THE RAVEN THAT REFUSED TO SING (AND OTHER STORIES)

One of Steven Wilson's most ambitious efforts ever, and already one of the most iconic contemporary art rock achievements, 'The Raven That Refused to Sing' is not only among the most impressive released of its decade, but it will also certainly go down as one of the definitive records of the progressive rock genre. Rightfully crowned 'the prince of prog rock', Wilson delivers a 'love letter' to the genre's greats from the 70s, captivating the listener with divine musical passages, atmospheric nuances and enchanting soundscapes, severe emotional depth as an all-encompassing asset and thoughtful, cordial lyrics to top the already-exhaustive list of prerequisites to enjoy this fantastic collection of songs about stories of supernatural nature.

The listener's attention is grabbed from the very first seconds of the album by the throbbing bass of 'Luminol' a 12-minute epic composition that borders both jazz fusion and classic prog, and a song that has become a staple for Wilson's live performances. The vitality of the sound helps it feel like a 6-minute song, as it drifts back and forth between the pulsating bass-led sections and the more ethereal passages. Then comes 'Drive Home', a tremendous effort in pure prog intertwined with deeply satisfactory and immersive tonal depth, arguably reaching its apex when the otherworldly Guthrie Govan guitar solo comes in to swipe the listener away; another excellent and emotive composition about a love story featuring a drive in the night that ends fatally with the surprising disappearance of the beloved wife. The third track on the album is the menacing 'The Holy Drinker', which is pure madness and maybe even raw power, a very classy composition that once again reminisces the fusion moments of 'Grace for Drowning', while winking to the keyboard wizardry of Keith Emerson, as we get a very flamboyant Hammond organ section right after the middle of the song; all the musicians perform exquisitely not only here, but on every single song on 'The Raven...'.

'The Pin Drop' is the shortest song on the album, clocking in at five minutes, but it might also be the heaviest (although talking about heaviness on this record might not be too appropriate); its massive-sounding chorus blasts the listener, as a plethora of sounds unfold in front of their ears. Not to mention that all this is aided by the dreamy vocals and the somewhat grim lyrics that tackle the topics of love and identity once again. 'The Watchmaker' has to be Wilson's true 70s Genesis moment, as the acoustic guitars evoke some 'Selling England by the Pound' or 'Nursery Cryme' episodes. Truly beautiful and melancholic, this song impresses with its slower build-up and creative final section. The sixth and final composition on here is the title track, which can be easily described as one of Steven Wilson's most astonishing achievements. Rarely has a contemporary musician been able to present such a deeply emotional track, with its gradually unfolding beauty and uncompromising story of the absence of a loved one. Purely gorgeous.

It is albums like this one that impress the most, and thankfully this gentle, sheltering masterwork is relatively well-known for what it is, as it can hardly be confused for something commercial and easily digestible. I firmly believe that the peak of one of prog rock's strongest periods (2010-2013) is 'The Raven' by Steven Wilson, a very well-crafted album, tremendously well produced and sufficiently original not to sound like an invocation of a long-gone musical genre, that is severely unfashionable. Nothing like it, this record is a true journey for the music lover, and one that is worth every single second.