and can review it here. 

The first track "Angel gets caught in the beauty trap" opens with a distinctive harp theme that gives way to the superlative piano and strings which haunt this piece. Bowness’s vocal moves in almost unnoticed like any other musical instrument, “I can not dream for the dirt on my hands”. Ambience and subtlety abound. By the time the songs ends you have just experienced nearly 10 minutes of bliss.
 
"You grow more beautiful" kicks off with beats that will satisfy your yearning for something different. The song moves between dance, rock and the avant-garde in a way no other can. This would have been a great single but I get the feeling One Little Indian had given up on the band by the time this album was released.

Having had your ambient song and your upbeat (ish) single we move on to the kitchen sink drama in the form of "Animal Ghost". Rumbling TR-808 rhythms keep an almost electro edge to a song which even manages to incorporate a flute solo. There's a funky bassline on the brilliant "Soft Shoulders" and the lyrics to "Shell of A Fighter" are endearing and mystifying at the same time. 

One of my favourite tracks is "Teardrop Fall". Electronic riffs move alongside sweeping strings and crunchy guitars. This song is about feelings. Not theirs but yours. Another single that never was. "Watching over me" provides a change of pace and proves that No-Man have more tricks up their sleeve.

"Simple" is the song that started my love affair with this album. Bowness and Wilson felt this was an ordinary pop song until Robert Fripp became involved. Personally I think it would be a masterpiece with or without him. The Lisa Gerrard sample is exactly what you would expect; haunting. The thumping beats combine with the superlative synth lines to make a perfect piece of music. The lyrics are on another level; “No more dreams turn into armchairs again”. The strange thing is, I know exactly what he means; it’s so simple. Things round out with the lament of  "Things change" which is sorrowful and touching.

I love this album and this record is one of the most treasured items in my collection. There hasn't been a repress of this record since it was released in 1994, but I don't love this record simply because it is rare; I cherish it because of the music it contains. More recent CD pressings contain remixes of some songs that were created in 1999. So whilst I pray for a new pressing, I would prefer it to contain the 'right' mixes. 5/5

UPDATE NOVEMBER 2024: So there has now been a reissue of this album (I like to think my pestering of the record company on X had something to do with it), but predictably they have used the 1999 remixes and the credits on the sleeve seem to be wrong in places. On the plus side it is available on red vinyl and comes with a free poster. So now we can all hear this this beauty from vinyl; you have no excuse.

One record at a time: 34. Tim Bowness - Flowers at the Scene

If you've read any of my other posts about Tim Bowness albums, you won't be surprised to hear this is a limited edition, signed, hand numbered, 180g transparent red vinyl. However, for the first time in this process I feel like I'm flagging - the going is a bit tough. That's not to say that I dislike Tim Bowness's albums, but they are like a rich chocolate truffle: best consumed in small quantities. Having gorged on four consecutive Bowness albums I'm feeling a little nauseous at the thought of more. Happily, once the needle dropped on "Flowers at the Scene" my appetite returned. This is a brilliant album

Unlike the crude monochrome sound of antecedent "Lost in the Ghost Light", this album is expertly produced by No-Man and Brian Hulse. Almost all of these songs are beautifully realised with immaculate arrangements and instrumentation. Even if some songs aren't to my taste, I am still able to appreciate how well they are put together. Obviously a credit to No-Man must mean the presence of  Steve Wilson. With Steve playing, producing, programming and mixing alongside Tim writing and singing the songs, this is only one step removed from being a No-Man album. 

Opening track, "I Go Deeper" features thundering drums and a restrained electric guitar to accompany Tim's tale about moving on. There are various synths providing strings and background textures that add a richness sorely missed on Tim's other albums. "The Train That Pulled Away" opens with a chugging string arrangement and proceeds to take us on a journey that leads back to the start. The drums and synth textures on the beautiful "Rainmark" are all redolent of Steve Wilson. "You're Not Married Anymore" is a middle aged lament similar to those found on "Abandoned Dancehall Dreams" and represents the first drop in quality on the album. The title track is unremarkable art-rock that is a little disappointing. Things turn even more 'guitar' with "It's the World" which features prog rock royalty in the form of Peter Hammill from Van Der Graaf Generator. Normal service is resumed with the excellent "Boderline", and "Ghostlike" which sounds like companion piece to "I Go Deeper". The pace slows with the next rack "The War One Me" which promises little at the beginning but the excellent production allows an atmospheric song to emerge. I may be mistaken but I'm sure I heard a four-on-the-floor bass drum on the chorus of "Killing to Survive". Whilst it isn't exactly a high energy romp, this song does have more of a pulse than the majority of Tim's output. The album then peters out with the disappointing "What Lies Here". Despite the lack lustre ending, this is a great album and the expert production sets it apart from the rest of Tim's solo offerings. 3/5

