Portal, Aborted, and Portal

I’m going heavy today! Today’s batch of gross and stinky albums comes courtesy of Portal, Aborted, and Portal.

Wait whuuuut? Portal twice? Tom, have you been smoking the marijuana reefer cigarettes?? Have you been eating the LSD biscuits again?? MAYBE. It turns out, and this may be news to you, sometimes a band releases more than one album in a single year. Crazy, right?

Portal – AVOW
(May 28, 2021)

Portal - AVOW

Portal has notoriety in extreme metal circles for being heavy. Hey, what a concept! But…yeah, they really are brutally heavy. For anyone wading through the fetid swamp of black metal, looking for the filthiest, nastiest, murkiest, most mind-twisting, obscure, and evil sounding black metal out there without stumbling upon some accidental power chords, clean guitars, or intelligible “vocals”, Portal is about as good as you’re going to do.

The key is to make the music sound mentally unstable; always on the brink of complete schizophrenia and all-encompassing enough to bring the listener entirely into their fucked-up world. More than anything, Portal plays with texture in a way that sounds like middle-era Neurosis, but a few more levels deeper in Hell. Take “Catafalque”, the 10-minute opener, where the guitars aren’t so much an musical instrument as they are a power tool. They’re revving up as if they’re vehicles endlessly shifting gears on a bleak, desolate highway. Most of the percussion happens on the cymbals and hi-hats, and they’re being brushed upon instead of hit. “Unnerving” doesn’t even begin to describe the tension. Or take “Eye”, which feels like a giant canvas stretching to infinity, with guitars scratching up the canvas while drums slowly pulse over the cacophony.

Each track is its own experience, each experience vivid enough to paint a picture in your head. Let it paint that picture, you might be surprised at what you see.

For that alone, I give this album a thumbs up. I won’t reach for this one too often, but if a band like Portal can create for me vibrant images with their music, in a vacuum, in a way that Brian Eno can’t with his ambient soundscapes, then good on Portal.

Early Verdict:

Aborted – ManiaCult
(September 10, 2021)

Aborted - ManiaCult

I’m not familiar with Belgian death metal band Aborted’s work before this, their eleventh album. Churning out LPs like clockwork since 1999, Wikipedia claims that they were “key contributors” to the brutal death metal subgenre, which combines death metal with grindcore. In essence, this is just death metal. But faster.

ManiaCult isn’t all brutality, though. Yes, yes, there’s plenty of snorty, throaty growling! But I detect two other distinct vocal styles: sneery post-hardcore yelling, and hollow, slightly echoed shouting. Trust me on this one, this is a big deal!

Not only that, but you can easily hear many different approaches to their guitar playing. Yes, yes, there’s plenty of down-tuned and distorted shredding! But they’ll also bust out punky, thrash riffs and clean, power metal chords as well!

And not only THAT, but it’s not all Speedy Gonzales tremolo picking! First of all, that’s racist! Second of all, they slow down a lot of the time and allow the riffs some room to really hit hard and hurt. Sometimes they really slow down. “Verbolgen” is a 1:38 instrumental interlude of cautious piano, etherial tape hiss, and some subtle electronic effects, right in the middle of the record. It sounds like you’re walking carefully along an empty, dimly lit corridor, chest pounding, taking a breather, and then you peak around the corner and see the next onslaught waiting.

All this seamless transitioning from the slow and flighty to the fast and chaotic, the palette of vocal and instrumental colors, the little nuances and tricks, it’s fucking engaging. And at 41 minutes, it doesn’t last long enough to wear out its welcome.

10 other studio albums in the last 22 years. I’m going to enjoy this.

Early Verdict:

Portal – Hagbulbia
(May 28, 2021)

Portal - Hagbulbia

Awww HELL naw! Why? Why release this one? What was the point?

Yes, Portal released two albums on the same day this year. While AVOW is a very reasonable contribution to their discographical canon, Hagbulbia, which can be considered as AVOW‘s companion piece, is a complete mess of shit. And, usually, I consider that a compliment with respect to black metal. In fact, I was gearing up to love this album after learning that it was critically panned by most extreme metal music publications. Nothing like a completely negative consensus across the board to get me all fired up! Metal Machine Music? I’ll spin that all day!

OK, not really, but Lou Reed’s Metal Machine Music isn’t a far-off comparison to Hagbulbia. Luckily, the latter is only about 38 minutes long, but it lasts an eternity anyway. It’s all just muddled noise, presenting the most putrid, unappealing permutation of the band that is fathomable. AVOW at least had some discernable texture. Completely incomprehensible vocals overlap dozens of times over into a giant, dense slab of concrete squalor that mirrors the kind stuff that you’d get from a typical Merzbow record.

