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Trollheart · 12-15-2020, 07:11 PM

98

Album title: All This Will Be Yours
Artist: Bruce Soord
Nationality: British (English)
Sub-genre: Crossover

So who is Bruce Soord, when he's not bequeathing all his earthly possessions to his children? Well, he has something of a penchant for taking pointy fruits from people without their permission. That's right: he's the founder, vocalist and guitarist for proggers The Pineapple Thief, who have skillfully avoided the Fruit Police for over twenty years now, and so remain at large, having turned out thirteen albums to date. Although I have all of their albums lurking on my hard drive – in company with about 4,000 others which have yet to be listened to – I have never heard a single chord, never mind a song by these guys, so I can't speak to whether this, Soord's second (technically third, of which more in a moment) solo album sounds anything like his music from the band, but if it does, then I need to check out the thieving ones post haste, because this is really impressive.

I intimated there was some debate as to whether this is Soord's second or third solo album, and that's because back in 2013 he took his first flight solo in concert with Jonas Renske, known from Katatonia among others, so the album The Wisdom of Crowds could, in some quarters, be seen as his first solo effort, but technically his first solo, as in, completely on his own and released under only his name album wouldn't come till two years later. I guess it's not that important, but it does make it difficult to decide where in his short solo discography this album fits. That being as it may, it's a stunning achievement and quickly became one of my favourite albums of that year (even if I was listening to it this year for the first time) which makes it annoying that I found it languishing at the foot of the table again, and, like the two previous artists, it has now been removed completely. But hey, that's just a list, right?

Before I listened to this album I had no idea who Bruce Soord was; I think I checked him out halfway through or maybe afterwards, I can't remember. But it does mean that even had I known the work of The Pineapple Thief, I still went in without any expectations or pretensions. The fact that I was so taken with the album perhaps speaks to the idea Soord can woo fans and newcomers such as me alike.

It kicks off with a short track, which, given the ponderous epics (good and bad) which have opened the last two albums, comes as something of a relief. It's basic acoustic guitar in a low-key opening; reading a little further I see this album is to celebrate the birth of his third child, and also to decry the poverty and despair he sees or saw in his hometown of Yeovil (England), so the title is actually something of an ironic jest, a sarcastic dig at how bad the world is. I read that Soord recorded things like children screaming on buses going to school, the sound of the shuffling feet of addicts on the way to meet their pushers, police sirens and other local sounds, so as to form a backdrop to his emotional, soulful music here. This I did not know when I originally listened to it, and it certainly adds an extra, and very important and personal layer to the album.

“The Secrets I Know” is pretty much gone before you can really get to grips with it (there's a female vocal in there somewhere but I don't know who this is), barely a chance to appreciate the soft and yearning voice before we're on to “Our Gravest Threat Apart”, with some of those field recordings in the background adding a real sense of atmosphere, pathos and reality to the song. It's a little more upfront, a little more in your face, with sharp piano and tight percussion, the guitar this time electric I think (information on the album is not easy to come by, which is to say pretty much impossible) and though I don't know his band, the artist that comes to mind when I listen to this is Antimatter, where Mick Moss creates soundscapes out of loneliness and despair and somehow manages to shoot them through with threads of beauty, love and hope. The overarching theme through this song – and most of the album – is the refrain “there has to be another way.”

More acoustic then is “The Solitary Path of a Convicted Man”, very introspective and emotional, with for the first time a really nice guitar solo, some sort of howling vocal which works very well in the context of the song, and I think it's probably unlikely you're going to hear any ten-minute keyboard solos or songs about dragons (yeah yeah, cliche I know) on this album, nor indeed do I expect Bruce to rock out at any point. It's not by any means a standard prog record – it may not even qualify as prog at all: certainly not in terms of song length. The title track, up next, is the second longest at just over six minutes. Most prog bands are often only getting going at this point. But as I say, not an ordinary album.

