Though perhaps not one of the most imperative parts of music reviewing, reading label press releases-- replete with purple prose and carefully manufactured quotations from the band members-- is certainly one of the most amusing. Aside from their inherent nature as glowingly positive propaganda, they almost always make at least one utterly ludicrous claim.

Additional fun can be had by attempting to interpret through press statements what the album will actually sound like. For instance, "harder-edged" might be short for, "We bought fuzz pedals." "Lo-fi" could be translated as, "We recorded it in a garbage can." "Audacious and experimental" could mean, "We put the fuzz pedals in the garbage can and rolled it down Lombard Street in San Francisco, thus capturing the ambience of the modern city." So, what does Porcupine Tree's Steven Wilson mean when he says that Lightbulb Sun, the quartet's latest album, is their "best work to date," calling it "organic" and "personal?"

It would appear that "personal" refers to the fact that about half the songs on the album deal with what I assume was the recent breakup of Wilson and his girlfriend of some years, and emotional investiture. It may also refer to the fact that many of his lyrics are whiny, boring, and fragmented. "This is a hate song just meant for you/ I thought that I'd write it down while I still could/ I hope when you hear this you'll want to sue," spews Wilson on the appropriately titled "Hatesong." You have to wonder how such passive attacks could heighten anyone's blood pressure, let alone have someone considering litigation.

"Feel So Low" and "Russia on Ice" offer similar pages out of Wilson's mental diary, sans revision or interest. He's not garnering any pity or sympathy with bombs like these. In fact, the better part of Lightbulb Sun's second half has me dreaming of dumping his sorry ass and finding someone who can at least come up with some decent rhymes about my heartless bitchery. And I'm not even dating him!

The "organic" comment seems to be in reference to the fact that this record was made in three months-- rather than the entire year it took to lay down 1998's Stupid Dream-- and thus, has some rough edges, production-wise. Most of these are endearing in a way that detracts the lyrical problems. Perhaps the best evidence of this philosophy at work comes with "Last Chance to Evacuate Planet Earth Before It is Recycled." Acoustic guitars and mandolin come crashing in after the petering out of "Shesmovedon," moving to short solos on fretless bass. Wilson whips off a quick vocal part about youthful romance, and then it's off to a dappling instrumental movement featuring the voice of Heaven's Gate cult leader Marshall Herff Applewhite, sampled from his video farewell.

So, is this Porcupine Tree's "best work to date?" In a word, no. It's an uneven, if still enjoyable listen, but this band has done much better work than this midway compromise between the spacy experimentalism of their early work and the abrupt right-turn into perfectionist prog-pop on Stupid Dream. We'll have to wait until next year to find out if there's still hope, when a supposedly more artistically daring follow-up is slated for release. For now, Signify or Stupid Dream are still your best bets for a tentative climb up the Porcupine Tree.

-Craig Griffith