Sometimes it’s interesting if you really, really try. I’m not masochistic enough to listen to this more than twice. Portal needed to get this out of their system. I’m glad they did, and now they can move on. No vivid imagery from me here. It’s just dust.

Early Verdict:


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Alias (Vol. 1), Issue #3

Alias (Vol. 1), Issue #3 – “Alias Investigations (Part 3)”

* Part 3 of 5 of the Alias Investigations storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Alias (Vol. 1), Issue #3 – “Alias Investigations, Part 3”! In the previous installment, Jessica Jones considers destroying the footage she shot of Captain America at her client’s sister’s house. After discovering that her client’s phone was disconnected, that her client’s address led her to a storefront, AND that the client’s sister’s house is now a crime scene, Jones heads to Luke Cage’s apartment. He blows her off in an already-married fashion.

The next morning a detective questions Jones. She is told that her client’s sister has been murdered. Jones fakes surprise, but then is busted when the police shows her a whole mess of photos of her present at the crime scene! Oopsy-daisy! Down to the station with you, Jonesy!

This series is a humdinger so far! I’m positively frothing with delight! Please join me in part three of the thrilling story!

Alias (Vol. 1), Issue #3 [January, 2002]
Written by: Brian Michael Bendis
“Alias Investigations (Part 3)”

Alias (Vol. 1), Issue #3

Interrogation room time! She’s sitting at the table, alone, talking to the mirror. Finally, Detective Paul Hall shows up being all coy and cute behind his Edward James Olmos mustache. He starts prying with questions into her past stint as Jewel, the superhero, the “alias” as it were. She’s sweating a bit and getting catty with him. He never stops smiling. “What can you do?” “I don’t know — stuff.” “Are ya strong?” “Stronger than you — yes.” “Are you threatening me?” “No. I was answering your question.” “Uh huh.” She’s only cooperating because she knows enough to know that it’s the smart thing to do at the moment. You can tell she wants to kick his teeth in, though. He shows her one of her portraits from her superhero days. “Why no costume?” “Just not me.” “I would wear a costume.” “Why don’t you, then?”. Ol’ Paul here stays pretty fixated on the costume, going on about how a costume can be very meaningful as a symbol to people. A symbol that people can trust. “Or hate…” she retorts, glumly.

He starts grilling her about other powers she might have–stretching, invisibility, growing tall–all of which she denies curtly and asks if she can make a phone call. “You know who asks for phone calls? Guilty people” Detective Hall says, the little scamp.

Alias (Vol. 1), Issue #3

Go fuck yourself, Edward James Olmos!

The questioning continues. “Do you use your special super powers to get work done as a private dick?” “Yes.” “How’s that working out for you?” “Up until today — pretty good.” He then asks if she knows any of the Fantastic Four, which makes her weirdly uncomfortable, and then he asks if she was hired to trail the murdered woman. “Yes.” He then asks what happened next, and she says the most words she has been able to say so far, basically catching the reader up on what has gone on for the last two-and-a-half issues.

Alias (Vol. 1), Issue #3

Listen, the only thing I could murder right now is a cold cut combo with a bag of Baked Lay’s.

“Why did you lie to me when I told you the woman was dead?” he asks, to which she responds earnestly by admitting that she wished she hadn’t and that she had panicked in the moment, especially since she had spent the better part of an evening paranoid that someone was fucking with her. Hall finds this hard to believe, but she lays out her reasons and then tells him that someone must be fucking with him too if he really believes she’s guilty. Sounds like the desperate flailings of a guilty person to me!

Jones tells Hall that her whole involvement amounted to finding Miranda, as she was hired to do, and going home. He asks what time she got home. She says 1am. He asks why she called Miranda’s sister at 1am. She says because her client was so distraught about her sister’s disappearance that, maybe, a middle-of-the-night phone call to let her know she was safe was appropriate. “But she wasn’t safe, was she?” Hall points out. “She was when I left her.” Jones replies. She keeps asking him throughout this interrogation if he finds it at all odd that he received an anonymous tip about all of this in the first place, which is a question he has repeatedly completely ignored.

