Progressive rock and concept albums have a long history; extended, imagination-stretching music just seems to pair well with extended, imaginative narratives.
Case in point, the international progressive rock collective Big Big Train—currently with seven members hailing from England, Scotland, Italy, Sweden, Norway, and the USA—is about to issue its 16th studio release and, surprisingly enough, first concept album.
The lineup here is virtually the same as on 2024’s superb new beginning, The Likes Of Us: Alberto Bravin (lead vocals, guitar, keyboards), Nick D’Virgilio (drums, keyboards, guitar, vocals), Oskar Holldorff (keyboards, vocals), Claire Lindley (violin, acoustic guitar, vocals), Rikard Sjöblom (electric guitars, Hammond organ, vocals), and group co-founder Gregory Spawton (bass, bass pedals, 12-string guitar, vocals), joined this time by newest member Paul Mitchell (trumpet, vocals), as well as guests Brian Mullan (cello) and Maddie Wegg (clarinet, flute).
The big change from last time is in the creative direction and architecture of the album. The Likes Of Us was among the most intimate records the band has ever issued, where you were invited in as the bandmembers processed a series of personal calamities, including the loss of former lead singer David Longdon, who died in a tragic accident in 2021. Woodcut, though dedicated to Longdon, is a departure from this elegiac tone; this time BBT’s audience is treated to a flight of pure imagination.
At the same time, Woodcut is autobiographical in the most elemental sense—a story about the obsessive side of creative work, and how the act of making art affects or even transforms the artist. In this case, over the course of 16 tracks (four instrumental and 12 with lyrics), the band explores the world of The Artist, a maker of woodcuts who battles his own doubts about his art, only to become obsessed with a particular piece, which he carves, prints, and then finds himself drawn into, inhabiting the new world within the woodcut that he’s just created. It’s a clever construct that builds off the fact that what artists of all kinds do is to create a fresh iteration of reality for first themselves, and then their audience, to experience.
The story of Woodcut grew out of a concept that Bravin and Spawton brought to the band, that the group then thoroughly embraced. This is the most collaborative album Big Big Train has ever issued, with every member earning a songwriting credit, other than new addition Mitchell. In similar fashion, while Bravin takes the bulk of the lead vocals, Lindley, D’Virgilio, Holldorff and Sjoblom also sing lead at different points along the way. Even Spawton, known for his self-deprecating humor about his singing on demos, takes a verse. Having served as ringmaster and conceptual shepherd for the album, Bravin is credited as producer.
The album opens with brief instrumental “Inkwell Black,” a sort of a cello-and-clarinet overture establishing the mood, before we dive into the album’s first single “The Artist.” It’s a tremendous tune, introducing the story’s protagonist over a wonderfully knotty bass figure and powerful guitar/organ riffage. The music is complex, melodic, beautifully serious and seriously beautiful, particularly around 4:00, where the layers of melody and voices become nearly overwhelming, leading to a brilliant jam-and-solo segment.
Next, The Artist searches out a fresh piece of wood and begins to obsess over what he will create. The airy sound and accelerating momentum of “The Lie Of The Land” remind a bit of the group’s previous epic “Brooklands,” before they move into second single “The Sharpest Blade.” Lindley—who wrote the lyric and co-wrote the music—takes the lead vocal initially, with Bravin adding and sometimes alternating as the tension in the music builds, the lyric and music both conveying a sense of being possessed by outside forces.
“Albion Press” features Sjöblom, Holldorff and Bravin in a heavy jam with an almost prog-metal edge before it breaks down and Bravin’s vocals begin. As D’Virgilio joins on unison vocals, the Artist’s image comes to life and things get weird and dreamy. “Arcadia” finds him stepping into the new world he’s created (“I walk into a world / Shaped by my own hand / Once in inkwell black / Now a spring and summer land.”) as gentle, pastoral music builds. Then, as he turns back to try to find his way home, the music crescendos beautifully. “Second Press” closes out the first half, a brief, transitional instrumental cousin to “Inkwell Black.”
As he often has on recent albums, Nick D’Virgilio contributes an especially heavy and dynamic piece. Opening the second half, “Warp And Weft” is full of tripwire tension, energy and mystery, building to a middle section featuring the entire group trading lines in a bravura call-and-overlapping-answer cacophony, and then on to searing solos from Holldorff, then Sjöblom as the rhythm section drives hard underneath. Spawton features on 12-string guitar on his “Chimaera,” an airy song whose lyrics tie together threads of the story while calling back familiar phrases and song titles. Holldorff takes the penultimate verse as the track builds toward a shimmering finale that closes with gorgeous vocal rounds.
“Dead Point” starts out feeling like an “advance the plot” number from musical theater… and then Sjöblom takes a verse as they illustrate the Artist’s battle with madness, and the song begins to metamorphosize before your ears, rolling dynamically through synth and guitar solos, voices leaving and re-entering like a classic Queen song. “Light Without Heat” is rather slight, its featured 12-string guitar carrying the moment early, with tasteful solos and gorgeous choral vocals bringing it home. “Dreams in Black and White” brings back the vocal rounds, a whole-band throwaround leading to another big, echoey, Gilmour-esque solo from Sjöblom as The Artist continues to search for the way home.
That quest takes musical form in “Cut and Run,” a driving, percussive, shapeshifting, occasionally fusion-y instrumental that offers every player a moment or two to shine. The heavier, jazzier parts may be too much for some longtime fans who favor the band’s more pastoral and plaintive works, but with this much pure talent in a band, sometimes you’ve got to let those horses run! Briefer instrumental “Hawthorn White” follows, a pretty Holldorff-Lindley duet that builds and falls back nicely in the later going.
Big Big Train has repeatedly demonstrated a gift for finishing strong on albums. Penultimate track “Counting Stars” opens with a particularly gorgeous bit of 12-string guitar from Spawton as Bravin sings “Dreaming in gold / In gold and in green”; they paint with sound so effectively that you can actually feel these colors… it’s remarkable. When Spawton steps up later on to sing what amounts to a personal credo—“Lay bare your heart / Let in the light / And then outrun your fear / Put it out of sight / You can choose any path / But aim for the heights”—it’s magical. Sjöblom in particular shines here and on closer “Last Stand,” which offers this manifesto for creatives: “Time to speak of love and hope / Life and death and letting go / Take each day not as it comes / Make it new and make it your own.” Bravin’s dramatic reading of the song’s final lines (no spoilers) is just magnificent and, after a fanfare wrapped around from “The Artist,” ends the song, and album, on a high note.
The multiple instances of multiple vocalists on a single track suggest that this lineup has embraced the lesson of last album’s “Miramare,” i.e. when you have an entire band of potential lead vocalists, put them to work. The same could be said of the players; this album is the sound of a world class instrumental ensemble firing on all cylinders. Beyond pure skill, though, what takes it all to the next level is that this particular lineup clearly loves playing with and off of one another; even in the most serious and dramatic moments on the album, the enthusiasm in their performances is palpable.
Woodcut finds Big Big Train taking on the challenge of a concept album and absolutely smashing it. It’s a gripping story underscored by some of the finest prog around, gentle and pretty one moment, bold and muscular the next, and engaging from its first moment to its last.