Porcupine Tree – Live at Help

Editorial prologue: let’s peel back the curtain a bit. There’s generally a lag between when I write a post and when it actually goes up on the blog, so I have some time away from it and it’s fresh before I make any final edits. The meat of this post, for example, was pulled together back in May. However, between then and now the subject of this post was yanked from YouTube. I’ll provide a link if it’s ever reuploaded. In the meantime, blame Gavin.


 

28 March 1997

“I don’t remember Porcoopine Tree having the Your Movie Sucks guy as the lead singer, the Alien Ant Farm guy on bass, Robert Palmer of the Cure on the keys, and Some Jerk With A Camera on the drums. What a good band.” —Emily “Annotated Fall Out Boy” Nejako

Yes, we both know Mister The Cure is actually Robert Smith. It’s funnier this way. Please take your pedantry elsewhere.

During the Signify era, Porcupine Tree got big in Italy. There, they had a superfan in Nick Vannini, who just so happened to own a musical distribution company, and who thus had the necessary cachet to give the band serious radio play down there. And the gambit worked, to the point where playing in Italy meant experiencing uniquely large, rapturous, sold-out venues, and, most importantly, a glimpse of what it was like to be a rock star and not just a jobbing musician. Coma Divine was recorded there for a reason.

Of course, with the rock-star adulation they enjoyed in Italy comes rock-star drudgery. Photoshoots. Interviews. Talk show appearances. I’m not going to exhaustively cover bootlegs and TV appearances in this space…but I think we can make an exception here, because ye freaking gods. Their appearance on Help was a trainwreck visible from space.

It’s not the language barrier. Wilson and PT have had plenty of good interviews with people whose English wasn’t perfect. But this show and this band were nevertheless such a colossal mismatch I’m left wondering if either party had heard of the other before they came crashing together.

I’m working off of very incomplete information. I surmise that Help was a videomusic program, filmed in Bologna, whose format, if this episode is representative, involved live band performances separated by short interview segments. The show ran from 1996 to 2000 for the similarly relatively short-lived TMC 2. The host is Gabriele “Red Ronnie” Ansaloni, who’s been a professional music nerd in some capacity or other since the late 70s and by the time Wilson and company showed up had been presenting for radio and TV for fourteen years. That’s literally all I got.

I need (heh) help. So, I’ve tagged in my friend Emily Nejako of the Annotated Fall Out Boy blog, who kindly provided the epigraph for this post. What follows is a heavily abridged but otherwise lightly edited transcript of the Discord chat we had while we were attempting to make sense of what we were watching:

EN: “is it troo that you are more famous in italy than in your own count-rey”
TD: at that time, yes
EN: this is concurrent with oasis and the spice girls
TD: YEP

N.b. Although I want to stress once again that the language barrier wasn’t the issue, we nevertheless roundly mocked Red Ronnie’s fractured and heavily accented English throughout the show. Because I love you, I spared you most of the snark, but this one stayed because it’s an example of the sort of ridiculously softball questions he typically lobbed at Steven.

EN: [walking very slowly over to steven]
TD: guuHHHH
EN: he’s so scared
TD: i would be too
EN: “you seem to have roots in the 70s”
EN: what did the host just look at his hair
TD: I GUESS
EN: [steven stares into camera like he’s on the office]

EN: “why are the songs long” “because they’re long”
EN: good job

N.b. This was an exchange between Red Ronnie and Chris Maitland that’s another example of the sort of questions the band typically got on this show. One does wonder what sort of answer Ronnie was expecting out of Maitland here.

TD: oh god
TD: richard
TD: we’re already off on the wrong foot because he started with ex-japan
EN: i’m crying
EN: “is this the thing you played in japan”
EN: “pac-man?”
EN: PLEASE DON’T TOUCH HIS EQUIPMENT
TD: yep
TD: HE’S STILL TALKING ABOUT JAPAN
EN: WHY
EN: i feel his suffering

N.b. Ron thought it’d be a good idea to play with Richard’s old synthesizer for a bit. It doesn’t take a rocket surgeon to understand why this is Not Done. Ron would make Barbieri deeply uncomfortable throughout the show.

EN: i want to hear more porcupine tree so to simulate it i’m blowing into my beer bottle
EN: he’s like curling up into a ball
TD: yes!
EN: the next time he approaches him he’s gonna be rocking back and forth in a fetal position
TD: oh aye
EN: shut up about japan
EN: what about MY waifu, italy

N.b. Ronnie’s interrogating Barbieri about his relationships with Sylvian, Jansen, and Karn. It’s worth mentioning here that Ronnie uncritically repeated the [untrue] myth that Sylvian was voted Sexiest Man in the World and that it contributed to him, to put it politely, developing an ego later on.

EN: HELP
EN: call the help line
EN: do you need
EN: help
TD: i think they need help
EN: “why do you want to destroy?”
EN: i want to destroy his ass

N.b. Ronnie, on Wilson’s request, read from the lyrics to Radioactive Toy, and interpreted the line “give me the freedom to destroy” as “give me, Steven, who is on this show right now, the freedom to destroy.”

TD: ohgod
TD: he’s talking to barbieri again
TD: AND
TD: HE’S TALKING ABOUT JAPAN AGAIN
EN: SHUT UP ABOUT JAPAN

N.b. Barbieri finally lost patience with Ronnie’s constant badgering about his time with Japan and explained that he’s not there as an ex-Japan member and he would really like to be looking forward instead of backward, so could we please focus on what he’s doing now.