“Why did you call officers to your place of employment yesterday?” he asks, referring to the incident with the hostile client at the very beginning of this series. He grins when she freezes up. “You threw this man through a plate glass window.” “He attacked me first. I was defending myself.” Hall then asks Jones if she thinks it’s fair to use her powers for self-defense purposes against people without powers, and then starts to imply that maybe she has a recurring habit of displaying her out-of-control temper. Throwing men through plate glass windows. Strangling young women. That kind of thing. Thinking maybe it wasn’t Jessica Jones at all. Thinking maybe it was “Jewel”. Thinking maybe there are even other personalities kicking around ideas in that brain of hers. This is where she starts to get mad!

Alias (Vol. 1), Issue #3

All 38 of the people in my head agree that you’re out of line, mister!

Now Hall’s gone and done it! Jones ain’t playing anymore! After telling Hall to go fuck himself, some suit with red sunglasses walks into the room and announces that he is Jessica Jones’ lawyer and that they are both gonna blow this popsicle stand! Why it’s none other than MATTHEW MURDOCK, also known as Daredevil, and it looks like I’m gonna have to start reading some Daredevil comics too. Shit! Murdock lays down some cold, hard, legalese which backs Detective Hall into a corner, and then they skedaddle on out of there.

Alias (Vol. 1), Issue #3

Hell, if even Jesus-Boy Matt Murdock thinks you’re guilty, then it’s really not looking good.

Outside, Jones asks who Murdock is and he says that they’ve met before. She doesn’t remember. “Luke Cage and I go way back” he tells her, which is probably true! What do I know? I’m just here reading comics! Murdock tells Jones that Cage contacted him about her situation and he made haste to swoop in and intervene. She insists that she can’t afford a lawyer, but Murdock’s all “don’t worry about it”. I’m sure all this doesn’t help Jones feel better about her paranoia. She spends a lot of panels projecting her insecurities about feeling stupid, and it’s at this point that I’m admitting that the Krysten Ritter Jessica Jones is way more confident and badass than this Bendis Jessica Jones. Maybe she gets it together at some point, she seems pretty unsure of herself and meek. And she’s letting all these guys run the show constantly? Come the fuck on.

And, as you can see, even Murdock has to ask if Jones didn’t kill Miranda. He’s skeptical, but turns a blind eye (ha!) and assures her that the cops don’t have a case against her. “Some of these cops just like meeting superheroes”. He tells her to go on with her life, get some rest…and, uh, don’t leave town. He gives her his card.

Jones heads back to her office, where, to her disbelief, she finds the tape untouched. She can’t get over that; she has no idea why no one took it while she was detained. She calls the number on Murdock’s card to make sure it was a real number (it was). Calming down a little, finally, she looks again at the photo of the superhero crew hanging on her wall. As Jewel, Jones is shown standing next to a taller blonde woman in a black eyemask. Looks like she’s going to be the next person that Jones is going to sheepishly contact for help.

Alias (Vol. 1), Issue #3

Look, Jones, nobody likes you. Go crawl into a hole.

Carol Danvers. Jones asks if she can come in, but Danvers is curt. Jones asks if she can talk to Captain American, Danvers says no. Jones says she was by the Avengers mansion and no one was there. Danvers says they’re out, and she has the flu so she couldn’t go with them. After Danvers makes it bluntly clear that she will not help, Jones asks her to at least use her security clearance to find out where the phone number she originally got from her client came from. Danvers is obviously still bitter about some past event where Jones treated her like crap, but finally gives in.

Later, Jones gets an email from Danvers with the info she asked for, plus some genuine apologies and even a friendly smile emoticon! Does anyone even call them emoticons anymore! I do! Anyway, Danvers gives Jones a contact’s phone number with a Washington D.C. area code. Jones tries calling it and she’s connected to the office of Democratic presidential candidate Steven Keaton. The issue ends with her annoyed, confused face.

:-]

Final Thoughts

I was unironically hoping for a whole bottle episode here where Jessica Jones spends the entire issue getting interrogated. Most people probably would’ve hated that, but not me! I like boring stuff like that.

The intrigue keeps on building. I’m as perplexed as Jessica Jones! I like not knowing what’s going on in a story in a good way, and not in the way that I felt lost during that Gifted story arc in Joss Whedon’s Astonishing X-Men. I mean, come on, is this even about the dead woman anymore? Who cares, right? Old news!

Good stuff, keep it coming. I hope we see her kick someone’s ass again soon! Oh baby!


