Hajo Mueller

Steven Wilson wasn’t aiming to alienate close-minded fans— namely, progressive rock purists—with his fifth LP, last year’s To the Bone. But he won’t deny being delighted by their dissent, a happy byproduct of doing whatever the fuck he wants as a songwriter. “That’s what happens when you’re the kind of artist who likes to reinvent himself,” he says.

Wilson came along at the perfect time to be crowned a prog-rock god. Born in 1967, he released his first album with Porcupine Tree in 1992, more than a decade after the genre had faded from commercial and critical favor. And his résumé backs up the title. He’s created some of the most imaginative, expertly performed rock music of the past 25 years—both as a solo artist and Porcupine Tree’s bandleader—and he’s recently carried the prog torch in a more literal fashion by remixing classic albums from bands like King Crimson, Yes and Jethro Tull.

But the point remains: He doesn’t want to be the poster boy of any movement or revival. In his less famous projects, he’s ventured into post-rock and ambience (No-Man), art-rock (Blackfield), and experimental drone (Bass Communion). And with To The Bone, he channeled untapped influences in an attempt to show even more range—and to occupy a gaping hole in pop music.

“We’ve lost David Bowie and Prince, who are the equivalent of each other in the ‘70s and ‘80s,” he says. “They essentially occupy part of what I call the ‘creative mainstream.’ They are pop stars with No. 1 albums and singles; everyone knows their songs, but their music is quite experimental. In 2016, I spent a lot of time going back and listening to those two artists. There’s the very mainstream pop industry these days, and you have fantastic music happening in the underground. But you don’t have that middle ground where Bowie and Prince once reigned supreme, along with bands like The Police, Talking Heads, Depeche Mode. These artists would sometimes deal with quite dark subject matters, and the music would be quite experimental, but they were creating pop songs and trying to reach a mainstream audience. I miss that, and I think if I had a mission, then it is trying to bring back that progressive approach to creating pop music.”

The fan reaction has been fascinating. To the Bone shot to the top three on the U.K. charts (with a more modest placement in the U.S.), but some diehards immediately cried foul about the falsetto-laced, Abba-meets- ELO single “Permanating” and the sleek balladry of vocal showcase “Pariah.”

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“If you’re not upsetting at least some of your fan base or creating some kind of discussion and dissension, you’re probably not doing the right thing,” he reflects. “The problem comes when people decide that you exist within a particular genre. Some have decided I belong in this box and shouldn’t get out. To be honest, I take great delight in upsetting them because I think they need to be upset. In my travels, I meet people who believe that all the greatest music was made between 1970–1974 by about five bands, and you have to continue to pay homage to that; otherwise, you’re doing something wrong. I have those people in my audience every night—I know they’re there. They like a lot of what I do, which is great. But they don’t obviously like it when I do something that doesn’t fit into that very narrow definition. I’m pleased in a way. That’s the best indicator that I’ve evolved.”

As a more extreme example of fan frustration, he points to his friend Mikael Åkerfeldt, singer/guitarist of Swedish prog-metal act Opeth. “Mikael had death threats!” he says. “He had people say they were going to kill him. You really need to get some therapy at that point. There’s plenty of other music out there.”

Nonetheless, Wilson’s audience keeps showing up— both the loyal (and possibly irritated) die-hards, and maybe even some newbies that came onboard with To the Bone. And his schedule is only getting busier: He’s currently in the middle of a massive world tour, and he makes time to squeeze in work on remix projects during his downtime between gigs using a portable rig. “It’s a great way to make constructive use of a lot of time I have backstage, in dressing rooms, in hotels,” he says. “Otherwise, I’d be twiddling my thumbs.”

He’s already plotting another creative shift, having written three songs for his next LP. “The first thing I do is figure out what kind of musical world this new album is going to inhabit,” he says. “It’s difficult for me to articulate. I can’t easily say what it is, but it’s different again and quite fresh. I can say it’s going to be focused on songs but with slightly more experimental production techniques and, production- wise, a little less rock. Sonically, I think it will be a lot more strange and experimental, but still allied to this idea of songwriting and melody.”

The irony is obvious: As much as Wilson feels uncomfortable with the “progressive” label, his music defines the concept at its core. “The clue is in the title of the genre: ‘progressive,’” he says. “You’re supposed to do something different with it, aren’t you?”

This article originally appears in the June 2018 issue of Relix. For more features, interviews, album reviews and more, subscribe here.