One record at a time: 30. Tim Bowness - Abandoned Dancehall Dreams

"Abandoned Dancehall Dreams" was released in 2014 and is Tim's second solo album. I own the standard black vinyl and the hand numbered white version (minus the essay and the postcard that were originally included in the package). 

I have no idea what genre this record is classified as, but it is certainly the most 'rock' album we have encountered thus far. Having listened to so much electronic music, the introduction of real drums, bass guitar and violin takes some getting used to. I have to 'get in the mood' for albums like these and they definitely benefit from your undivided attention.

I had adjusted by the third track "Songs of Distant Summers" which features haunting vocals that float above a hypnotic piano refrain. I love these captivating songs that somehow seem to transport you to a little cloud. To me, this is where Tim is at his best. Other highlights include "Smiler at 52"  which tingles with atmosphere and illustrates how poetic Tim's lyrics are. The nine minutes of "I Fought the South" seem to fly by and the wistful "Dancing for you" leaves me wanting to know more about the character in the song .  

There are no dance tracks or upbeat diversions here. This album is pure unadulterated, shoe gazing art rock for the middle aged. When the world seems to be spinning too fast this is a perfect listen. 3/5

No-Man - too good to ignore

In the summer of 2004 I wrote a long post on my then website about the No-Man album "Flowermouth". It was an unashamedly gushing love poem to a piece of work that remains my favourite album. The original article described the start of the love affair thus:

"I bought it on the back of hearing “Simple” on a demo CD given away with a magazine in 1994. I kept coming back to the song and every time I heard it I loved it more and more. I bought the album on a trip into town one weekday; little did I know my life was about to change. I put the CD on and sat down. I moved about an hour later once the CD had finished. Can you name the last CD you sat and listened to all the way through on the day you bought it? I didn’t move. I simply stared at my stereo, awe struck that such a thing of beauty existed."

(I still have that magazine cover CD as I later realised it contained a different mix of “Simple” that I haven’t heard anywhere else. If only I’d had enough foresight to also go out and buy the album on vinyl – it can go for a pretty penny in this over inflated ‘vinyl resurgence’ market.)

Anyway, I bought almost every No-Man release from 1994 onwards and picked up a copy of their first album too. I joined their mailing list (snail mail in those days) and ordered some of the first Burning Shed releases in 2001. Whilst on the mailing list I received a postcard (as was the way back then) advertising a new project by Steven Wilson called “Bass Communication” and caught increasing references to a band called “Porcupine Tree”. However, these were mere sideshows to the main draw and I ignored them (although bizarrely I did buy “Flame” by Barbieri/Bowness – an album that seems inexplicably ignored and has never been reissued). 

And then these side projects seemed to gather momentum and No-Man’s output began to tail off. I guess that “Returning Jesus” was the artistic zenith and, whilst it was not an absolute valedictory, it has been hard to surpass. I moved onto Tim’s solo work and continue to enjoy it very much - it almost fills the No-Man shaped hole in my life. But make no mistake: I am a first and foremost, a fan of No-Man.

Consequently, I now find it strange when I see promotional material and hype stickers attached to No-Man releases referring to “Porcupine Tree’s Steven Wilson” - with a brief mention of some Bowness fellow. It is even stranger to see people weighing up No-Man’s efforts as “a place to dig deeper if you admire Steven Wilson’s work.”

I freely admit to never having heard any music by Porcupine Tree or any of Steven’s solo albums. Weird, given that I have always followed Tim’s efforts outside of No-Man – but I don’t intend on changing this approach. Primarily because No-Man deserve all my attention (there’s no such thing as one listen when it comes to the new vinyl edition of “Returning Jesus”) and secondly because I am afraid I will like Wilson’s ‘other’ work; and my bank balance can’t take a hit like that.