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Action Comics (Vol. 2), Issue #3 – “World Against Superman”

* Part 3 of 8 of the Superman and the Men of Steel storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Action Comics (Vol. 2), Issue #3 – “World Against Superman”! ACTION COMICS! ACTION, BABY! In the previous installment, Superman was held hostage at the army base like some lab rat while Lex Luthor and his team of doctors and scientists zap him with electricity and blow sarin gas in his face. Lois Lane attempts to break into the base to check up on Superman, but Superman can hold his own as it turns out! He escapes and flies away, which could’ve been done in the first six panels of the comic book. At the end, Lex Luthor speaks to some mysterious and knowledgeable anonymous contact from whom Luthor is getting help for his perverted endeavors, and there’s a goddamn tentacle space station in the sky! ACTION!

Action Comics (Vol. 2), Issue #3 [January, 2012]
Written by: Grant Morrison
“World Against Superman”

Action Comics (Vol. 2), Issue #3

Uh oh! If this cover art is any indication of what to expect, a lot of ugly motherfuckers and cross-eyed kids who use butter as hair product are really mad at Superman! Probably because he doesn’t get sad at his reflections in mirrors like the rest of them? I guess I’ll have to crack open this bad boy and find out!

What the heck is this now? Is this Planet Krypton? I suppose so. I’m not even going to pretend I know what anyone is talking about in this scene. Fancy-dressed socialites are saying things like, and I quote, “Didn’t Zar-La row over Jor-El over the planetary core stability findings?” Whatever, nerds! OK, I’m a science kind of guy in real life so I can tell you what’s going on here: these people are talking about the possibility of Krypton blowing up or exploding or blowing up THEN exploding. Meanwhile, baby Superman aka Kal-El is chiming in with commentary like “bda” and “zabt!” and “da!”. That last one is Russian, that I know.

“GET OUT OF KANDOR, LARA! WARN THE OTHERS! YOU MUST LEAVE NOW!” bellows some Superman-looking guy-in-charge kinda guy with a diamond-studded headband and an armor chest plate with a planet on it like he’s Chuckie from Rugrats. OK, this scene sucks. Professor Van-Da allowed alien consciousness into the network?? He also killed himself?? Well, that’s a bummer, I really liked Van-Da and- wait a minute! Who the fuck is Van-Da?? Arrgh! All the really, really hot and sexy civilians are ridiculing Jor-El’s apocalypse predictions. Lara’s teleband is feedbacking? She sees a vision of a Jor-El getting a message that the world is ending? The planet’s database has been backed up? Terminauts will preserve significant artifacts? Dwarf star lensing has commenced? Everyone starts floating away? Green lightning starts hitting people? Superman’s mother was killed, is that what’s happening?

Action Comics (Vol. 2), Issue #3

What the FUCK are you weirdos even talking about? Professor Van-Da?? You’re just making sounds up now!

Well, I’m glad that’s over! Jesus fucking Christ that was a headache.

Clark Kent is sleeping in a shitty, tiny bed looking gross and smelly. His landlady is banging on the door while his phone rings. He puts on a smelly, shitty looking sweater and answers Jimmy’s call. As you may remember, Jimmy is Clark’s underage friend who Clark probably shouldn’t spend as much time with as he does or else people are going to start talking and the authorities will be notified. Meanwhile, Mrs. Nyxly, the landlady, is probably trying to let him know that authorities WERE notified and now they’re there at the building looking to do a little snoopy-snoop around Clark’s apartment.

The main guy in the suit is named Inspector Blake and he looks kind of like the Maître D’ from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. I guess this Blake guy has a beef with Clark because he likes to constantly write about how terrible the city of Metropolis is in the Daily Planet. I imagine Clark Kent’s newspaper headlines are like “METROPOLIS SMELLS LIKE STINKY SEWAGE” or “KRYPTON WAS BETTER THAN THIS” or “I HATE METROPOLIS AND ALSO I’M SUPERMAN”. Inspector Blake makes it clear that Clark is flirting with disaster by continuing to harass Glenmorgan (he was the business fatcat that Superman dangled off a balcony in Issue #1). Blake thinks Clark Kent is some little punk from Kansas who has no business causing such a ruckus in the big city! I’m guessing Blake and Clark have some history here that I probably won’t find anything out about until I read nine million more Superman comics. This is a long-ass paragraph, I’d better start a new one.

Action Comics (Vol. 2), Issue #3

Go back to Hogwarts, you lousy outsider freak.

