Live Review: Steven Wilson

With tonight's show advertised as being presented in “quadraphonic surround sound”, it feels like it's trying not so much to be a concert but rather like a 'happening'. It seems like the kind of shit that went down in the '60s, or at least in a 24-year-old's approximation of what the '60s might have been like. And when Steven Wilson and his five-piece backing band take the stage – which they do half an hour after doors; there's apparently no time for support bands tonight – their set does feel like something much bigger than the usual international band you'd go out to see on a Saturday night.

First of all, there's the sheer breadth of sound in the solo material from Wilson. Though his day job band Porcupine Tree have never let themselves fall into a genre trap from which they haven't been able to escape, Wilson is positively all over the shop across records like The Raven That Refused To Sing (And Other Stories) and Grace For Drowning. From thrashy, balls-out jams where Wilson and his guitar compatriots hesh out to the out and out King Crimson-worshipping prog rock, to the disarmingly affecting ballads that Wilson can pen when sitting behind an acoustic guitar, the band feel like a sonic spaceship for the crowd assembled tonight. During engrossing numbers like The Watchmaker and Harmony Korine, which Wilson rightly introduces with a recommendation for Spring Breakers, the six-piece ensemble make us feel like we're orbiting the earth. As the ethereal flute parts float over the audience, the spacey ambience is impossible not to get taken by. As they switch and swap instruments, Wilson's crew all prove themselves as consummate musicians. Working as an ensemble, the group are capable of doing justice to every twist and turn in the frontman's songbook.

Then there's the atmosphere in The Tivoli. If the promise of a quadraphonic PA hasn't already convinced you that this is something special, Wilson is pulling out all the stops to give the fans value for money. There are the visualizations tied into Wilson's Raven record that play behind the band as they work through the newer stuff, ranging from mildly unsettling to rather creepy – a close-up of an old man's weathered face while the sound of a clock ticking pensively plays through the custom-rigged P.A. takes the cake in the creepiness stakes. Even if you walk across The Tivoli's floor and can't actually pick up what the quadraphonic surround sound system is doing that a regular P.A. wouldn't do, Wilson's charm – the frontman has the crowd eating out of his hand – and the strength of his solo material makes tonight feel like so much more than your average show.