There's almost a soft indie rock vibe to this, the vocal again restrained, the music firm but never overriding Soord's plaintive voice, and another good guitar solo here. I also detect certain elements of the darker side of a-ha here, though that might just be me. “Time Does Not Exist” quickly became one of my favourites on the album with its earworm hook, its gentle acoustic guitar and its almost country sensibility, some really nice piano too. There's a feeling of drama and urgency about the melody, quite epic in its way for such a short track, running a mere three minutes and change. Proof that you don't have to extend a song to twelve minutes to make it work – Grand Tour, I'm looking at you!

Slightly longer by about thirty seconds, “One Misstep” comes in as the heaviest track, if anything here can be so described, with punchy but hollow percussion, almost like military drums beating out a slow tattoo, rising synth complementing Soord's low, tortured vocal, then the longest track is the six-and-a-half minute “You Hear the Voices”, with an instant hook in the melody from the very start, a recurring piano line that is really hard to get out of your head, should you for some reason wish to. Soord's vocal here is almost inaudible at first, crooning low and muted against slick bass and guitar, the soft percussion a heartbeat ticking away in the background. But it's a slowburner, and increases in intensity and power as the track goes on, with certain elements of the bleakest of Depeche Mode in there too.

“Cut the Flowers” sounds like the sort of gardening tip you might get on the BBC in the afternoon, but in fact it refers to wreaths on graves, Soord channelling the best of Gilmour and the Edge at their most introspective, and again I can't help marking the comparison to Antimatter, especially on Planetary Confinement and Lights Out. The song veers from soft and bitter to tough and angry, but never loses its edge (sorry), and again Soord knows the old adage of less is more, this fine piece of music lasting for a mere four and a half minutes, to take us into the closer, which could be interpreted as a warning to a lover, but actually is a meditation on the inevitable exit we all have to perform from the stage of life, and is most likely directed to his children.

“One Day I Will Leave You” engages the slow, plodding blues of Nick Cave at his darkest, with a very philosophical acceptance of the end. Mostly carried on simple strummed acoustic guitar, it nevertheless manages to insert its own little insidious earworm into the melody, and you can't help but hum this paean to the Great Beyond as the album ends. Quite darkly clever really; no redemption, no changing the world, no advice, just a simple thought: “don't mourn my passing, I was always passing through.”

Songs / Tracks Listing

1. The Secrets I Know (2:24)

2. Our Gravest Threat Apart (4:14)

3. The Solitary Path of a Convicted Man (3:44)

4. All This Will Be Yours (6:04)

5. Time Does Not Exist (3:33)

6. One Misstep (4:00)

7. You Hear the Voices (6:54)

8. Cut the Flowers (4:35)

9. One Day I Will Leave You (5:17)

Total Time 40:45

This album is labelled under crossover prog, but to be honest, were it not for Bruce Soord being the head Pineapple, I really don't think this would be considered prog at all. That's in no way a criticism; I don't think it should be put down as a prog album. There's very little progressive rock about it: it's got no multi-part suites, no intricate solos – keyboard or other – and the lyrics are all very earthy and mundane, with none of the exuberance or even attempts to avoid the real world that can characterise other prog bands and albums. What you do get is a very mature, straight-forward, frank testament from a man who has seen the underbelly of society at first hand, and worries what kind of world his children will inherit.

It's not quite the grinning-deaths-head nihilism of a Tom Waits or a Nick Cave, but it's dark, introspective, challenging stuff. If you approach this album correctly (as I had not originally, not having read up on it) it should really make you think. It should also make you sad, angry, bitter, and maybe, just maybe, want to change things for the better. But if not, that's fine: I don't think Soord is setting out here to be any sort of a champion, nor sending out a clarion call to other shining knights. He's just shrugging, sighing and saying this is how it is. I wish it wasn't, but it is. Maybe all he wants us to do is look.

And listen.