Blake asks Clark his opinion on Superman. Clark is all “Uh, buh, haha, yeah right Inspector Blake, or should I say, Inspector SHIT. Superman is an old wives’ tale, sir, like holding your breath when walking by a cemetery! Or 9/11!” OK, he doesn’t say that, but what he DOES yell from the balcony when the police leave the building is “YOU THINK I’M WORKING WITH SUPERMAN? BACK TO COP SCHOOL, GUYS!”, proving once again that Clark Kent is smart as a whip! Mrs. Nyxly asks him if he’s from outer space, and Clark is taken aback.

Action Comics (Vol. 2), Issue #3

PENIS MIGHTIER! PENIS MIGHTER! AROO AROO AROO!

The scene shifts to a mall food court where over-age Clark Kent is hanging out with his consensual “friend”, underage Jimmy Olsen. Clark is wringing his hands about the media portraying Superman as some space villain who came from space to destroy Earth with his space breath, but as Clark Kent he’s worried that Glenmorgan is diverting attention away from his corruption by spreading the Superman story. Of course, if Superman hadn’t dangled the douchebag over a building Michael Jackson-style then maybe he wouldn’t have as much to worry about. Plus, why does he care? He can just beat everyone up. Jesus. They catch a rabid Glenmorgan on TV fuming about how Superman whipped his ass and how he intends to expose the truth that Superman is an alien.

Later, Clark gets a call from his anonymous informant (probably the same anonymous informant who is helping Lex Luthor; calling it now). The informant tells him that Glenmorgan rigged the train to crash in order to kill Grundig AND start an initiative to replace the city’s bullet train system with his own line of “robot subways”. Clark thinks this news isn’t worth writing about! The informant then says “ok, how about a bunch of photos of Jeff Goldblum pooping his pants?” Ha! In your dreams! The informant actually tells him this is some good shit and that he should write about it before the whole World is Against Superman. Hey, like the title!

At some undisclosed later time, Superman saves a girl from being hit by a truck while trying to catch her cat stuck in a tree. He saves the cat too. The girl screams, and we see a raging mob suddenly appear to pelt Superman with bottles and bricks. That’s an LOL from me. This whole disgraceful event causes Clark Kent to reconsider his informant’s opinions.

Clark heads to Glenmorgan’s robot factory so that he can be a jerk reporter to the foreman on the factory floor, who gets mad. Clark learns that Jimmy Olsen and Lois Lane are already there also reporting. Scenes like this really take the wind out of the sails of my “Jimmy Olsen is a minor that Clark is boning” bit. Sigh. As Lois looks like she’s about to slug Clark right in the ol’ kisser, the sound of a transmission is heard elsewhere on the floor. It’s the same message about backing up Krypton’s database that we saw at the beginning. They find an area with robots relaying this message; even the foreman’s fat face shows bafflement.

Action Comics (Vol. 2), Issue #3

Ohh shit, the Transformers are acting up again. They’re more than meets the eye, you know.

Oh dags, I completely forgot about this whole Steel Soldier thing. Looks like Sargeant Mustache John Corben is getting outfitted in this stupid metal suit. The scientists are plugging him into the suit with some cords, saying stuff like “you may feel some discomfort, sir”, and Corben is all like “TONY STARK WAS ABLE TO BUILD THIS IN A CAVE WITH A BOX OF SCRAPS!” The scientists applaud Corben’s bravery, lavishing him with dick-sucking yes-man stuff like “you’re our last line of defense” and “all praise the Dear Leader”. Corben is all like “I’M THE JUGGERNAUT, BITCH!”. He doesn’t have a mustache anymore. Once he’s plugged in and the juice goes on, he starts speaking like the Krypton computer. “I AM THE VOICE OF THE COLONY OF THE COLLECTOR OF WORLDS.” says the Corben robot (this is actually a real thing he says this time, not something I made up). Lex Luthor pops in, fashionably late as usual, to welcome Steel Soldier and lets him know that they made a deal. Steel Soldier says “THEN WHERE! IS! SUPERMAN?”

Final Thoughts

ACTION! ACTION ACTION ACTION! ACCCTTTIIIIIOOOOOOON!!!!!! ACTION!


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Porcupine Tree

PAGE IN PROGRESS

Porcupine Tree
Steven Wilson’s contribution to progressive rock in the post-classic rock era cannot be ignored. The ’80s saw most neo-progressive bands continuing the Genesis tradition of whimsy and fantasy (Marillion and IQ), as well as the evolution of heavy metal into progressive metal (Queensrÿche and Fates Warning), but Wilson was alone at the time in channeling the moody psychedelia of Pink Floyd, the crunchy tension of King Crimson, and the engaging hypnosis of Tangerine Dream. Eventually, the music would transcend these major influences and become something entirely innovative and important for the genre as a whole.

