With a catalog of excellent recordings dating back to 1999's
Abducting the Unicorn
,
Pineapple Thief
began realizing their almost peerless musical potential after 2008's
Tightly Unwound
. Since then, their music found an exploratory space between the expansive pop of
Radiohead
and
Elbow
, and 21st century prog. When
King Crimson
drummer
Gavin Harrison
joined the ranks on 2016's
Your Wilderness
, frontman/songwriter/guitarist
Bruce Soord
welcomed his rich, polyrhythmic approach; it added considerable drama to the band's older songs. The drummer settled in more on 2018's
Dissolution
, contributing intuitive charts to
Soord
's poignant lyrics and melodies.
Harrison
is fully integrated on
Versions of the Truth
. He serves in his established role as well as being a songwriting partner for
, who began writing the album at his home studio in Glastonbury, deeply troubled by global politicians who no longer bothered disguising their lies. Not content to write a political album,
sought to explore this phenomenon in interpersonal relationships. He requisitioned
to provide insight, charts, new rhythms, textures, and structured harmonies that communicated the duality in his lyrics.
The appearance of a "post truth" world emerges in the title track opener: "It's not how I remember it â?¦" is the set's mantra.
explicates two divergent points of view among close-knit individuals who struggle with the meaning and motivation of one another. The tune changes shape several times as instruments rotate primary roles.
's guitars give primacy to
Steve Kitch
's keyboards, then
's marimbas and kit. All together they create a maelstrom: Guitar riffs collide with keyboard vamps and
Jon Sykes
' ominous bassline. The jam flirts with a chorus for over five-and-a-half-minutes, but never delivers. "Break It All" emerges with heavy, riff-laden swagger. The hard rock vamp and reverbed vocals are accentuated by punchy snare and kick drums,
's distorted open-tuned chords, and a knotty synth run. "Driving Like Maniacs" is a moody ballad with ghostly vocal. A snare and cymbal shuffle joins a piano and other keyboards in buoying the existential weariness in the singer's delivery. In both of these tracks,
's words explore the impact divergent truths have on private lives, even as they interact with the outside world.
's ability to deliver hooks remains abundant and it's amply displayed on first single "Demons" and the rocker "Leave Me Be." The searing "Our Mire" showcases the fault lines of a seemingly irresolvable dispute with grace, honesty, and even elegance. As first-person narrator,
represents both views as
's marimba and drum kit contrast the individuals dynamically. Closer "The Game" is painted in layers of keyboards and tom-tom drumming. Its lyric weight is illustrated by a fragmented narrative and the repetitive refrain, "It's not a game/anymoreâ?¦." Here
entwines the personal and political with bewildered urgency. While
's second half is more subtle and laid-back, it is also more adventurous; it adds dimension and balance to an already deeply resonant outing. ~ Thom Jurek