There is a world out there. It is a world in which a lot of us seemingly have to share a lot of everything. Not in the true sense of sharing, but sharing as we have become accustomed to in these modern days. We experience, we have opinions, and we take photographs. We share those experiences, we share the opinions, and we share photos. Somehow that has become the norm.

It is strange and fascinating, and in a way, it all seems paradoxical. Prog was once for those who would indulge themselves in endless hours listening to album tracks on vinyl, often more alone than in a gathering of prog aficionados. Perhaps, if you were lucky, you could talk about the album you loved so much with one or two of your mates.

Now it’s 2015 and the prog world has been awaiting a new album by Steven Wilson. Anticipation was out there. Yet, was it the same anticipation that was felt, let’s say, 20 years ago? In what way did we then look forward to an album? In the last few months, talk of Hand. Cannot. Erase. has been in the air. Yet, were people eager for the music or eager for the moment to fill the net with observations?

These days it’s simply not just you in your anorak, reading the magazines and feeling the anticipation of a new album being released. Nowadays we share our thoughts, our experiences on the internet. We talk of freedom of speech and we push our views on anything, and on any music on the web. Sometimes it seems that sharing the views count even more than the music. And so it happens that views on the artist or the band often are part of the review that is written. What, if anything, do we know? We only have our own perspective on things and that is all we have. So, this review doesn’t claim to have the final statement on this release. It’s merely this reviewer’s point of view, after quite a few listening sessions.

Steven Wilson’s new album deals with isolation in modern day society, all be it, self-chosen. In a world where we all seem to be more sharing, at least in the digital sense, there is still the possibility of choosing your own way out. Yet, it struck Steven Wilson after having seen the documentary Dreams of a Life (about the life of Joyce Carol Vincent), that self-chosen isolation doesn’t just come to any old bag lady. Here was a young woman, attractive, popular, with a lot of friends and with a good job too.

Hand. Cannot. Erase. is not Joyce Carol Vincent’s story. It is an album that Steven wrote on exploring self-chosen isolation and everything that comes with it. The album does have both dark and light parts. What Steven has managed to do, was get behind a fictional character and draw a full life of a person who is drawn to isolation but whose emotions involve far more than just that. Of course, the story is not a story with a beginning and ending. There is no clear outcome or ending to it. Memories, feelings of happiness, feelings of being out of place, feelings of not belonging; Steven brought all this together in a set of lyrics, in music and artwork. Lasse Hoile sends his regards, a blog even, that belongs to the main character. There are still new blog entries which you can find at www.handcannoterase.com.

Fascination. That is what both the lyrics and the music brings. The way Steven has succeeded in juxtaposing dark with light, both in his lyrics and the composed music, is, to these ears, simply stunning. You don’t take a review copy of a new album out of its sleeve these days. It’s normally a watermarked, file-sharing-proof digital file. But with this record it wasn’t hard to have myself beamed up and landed somewhere back in the 1980s. The smell of an album cover, the first spin on the record table. I don’t know if that is done on purpose, but that is the way the songs work for me. There are references to music from that period and further back. Prog and pop. Not strange, as Steven, being the writer of both lyrics and music, has only his own input to choose from. It works to great effect.

Sure, I could write and write and write on the references to find in this music. I could argue on the Porcupine Tree parts being there or not, or on how I see this album in the perspective of all that Steven Wilson has released so far. I am not doing that. What I will do however, is stress the fact that Steven Wilson has selected fine men to record this album with him. Messrs Minnemann, Holzman, Beggs and Govan add their virtuosity to all the songs. Theo Travis’ parts, this time around, are somewhat limited. Yet, when they’re there, they shine.

Ninet Tayeb, an Israeli female singer, guests on vocals, adding even more to the concept and to the mystique of the album. Ninet was brought to Steven’s attention by Aviv Geffen and she really shines. This was the first time that Steven has had someone else sing his lyrics on a solo album. To add to that, there is a boys’ choir as well.

Anticipation. Wonder. Bemusement. Bewilderment. Here is an album that deserves your anticipation. An album that asks for exploration, that asks for you to fully experience it. Find your own way through it, think of it what you will, compare it with whatever you want. To these ears, it is well worth the experience, well worth exploring. A trip down memory lane and a triggering of questions on society and life as we know it. That happens. It doesn’t happen that often. Yet, in this case, it felt awe-inspiring. Thank you Mr. Wilson, for sharing.