The Porcupine Tree project started off as nothing much more than Wilson screwing around at home, turning into a full-fledged band when the project started gaining steam through the ’90s. They hit their peak during the ’00s with a three-peat of indispensable modern prog records (In Absentia, Deadwing, and Fear of a Blank Planet), and then an indefinite hiatus on the project went into effect shortly after releasing their final album in order for Wilson to shift most of his focus to his solo career and his work on remixing and remastering albums from many other bands and artists. He expressed interest in working on another Porcupine Tree project someday, but that day is not today!

Porcupine Tree’s Bandcamp page

JUMP TO:
(1992) On the Sunday of Life…
(1993) Up the Downstair
(1995) The Sky Moves Sideways

On the Sunday of Life… (1992) – Rating: 4/10
Click Here for the Full Album Review

Porcupine Tree - On the Sunday of Life...

The humble beginnings of the Porcupine Tree project were nothing more than a fun, pressure-free distraction for Wilson and his buddy Malcolm Stocks. In 1989 and 1991 they released two cassettes of this material when they realized that other people might enjoy it as well. Long story short, when Wilson co-created a record label with his other buddy Richard Allen, Allen coerced him into releasing his existing work. And lo’ and behold we have On the Sunday of Life…, a glorified compilation of the very best that the two cassettes had to offer.

Basically, this is a joke album. A novelty. A way for funny-boy Steven Wilson to let out some of his funny-boy steam. Unfortunately, this album isn’t terribly funny, so based on that metric alone it’s not a success. The other issue I have with this 76-minute collection of scraps is that it could have easily been trimmed down much further and distilled to just the truly potent, musically interesting parts. But it wasn’t, and a lot of On the Sunday of Life… comprises overlong ’60s space rock drones with no linking thematic continuity to keep the final product from the brink of crumbling in your hands. Or ears. Slapped together with Scotch tape, that’s what this is. The individual tracks lack a feeling of importance, and as a whole — even less so.

Out of 18 tracks, there are just a small handful of gems worth hanging onto. “Jupiter Island” is accessible, whimsical, and poppy, with neato psychedelic guitar and Gene Wene high-pitched vocals. “The Nostalgia Factory” is the only necessary extended krautrock exercise (and likely the best track here) with it’s interweaving guitar and tasteful proggy keyboards. “Radioactive Toy”, despite its length, is engaging and unnerving throughout. Wilson breathe-sings about atomic bombs and then launches into a cool psychedelic jam.

A lot of the rest of the album is filler. Ambient go-nowhere experiments and overly psychedelic, frameless noodling does not a great album make. Most of these types of tracks feel like transition pieces rather than actual songs, and there are too many of them taking up the album’s real estate.

Skip this one. Unless you’re a devoted Wilsonophile, this one is not important in order to capture his essence. And if you must insist on hearing what he was tinkering with in his early days, you’d do much better with the very similar Up the Downstair.

Up the Downstair (1993) – Rating: 5/10
Click Here for the Full Album Review

Porcupine Tree - Up the Downstair

Better, but we’re not quite there yet. The second album, or perhaps the first real album, seems like a second smaller helping of On the Sunday of Life….

For the defense, Wilson’s production skills are already top-notch in 1993 and, since this album was written and arranged in real time and it’s not merely a compilation of earlier material, the flow is noticeably more cohesive. A shorter album with better flow and less filler? There’s your extra point.

However, Steven Wilson’s Type A personality is all over this record. Don’t get me wrong, this album is enjoyable. “Synesthesia” is a very cool opener (after the spoken word intro track) with a repeating electronic beat brimming with nervous energy, and some searing acid guitar solos. “Always Never” is more psychedelic and groovy Pink Floyd ripoff stuff, but since he’s good at ripping off Pink Floyd he gets a pass. And the rest of the songs alternate between these two types of moods enough times for you to realize that this album has very little in the way of fresh ideas. The title track “Up the Downstair” is ten minutes of robotic high-energy MIDI-file trance that goes on far too long. Same with “Burning Sky”. Then there’s “Not Beautiful Anymore”, a mellow, introspective, slow rock number. Same with “Small Fish”. Same with “Fadeaway”. Rehashed ideas cause diminishing returns.

With respect to Wilson’s Type A personality, Up the Downstair has all the building blocks of a good record that were carefully designed and assembled in a sterile laboratory. Everything is too cold and calculated for me to extract any true feeling from the end product.

