I don't know if it's ever happened to you, but sometimes I go back to certain records with the feeling that I'm listening to them for the first time. It happened to me with Hand. Cannot. Erase. by Steven Wilson, an album that, incredibly, has just turned 10 years old.
When I first heard it in 2015, I was struck by its story: a woman who dies in complete solitude and no one misses her for years. I found it heartbreaking, yes, but I saw it as a foreign story, something far away. Today, a decade later, I listen to it with different ears, with a different look. And I can't help thinking: how many of us are closer to that reality than we imagine?
An album that hurts and fascinates
Musically, Hand. Cannot. Erase. is impeccable. Wilson plays with progressive rock, electronic and pop with an incredible effortlessness. But the most powerful thing is not his technical virtuosity, but the emotion that every note carries. Songs like ‘Routine’ hit me harder now. Ninet Tayeb's vocals on the vocal are pure despair, and I suddenly feel the weight of monotony, of life moving on even though one has fallen behind. Perfect Life, with its almost hypnotic rhythm, makes me think of the nostalgia of what could have been and was not.
And then there is ‘Ancestral’, where everything explodes. It is chaotic, intense, almost violent, as if it represented that moment when silence becomes unbearable. And when we get to ‘Happy Returns’, with its farewell disguised as tranquillity, I can't help but feel a lump in my throat. But to really understand the journey this album proposes, it's worth pausing at each song.
The story in each song
1. “First Regret / 3 Years Older”
The childhood and youth of the protagonist. It begins with a nostalgic atmosphere and evolves into a vibrant, progressive track that shows us how, as the years go by, life becomes more routine and less exciting. It opens with a soft synth loop, creating an introspective atmosphere. Then, the band enters with an acoustic and electric guitar riff very much in the vein of Rush and Yes. Marco Minnemann's drumming is complex and dynamic, giving it a classic progressive-rock feel.
2. “Hand Cannot Erase”
A moment of apparent happiness. The protagonist is in a loving relationship, enjoying life, but deep down there is a feeling that something is out of her control. It is one of the more accessible songs on the album, with a catchy groove and lighter instrumentation. The use of clean, reverbed guitars gives it a pop feel, while Nick Beggs' bass sounds very present, giving the song a punch.
3. “Perfect Life”
A monologue that remembers an adoptive sister who may never have existed. The nostalgia for an idealised past contrasts with the cold electronic production, reflecting the emotional disconnection of the protagonist. Totally different from the rest of the album. It is built on an electronic beat with a deep synthetic bass. The spoken word vocals create a cold and distant narrative tone, while the ambient synths and pads create a dreamy feel.
4. “Routine”
One of the saddest songs on the album. It talks about the repetition of everyday actions as a way of dealing with emptiness, but sooner or later the repressed pain finds a way out. It begins minimalistically, with delicate piano and Wilson's cool voice. Then the orchestration and drums build to a devastating climax with Ninet Tayeb's heartbreaking vocals. The mix is cinematic, with a sense of vast space.
5. “Home Invasion / Regret #9”
Here the protagonist is immersed in the digital world. Social networks, news, entertainment… everything but facing reality. The music reflects this information overload, with moments of instrumental frenzy and a spectacular keyboard solo. Here Wilson dives right into the more technical progressive, with dissonant riffs and jazz-fusion elements. On “Regret #9”, Adam Holzman's keyboard solo is one of the album's most brilliant moments, with a classic 70s-style analogue sound.
6. “Transience”
A breath. A short and melancholic piece that reflects on the transience of life and the fragility of memory. A short, acoustic and melancholic track. Wilson uses subtle vocal overdubs and layers of arpeggiated guitars to create an intimate atmosphere. The densest song on the album. Heavy, low-tuned guitars, accompanied by a complex rhythmic base and electronic passages. The mix is aggressive and dark, representing the emotional turbulence of the protagonist.
7. “Ancestral”
The breaking point. The protagonist has already severed all ties with the outside world. The music is dark, heavy and drooping, reflecting her extreme isolation and inner struggle.
8. “Happy Returns / Ascendant Here On…”
The farewell. The protagonist writes a letter to a loved one saying that all is well, even though we know it is not. The melody is melancholic, and in ‘Ascendant Here On’ the music dissolves into an ethereal soundscape, as if the story is fading away along with the protagonist. It is one of the most emotional songs on the album. Wilson's acoustic guitar and voice sound vulnerable, almost cold. Then the instrumentation grows with subtle strings and melancholic piano. On “Ascendant Here On…”, floating synthesizers create a sense of transcendence, as if the story is slowly dissolving.
More than an album, a warning
10 years later, I still find new things in this album. I now see it as a reflection of our world, where we are hyper-connected but more alone than ever. It's a story of isolation, but also of how we get there: not overnight, but little by little, letting routine, indifference and noise consume us.
If you've never heard of it, do so. And if you already know it, I invite you to rediscover it. Perhaps, as happened to me, you will listen to it with new ears. Did you already know this album? What is your relationship with this album? Did it mark you as much as it did me?
By: Mario David Rodriguez Medina
Musician and sound engineer, general producer at Oranshnote