Post-1970's Prog: The Year 2006

Little Man is one of my all-time favourite The Pineapple Thief albums. But, although I love The Pineapple Thief, it took a long time for me to be able to buy this album, let alone listen to it. I almost didn’t buy it, and when I bought it, I almost didn’t listen to it.

And, although as aforementioned, this is one of my all-time favourite The Pineapple Thief albums, I still hardly ever listen to it. So since I’ve not listened to it for around three years, I’ve made myself listen to it again now.

This is an extremely beautiful, fragile, and melancholic album to listen to - whilst at the same time, in spite of the beauty and fragility, it is also dark, heavy, and sometimes almost violent. It is extremely moving. Even the cover art is extremely evocative, and triggering. I find it hard to look at, as beautiful as it is.

When my son, Toby  was born, it was a very hard time for me. We went to the hospital just to be sure, as Cherish was a little worried. We weren’t really given much information, but it was clear the hospital staff were worried, too. Cherish was rushed in for an emergency caesarean. Toby came out blue, limp, still and quiet. He was given diamorphine. We were able to see him for a little while, before he was taken away to SCUBU (or whatever it is called these days).

While Cherish was taken back to a ward for recovery, I was spoken to, and taken to see Toby. I was told that there was a good chance he wouldn’t make it through the night, but please not to tell Cherish, as she needed to rest and recover from the emergency procedure. I could barely see Toby for all the equipment covering his face and chest, and all the wires and tubes connected to his body.

Toby struggled through his first days, but he is alright now. I can’t imagine what it must be like, to actually lose a child. I struggled for quite some time after Toby recovered. Unbeknownst to me, I was suffering from post-natal PTSD. It was diagnosed by the midwife when she was visiting Cherish prior to the birth of my daughter, Phoebe.

The cover art is harrowing for me, and the music more so. Most of my friends who know me through a shared love of music, know that generally speaking lyrics pass me by. The vocals are usually just another instrument in the mix for me, and I very rarely pay attention what is actually being sung. Perhaps because I am aware of what this album describes lyrically, or perhaps because there are so few lyrics at all, they stand out more, I can’t help but hear them on this album. Quite clearly the lyrics are written from the (broken) heart, and I do find them hard to process.

I know a lot of people make Radiohead comparisons with this album, and of course I can hear why. I also hear a lot of Anekdoten, though whether Bruce had listened to that band, I don’t know. Perhaps it’s just the gravity (excuse the bad pun) of the lyrics and music?

As is almost always the case with The Pineapple Thief, the album finishes marvellously, if somewhat crushingly. It reminds me quite a bit of Remember Us from Variations, despite sounding quite different. The beeping which features throughout tightens my chest every time it appears. I’m immediately back in SCUBU, by Toby’s side with those beeps. It’s amazing how one simple sound can pull back so many memories. For a long time, even when I could listen to this album, I couldn’t listen to this song. It’s one of my favourite TPT songs now, even if I still rarely manage to listen to it.

It must have been hard for Bruce to write this, but cathartic. It is hard for me to listen to, but cathartic. Music is medicine.

Toby’s suffering was due to undiagnosed Group B Strep. My Little Man is alive. He, and we, were lucky. Others are not. This is a wonderful album which is often overlooked in TPT’s discography. Perhaps because it is too personal? Perhaps it is only appreciated (if that’s even the right word) by those who have been through similar trauma? Regardless, it gets my vote. For Bruce, for his Little Man, and for me, and my Little Man.