My final verdict? Absolutely worth the listen. Worth two listens! Worth 20 listens! But if you call this your favorite Porcupine Tree album, then we’re fucking fighting out by the flagpole at 3pm after school.

The Sky Moves Sideways (1995) – Rating: 9/10
No Full Album Review Yet

Porcupine Tree - The Sky Moves Sideways

Now we’re talking! Porcupine Tree’s third album leans harder into Wilson’s Pink Floyd and Tangerine Dream fanboyism than they ever had before and they ever will again, and the results are fantastic. Finally, Porcupine Tree is an actual band and not just a Steven Wilson tinkering-around-in-his-basement solo project. Finally, an album full of music that not only feels vital, but, all these years later, it sounds surprisingly timeless.

The Pink Floyd connection is super obvious with the track structure. A giant song split up into two lengthy sections bookending the album? Wish You Were Here, anyone? And then the slow build at the beginning of “The Sky Moves Sideways Phase 1” even has a ticking clock in it! And I’m pretty sure that the opening guitar melody was lifted straight from Dark Side of the Moon‘s “Breathe”. Come on, Stevie.

But don’t worry, once the mammoth track unfolds, you’ll be too lost in space to care about possible infringements. Watery guitar licks and echoing drums turn into a psychedelic Tangerine Dream exercise, and then the bongos come in, and then a blistering guitar solo, and then a fuckin’ flute! This nearly 19-minute opening track is a suite that’s chock full of lively and interesting ideas that don’t let up until it’s over.

And then there’s “Moonloop”, another giant track that scares you at first because you, like me, heard the previous two Porcupine Tree albums and you, like me, know that the second long-ass track in an album tends to rehash earlier ideas. And yes, at first it progresses similarly to the opener: same bongos, same acid guitar, but this one focuses more on hypnotic repetition as opposed to the opener’s King Crimson-style psych-jazz improvisation. While the trance tracks of the first two records felt flat and lacking texture, Wilson uses his superb mixing powers to create a much more three-dimensional landscape. Little electronic flurries here, a random percussion instrument there; he adds changes ever-so-slightly and draws you in with little hesitation. It does what a trance track is supposed to do: take you far, far away, man.

“The Sky Moves Sideways Phase 2” is just as good as Phase 1, and almost as long. This time it starts with squiggly synths that lead into the most melodic guitar of the album. As the track builds, themes from Phase 1 recur in a manner that doesn’t necessarily rehash. Way to go!

For my money, the entire album could’ve just been these three tracks and it would have been perfect (and, at 52 minutes, more than adequate for a full-length). The other three tracks, “Dislocated Day”, “The Moon Touches Your Shoulder”, and “Prepare Yourself”, feel out of place among the sprawl. Not even worth talking about! Not here anyway.

PAGE IN PROGRESS – TO BE CONTINUED

Alias (Vol. 1), Issue #2

Alias (Vol. 1), Issue #2 – “Alias Investigations (Part 2)”

* Part 2 of 5 of the Alias Investigations storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Alias (Vol. 1), Issue #2 – “Alias Investigations (Part 2)”! In the previous installment, Jessica Jones is an ex-superhero who now earns her living as a private investigator. Luke Cage is her bang buddy. He’s also an ex-superhero who now earns his living as a bar owner. At this moment their superpowers are still unclear, although Jones did throw a man through her office door window. Jones is depressed, but Cage seems happy. He’s not.

A woman approaches Jones to enlist her services. Her sister Miranda is missing. After some sleuthing, she stakes out a house and discovers that Miranda is hooking up with CAPTAIN AMERICA! WHAT! Shove off, David Tennant! Already in Issue #1 this story took a turn I didn’t expect. Hot damn!

What new, exciting, saucy adventures await in Issue #2? MAX Comics, baby! Put the kids to bed, it’s gonna get racy. Oooh momma! Let’s crack this bad boy open.

Alias (Vol. 1), Issue #2 [December, 2001]
Written by: Brian Michael Bendis
“Alias Investigations (Part 2)”

Alias (Vol. 1), Issue #2

It’s the dead of night, and Jessica Jones has been standing outside her apartment building for 42 minutes holding a videotape that “people would kill for”. Ohhh, Sweatin’ to the Oldies?! Fuck yeah, gimme. So, in a state of paralyzing paranoia, she’s checking her apartment curtains from the street to make sure that they’re moving due to the wind and not because someone is squatting in her pad waiting to commit the foul act of person-on-person murder. But, she got bored, so she’s going in anyway.

