Greetings, Spirit of Cecilia music lovers! In this post, Brad Birzer and Tad Wert revisit a classic No-Man album, Schoolyard Ghosts, from 2008.

Tad: Brad, I’m so glad you suggested we discuss this album. I picked it up when it first came out. I had just discovered Steven Wilson’s Porcupine Tree, and I was snapping up anything I could find that he was involved in. No-Man is certainly different from Porcupine Tree, but Wilson and Tim Bowness make beautiful music in their own way.

As I listened to this album once again, I was struck by how calming it is (with the exception of that raucous opening to “Pigeon Drummer”). For me, “Truenorth” is the standout track. When I first got Schoolyard Ghosts, I didn’t take the time to appreciate how great a song it is. It slowly unfolds for nearly 13 minutes, but it never lags. Tim’s vocals are so hushed and warm, while Steven’s acoustic guitar accompaniment is perfect.

Brad: Tad, thanks so much for such a brilliant opening to this dialogue.  I think you nailed it all very perceptively.   And, I’m with you on all of this.  

The best way to describe the music is, as you so aptly put it, “hushed and warm.”  Delicate and lush also come to mind as descriptives as well, though delicate might be taken as derogatory by some readers.  I certainly mean it in only the most positive sense.

This was my first No-man album, and, at the time it came out, I was buying basically everything that the label Kscope was producing.  I had already been a Steven Wilson fan–since 2002–but I’d not delved into No-man for some reason.  Porcupine Tree, yes.  Blackfield, yes.  But, bewilderingly, not No-man.  This, of course, all changed with Schoolyard Ghosts.

Indeed, Schoolyard Ghosts rather blew me away in 2008, and it continues to do so over a decade and a half later.  I never grow tired of this album.  I love the lilt of the instruments, Bowness’s plaintively gorgeous vocals, and the fine production of the music.  I also love the vocal harmonies that Bowness and Wilson create.

I can state now, in 2024, that I’m as much a fan of Tim Bowness as I am of Steven Wilson–which is saying a lot for anyone who knows me.

Since 2008, I’ve pretty much devoured everything that Bowness has written and released.  I’ve come to the conclusion that he’s our generation’s Mark Hollis.  He was definitely influenced by Hollis and Talk Talk.  One can hear it in his phrasing and in his lyrics.  It’s clear that Bowness is in love with words as much as he is with music.  

Bowness also reminds me very much of our own Kevin McCormick.  What an incredible team they would make.

Tad: Yes, Brad, the ghost of Mark Hollis is definitely present here! I find it interesting that Schoolyard Ghosts was your first introduction to No-Man. Mine was 1994’s Flowermouth, which was the only No-Man title available at my local used record store. It’s very poppy – almost like Pet Shop Boys – and as I completed my No-Man collection, it became clear that every album had its own unique identity. Initially, I was disappointed that Bowness and Wilson didn’t sound more like Porcupine Tree, but why should they? Wilson has always been a lover of many different genres, and No-Man was a completely different entity for him than PT. As a matter of fact, No-Man was more popular, sales-wise, than PT, which, at the time, was more of a side project.

Okay! Back to the topic at hand. I’ve been listening to the 5.1 surround mix of Schoolyard Ghosts, and it is really good. There are no obvious “whooshes” from front speakers to back and left to right, but rather various sounds pop up and fade away behind me, like the static that closes out “All Sweet Things”, the steel guitar in “Song of the Surf”, or some gentle beeps in “Streaming”. The percussion in the middle section of “Truenorth” has enhanced echo, which is nice.

Speaking of “Truenorth”, I have to say again that this is a near-perfect song! The 12:48 album version puts the single version to shame. I love the “Sweet surrender to the night” section that closes it out – it brings the song to such a melodically satisfying conclusion. 

The only – literally – jarring song on the album for me is “Pigeon Drummer”. In the right context, I can appreciate raucous dissonance, but “Pigeon Drummer” feels out of place on this album. Based on Wilson’s and Bowness’s delightful podcast, The Album Years, I know they both love avant-garde music and musique concrete. However, I think that song messes with the overall flow of the album. Tell me why I’m wrong, Brad!

Brad:  Tad, I’m really impressed that you go all the way back to 1994’s Flowermouth.  Do you remember how you came to it?  I’d love to read that story.

I don’t want to make too much of the Talk Talk connection, but I really feel that “Pigeon Drummer” is No-man’s take on “Desire” from Spirit of Eden.  In that context, to me at least, the song makes perfect sense as a necessary break in an otherwise very delicate and haunting flow.  It’s intentionally jarring, thus making the rest of the album even more beautiful.  In fact, one of the many things I love about this album is the intensity of the overall flow.

I’m in complete agreement with you regarding “Truenorth.”  It is a stunning piece of music, perhaps perfect, even.  It builds so well.  I must admit, it reminds me of an updated Traffic tune.  Not as jazzy as Traffic, of course, but still in a Steve Winwood/Dave Mason vein.  And, I love the lyrics:

You survived another winter
You survived where nothing grew

The days felt cold and never changing
So you just slept the whole way through

When you think about the future
It’s like the past, but hard and small

An old idea you stole from someone
A borrowed dream that’s born to fall

Take a taxi through the snow
Tell them you love them –
Don’t let go

Through the tunnel moving slow
Tonight’s there’s nowhere
You won’t go

You survived yourself
You survived inside the lost world
The dreams of love

And, to be sure, I really love the lyrics to the opening track, “All Sweet Things”:

The run-down streets, the civil wars
You don’t go there anymore –
It’s how you used to live

The trampled hopes, the made-up laws
The itchy feet, the pub quiz bores –
It’s so hard to forgive

Weekend slimmers count their chains
Still wanting someone else to blame
You watch them come and go

Empty nightclub escapades
They tell you more than words can say –
That open doors get closed

The empty rooms, the empty house
Someday soon, you’ll work it out –
Still finding the way back home

The schoolyard ghosts, the playtime fears
You take your pills, they disappear –
The people that you’ve known

I’m curious who wrote these, Bowness or Wilson.  Either way, they’re fantastic.

Tad: Brad, Flowermouth was my introduction to No-Man, because it was the only No-Man album I could find at the record store, and I couldn’t wait for it to be delivered from an online dealer! 

Thank you for sharing the lyrics to “Truenorth” and “All Sweet Things”. I think Bowness must have written the ones to “Truenorth” at least, because there is a sweetness (for lack of a better word) to them that I can’t see Wilson pulling off. His lyrics are usually much darker, which is why he might have had a  hand in “All Sweet Things”. 

“All Sweet Things” is my second-favorite song on Schoolyard Ghosts. It’s a nice opening track, because it sets the mood for the entire album. It has a beautiful melody which slowly unfolds. The mostly acoustic instrumentation is very warm (there’s that adjective again!) and inviting. 

I’ll concede your point in defending “Pigeon Drummer”. Without the tension it adds to the overall mix, the album would probably suffer from a sameness in style and atmosphere. You can’t appreciate calm beauty without a little harshness to get through!

Brad: Tad, thanks for such a great dialogue.  I was really happy to revisit Schoolyard Ghosts, and it’s always excellent “talking” music with you.  As you’ve pointed out here and elsewhere, modern music simply would not be where it is without Bowness and Wilson.  Each have contributed so much–as creative talents and as analysts.  The current issue of PROG magazine has an excellent article on early No-man.  As Wilson notes, the two would rather talk Spirit of Eden than hit the club scene.  Amen.

Tad: Amen, indeed!