TD: wilson gets all the pedal geekery and richard gets an inquisition about his time with japan
EN: god
TD: all richard got about his equipment was a quick thing about how old his one synth was
EN: depressing

N.b. Ronnie and Wilson had a moment, stemming from another awkward question about how he always goes barefoot, where they mutually geeked out over Wilson’s pedals and how they altered his guitar sound. Notably, Ronnie keeps a respectful distance from Wilson and doesn’t try to play with his toys. This is, in essence, the one moment where we get a glimpse of how the show is supposed to work.

EN: WHOWOWOOO
TD: AWKWARRD
EN: WOOWOOWOOO HERE COMES THE CRINGY MUSIC SHOW POLICE
TD: DINGDINGDINGYEP

N.b. I have no words to describe precisely what Ronnie does here. You just gotta see it.

EN: why are they giving out candy
EN: is this payment for them suffering through this
EN: “You Don’t Know This Kind oF Food?”
TD: craig ferguson use to joke on the late late show “we give the audience free candy”
EN: omg
TD: this is an innovation
TD: we give the band free candy too
TD: AND THAT’S IT
EN: yay we lived
TD: yay
EN: I CAN’T BELIEVE I ATE THE WHOLE THING

I can’t believe we ate the whole thing, either.

This should not have gone as disastrously as it did. Ronnie’s been presenting for as long as Wilson’s been releasing music, and has been in the music business for about as long as Barbieri’s been releasing music. The man clearly knows his stuff. We should, by all rights, have had a show that was just as engrossing throughout as it was those precious few minutes when Wilson was showing off his pedals. And yet, somehow, the combination of Gabriele Ansaloni and Porcupine Tree produced nothing but industrial-strength awkward and some of the worst interview questions Emily or I have ever heard.

But at least it’s not the Jason interview.

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Porcupine Tree – Live at Den Bosch

10 February 1995

There are two other live bootlegs before this one, both recorded in 1994 in Uden, Netherlands, one at Club Nieuwe Pul in January, one at the Planet Pul festival in July. On YouTube, the only chunks of the January show within easy Googling distance are Burning Sky, Radioactive Toy, and incomplete audio of Voyage 34. The person who posted the last thing says the quality stinks—and indeed, it sounds like something very obviously recorded on home equipment in 1994—but it still holds up better than similar footage recorded on an iPhone.

Don’t some of you start now.

The July performance exists in its entirety, fortunately, but beyond the novelty of holy crap they’ve been on the road like what six months and already they’re at a freaking festival, it isn’t something we haven’t heard before. (And yes, I am going to say it, why on earth can’t we see Wilson’s tootsies?) Also…PT, especially Space Era PT, and festivals? Not a good match. When they’re outside they look as if the sun, even filtered through rain and a thick layer of clouds, will burn them alive.

Now the Den Bosch show, here’s Porcupine Tree in its natural habitat. Themselves, in a dark room, bathed in reds, greens, blues, and purples, playing the sort of prog a raver would make and watching it reverberate back and forth across Willem Twee’s sacred sonic cavern. Let the music flow through you, indeed. Wilson himself is withdrawn and slightly uncomfortable, hiding behind an oversized striped shirt (same one he wore at Planet Pul, interestingly) and a vaguely Shannon-Hoon-esque mane of hair, more worried about putting the right notes in the right order than any sort of theatrics. His voice is barely audible at times, drowned out by the music. But there he remains, delivering the goods like nobody’s business.

Let’s now talk about an early manifestation of something that would become inescapable and insufferable: the Male Steven Wilson Fan. When Wilson asks the audience who has Up the Downstair, there’s this one gentleman who overenthusiastically shouts YEAH and starts shouting for Burning Sky the way people at other concerts shout for Freebird. It would transpire over the course of the video that there are others like him in the audience, gleefully making their presence known over the people everyone else actually came to see.

Disclaimer for the butthurt: of course not all SW fans who happen to identify as male. If you’re not part of the problem, you’re not part of the problem. But oh Lord do I hate the people who are. Put it to you this way: I don’t like recording concerts on iPhones, for the reasons most people don’t. Yeah, you want to preserve a moment and be able to relive it at your leisure. I get that. However, in so doing you’re pulling yourself out of the concert experience, and the moment you’re trying to capture now doesn’t and can’t exist. I’ve only ever recorded any concert anything once, and that was to share a particular song with someone not at the show who really likes that one song…but that meant I couldn’t enjoy the song myself.

If I’m at a show, I would rather be stuck behind ten serial concert recorders than one Male Steven Wilson Fan. The serial concert recorders are only hurting themselves and should be left alone (and, of course, their sacrifice gives us concert footage on YouTube, which is a bonus). The Male Steven Wilson Fans are hurting everyone else. They are loud, drunk, and obnoxious, the musical fandom equivalent of football hooligans or Philadelphia Eagles fans. I realize Wilson isn’t the only artist to attract these sorts of people, and I’m sure it’s worse with other artists, but with him there’s a Type. The gentlemen who got all shouty after Always Never would over the years grow more weirdly obsessive and sycophantic. You know the guy whose favorite SW solo album is The Raven that Refused to Sing, who swears up and down that Wilson was the only good thing about Blackfield, and who harbors a particular and entirely disproportionate hatred for iPods? That’s him.

These people need to get a life. The person chronicling Steven Wilson’s discography album by album is telling a chunk of his fandom to get a life. That’s where we’re at here. Take up knitting. Read a good book. Push against the artifice of gender. For once, do something other than sit in a dark room where the only light comes in cool hues from an artfully lit stage where four men play psychedelic music. You should not be what you consume. Now please, go forth and contain multitudes.