Rating: 9/10

12-15-2020, 07:11 PM	#26 (permalink)
Trollheart Born to be mild Join Date: Oct 2008 Location: 404 Not Found Posts: 26,970	98 Album title: All This Will Be Yours Artist: Bruce Soord Nationality: British (English) Sub-genre: Crossover So who is Bruce Soord, when he's not bequeathing all his earthly possessions to his children? Well, he has something of a penchant for taking pointy fruits from people without their permission. That's right: he's the founder, vocalist and guitarist for proggers The Pineapple Thief, who have skillfully avoided the Fruit Police for over twenty years now, and so remain at large, having turned out thirteen albums to date. Although I have all of their albums lurking on my hard drive – in company with about 4,000 others which have yet to be listened to – I have never heard a single chord, never mind a song by these guys, so I can't speak to whether this, Soord's second (technically third, of which more in a moment) solo album sounds anything like his music from the band, but if it does, then I need to check out the thieving ones post haste, because this is really impressive. I intimated there was some debate as to whether this is Soord's second or third solo album, and that's because back in 2013 he took his first flight solo in concert with Jonas Renske, known from Katatonia among others, so the album The Wisdom of Crowds could, in some quarters, be seen as his first solo effort, but technically his first solo, as in, completely on his own and released under only his name album wouldn't come till two years later. I guess it's not that important, but it does make it difficult to decide where in his short solo discography this album fits. That being as it may, it's a stunning achievement and quickly became one of my favourite albums of that year (even if I was listening to it this year for the first time) which makes it annoying that I found it languishing at the foot of the table again, and, like the two previous artists, it has now been removed completely. But hey, that's just a list, right? Before I listened to this album I had no idea who Bruce Soord was; I think I checked him out halfway through or maybe afterwards, I can't remember. But it does mean that even had I known the work of The Pineapple Thief, I still went in without any expectations or pretensions. The fact that I was so taken with the album perhaps speaks to the idea Soord can woo fans and newcomers such as me alike. It kicks off with a short track, which, given the ponderous epics (good and bad) which have opened the last two albums, comes as something of a relief. It's basic acoustic guitar in a low-key opening; reading a little further I see this album is to celebrate the birth of his third child, and also to decry the poverty and despair he sees or saw in his hometown of Yeovil (England), so the title is actually something of an ironic jest, a sarcastic dig at how bad the world is. I read that Soord recorded things like children screaming on buses going to school, the sound of the shuffling feet of addicts on the way to meet their pushers, police sirens and other local sounds, so as to form a backdrop to his emotional, soulful music here. This I did not know when I originally listened to it, and it certainly adds an extra, and very important and personal layer to the album. “The Secrets I Know” is pretty much gone before you can really get to grips with it (there's a female vocal in there somewhere but I don't know who this is), barely a chance to appreciate the soft and yearning voice before we're on to “Our Gravest Threat Apart”, with some of those field recordings in the background adding a real sense of atmosphere, pathos and reality to the song. It's a little more upfront, a little more in your face, with sharp piano and tight percussion, the guitar this time electric I think (information on the album is not easy to come by, which is to say pretty much impossible) and though I don't know his band, the artist that comes to mind when I listen to this is Antimatter, where Mick Moss creates soundscapes out of loneliness and despair and somehow manages to shoot them through with threads of beauty, love and hope. The overarching theme through this song – and most of the album – is the refrain “there has to be another way.” More acoustic then is “The Solitary Path of a Convicted Man”, very introspective and emotional, with for the first time a really nice guitar solo, some sort of howling vocal which works very well in the context of the song, and I think it's probably unlikely you're going to hear any ten-minute keyboard solos or songs about dragons (yeah yeah, cliche I know) on this album, nor indeed do I expect Bruce to rock out at any point. It's not by any means a standard prog record – it may not even qualify as