No one is there, and she feels stupid. She doesn’t even think the footage she has is any good anyway. Yeah, probably all for naught. Paranoid for nothing. Let’s check the tape.

Yeah, that footage is pretty damning. The guy ripping out of his civilian clothes and becoming Captain America right there, plain as day. Hmm. What to do. What to do, what to do?

What to do what to do what to do what to do what to do what to do what to do.

Whattodowhattodowhattodowhattodowhattodowhattodo.

Alias (Vol. 1), Issue #2

Now there’s a what to do for ya!

So she throws the VHS tape in the microwave and hits a few buttons before stopping herself. She has a moment of crisis.

She regroups on her thoughts at this point. Let’s say she was set up, right? Perhaps Captain America’s enemies sent this woman to get Jones to follow Captain America? But then why would they need her in the first place if they already know who he is? Arrrgghh.

OK, let’s say she was set up, right? And whoever set her up needs the tape? She might be killed if she destroys it? People she cares about might be killed? No, that doesn’t make sense either! Who gives a shit?! Arrrgghh.

What to do what to do what to do whattodowhattodowhattodo…

Alias (Vol. 1), Issue #2

If word gets out, terrorists might hijack planes and fly right into him. I bet Captain America’s shield can’t withstand a Boeing 777 right to the face!

Ah! OK! Get in touch with that woman again, the one who hired Jones in the first place! She seems dumb and harmless! Maybe Jones can get a better feel for the situation. Yeah. Yeah, ok, let’s do that. OK, it’s 3:30am, but fuck it, right, just call her and make up some excuse for calling so late.

Alias (Vol. 1), Issue #2

“If you’d like to make a call, please hang up and try again. If you’d like to know the number of the last phone call you received, please press *69. lol. nice.“

Well shit. Disconnected number. Jones hauls ass outside and hails a taxi to take her to the address she got from her client. She’s led to a baby clothing store.

Well shit. One place left to go, and that’s back at the stakeout house, Miranda’s address, and finds a crime scene with two cops discussing that a woman was strangled with someone’s bare hands.

Well fucking fuck shit. With nowhere else safe to go, she finds herself at Luke Cage’s place. He asks why the hell she’s there, she says she had a bad night, and he tells her she can’t come around here. “You crazy?” Crazy as a fox! Luke is already with a woman, presumably his lawfully wedded wife, so he tries to chase Jessica Jones the FUCK out of there stat. Door closes. With nowhere else to go for reals this time, she cries in the hallway of Cage’s apartment building in the middle of the night.

The next morning, Jones is outside AVENGERS MANSION where she asks a loudspeaker at the front gate if she can speak to Captain America. “I’M SORRY, THE AVENGERS ARE AWAY ON A MISSION — HELPING TO KEEP THE WORLD A SAFER PLACE FOR YOU AND YOUR FAMILY TO LIVE. BUT WE THANK YOU FOR STOPPING BY.” And then the voice threatens her, so she walks away.

Back at Jones’ apartment building, a police detective named Paul Hall is waiting for her. Too bad it wasn’t “Paul Wall”, but the stars don’t align quite so nicely sometimes, do they? He immediately asks if she used to be a superhero, and after confirming and asking politely what Hall needs from her, he continues the line of questioning by asking if she still has her superpowers. She confirms this too, and he moves on to the real questions. She confirms that she saw Miranda the previous night. Hall is suspicious. He informs her that Miranda was murdered. You can tell Jones isn’t surprised, but she kind of acts like it in that deadpan emotionless way we’ve only seen from her thus far. He asks if this news surprises her, she says yes, but then he lets her know that they have photos of the crowd at the crime scene. Whoops!

Alias (Vol. 1), Issue #2

THAT COULD BE ANYONE IN THAT PHOTO! DO I LOOK LIKE I EVER LEAVE THE HOUSE? I’M ON PILLS, MAN! DON’T FUCK WITH ME, I MIGHT GO CRAZY! *teeth gnashing* I WOULDN’T HURT A FLY! *feral frothing*

So, yeah, busted! Hall asks Jones to come down to the station. “I hope you’re smart enough to know that using your powers at this point would be a real mistake…”

Final Thoughts

Gee whiz! You can tell I’m into this story by the genuine lack of snarky wisecrackin’ hooliganry that I usually slather into these posts! How is Jessica Jones going to get out of this pickle? And what happened to Miranda’s sister? Is Jones going to have to track down Captain America? Is he going to be all sad and shit? We’ve got a mystery on our hands, boys and girls!


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