prog at all: certainly not in terms of song length. The title track, up next, is the second longest at just over six minutes. Most prog bands are often only getting going at this point. But as I say, not an ordinary album. There's almost a soft indie rock vibe to this, the vocal again restrained, the music firm but never overriding Soord's plaintive voice, and another good guitar solo here. I also detect certain elements of the darker side of a-ha here, though that might just be me. “Time Does Not Exist” quickly became one of my favourites on the album with its earworm hook, its gentle acoustic guitar and its almost country sensibility, some really nice piano too. There's a feeling of drama and urgency about the melody, quite epic in its way for such a short track, running a mere three minutes and change. Proof that you don't have to extend a song to twelve minutes to make it work – Grand Tour, I'm looking at you! Slightly longer by about thirty seconds, “One Misstep” comes in as the heaviest track, if anything here can be so described, with punchy but hollow percussion, almost like military drums beating out a slow tattoo, rising synth complementing Soord's low, tortured vocal, then the longest track is the six-and-a-half minute “You Hear the Voices”, with an instant hook in the melody from the very start, a recurring piano line that is really hard to get out of your head, should you for some reason wish to. Soord's vocal here is almost inaudible at first, crooning low and muted against slick bass and guitar, the soft percussion a heartbeat ticking away in the background. But it's a slowburner, and increases in intensity and power as the track goes on, with certain elements of the bleakest of Depeche Mode in there too. “Cut the Flowers” sounds like the sort of gardening tip you might get on the BBC in the afternoon, but in fact it refers to wreaths on graves, Soord channelling the best of Gilmour and the Edge at their most introspective, and again I can't help marking the comparison to Antimatter, especially on Planetary Confinement and Lights Out. The song veers from soft and bitter to tough and angry, but never loses its edge (sorry), and again Soord knows the old adage of less is more, this fine piece of music lasting for a mere four and a half minutes, to take us into the closer, which could be interpreted as a warning to a lover, but actually is a meditation on the inevitable exit we all have to perform from the stage of life, and is most likely directed to his children. “One Day I Will Leave You” engages the slow, plodding blues of Nick Cave at his darkest, with a very philosophical acceptance of the end. Mostly carried on simple strummed acoustic guitar, it nevertheless manages to insert its own little insidious earworm into the melody, and you can't help but hum this paean to the Great Beyond as the album ends. Quite darkly clever really; no redemption, no changing the world, no advice, just a simple thought: “don't mourn my passing, I was always passing through.” Songs / Tracks Listing 1. The Secrets I Know (2:24) 2. Our Gravest Threat Apart (4:14) 3. The Solitary Path of a Convicted Man (3:44) 4. All This Will Be Yours (6:04) 5. Time Does Not Exist (3:33) 6. One Misstep (4:00) 7. You Hear the Voices (6:54) 8. Cut the Flowers (4:35) 9. One Day I Will Leave You (5:17) Total Time 40:45 This album is labelled under crossover prog, but to be honest, were it not for Bruce Soord being the head Pineapple, I really don't think this would be considered prog at all. That's in no way a criticism; I don't think it should be put down as a prog album. There's very little progressive rock about it: it's got no multi-part suites, no intricate solos – keyboard or other – and the lyrics are all very earthy and mundane, with none of the exuberance or even attempts to avoid the real world that can characterise other prog bands and albums. What you do get is a very mature, straight-forward, frank testament from a man who has seen the underbelly of society at first hand, and worries what kind of world his children will inherit. It's not quite the grinning-deaths-head nihilism of a Tom Waits or a Nick Cave, but it's dark, introspective, challenging stuff. If you approach this album correctly (as I had not originally, not having read up on it) it should really make you think. It should also make you sad, angry, bitter, and maybe, just maybe, want to change things for the better. But if not, that's fine: I don't think Soord is setting out here to be any sort of a champion, nor sending out a clarion call to other shining knights. He's just shrugging, sighing and saying this is how it is. I wish it wasn't, but it is. Maybe all he wants us to do is look. And listen. Rating: 9/10 __________________ Trollheart: Signature-free since April 2018