Anoraknophobia

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Author: Peter Podbrežnik

Artist: Marillion
Label: Intact Records
Released: 2001
Running time: 63:40
Rating: 4/5

»Anoraknophobia« was the twelfth studio album from British art rock greats Marillion and their first for Intact. After a successful American tour, made possible by generous financial help from their loyal fans, they turned to those fans once again and, following »Marillion.com« (1999), asked them to help fund a new album. The response once more exceeded all expectations, and the band thanked the fans who had sent in pre-orders and so paid for the album before it was even recorded with a special double edition of »Anoraknophobia«, plus their names printed inside the booklet. »Anoraknophobia« was the first Marillion album to miss the UK chart, even though musically it was better in every way than both its predecessors, namely »Radiation« (1998) and »Marillion.com« (1999).

Its odd title is a pun on arachnophobia (the fear of spiders), a mash-up of the words ‘anorak’ and ‘phobia’. According to singer Steve ‘Mr. H’ Hogarth, the title really means ‘anorak no phobia’, i.e. no fear of anoraks. For a band not exactly known for its humor, where Mr. H and old drumming tomcat Ian Mosley are about as jokey as it gets, »Anoraknophobia« was definitely an unusual experiment: between certain lyrics (»Separated Out«), the album title and the original cover with its multicolored ‘Kennys’ (a character from the popular American animated TV series South Park), you can tell that Marillion didn’t want to come across as overly serious this time. Maybe it was one more way of shaking off any link to the ‘neo prog rock’ tag that some media still like to pin on them, even though they’d more or less finished with that term and musical direction back in 1989. 

Opener »Between You And Me« was picked as the album’s only single. Although it’s a pretty commercially minded track with a mischievous melody and a catchy chorus, it failed to chart. That’s a bit of a shame in its own way, since the great experimenters Marillion showed right from the start of the album that they still had a remarkable knack for forging hypnotic melodies with hit potential. Its Britpop pulse and lively tempo are backed by an all-in vocal performance from H, full of rebellious fire, and by a great rhythmic interplay between Mosley and bassist Pete Trewavas. 

»Quartz« is a chapter all its own, both excellent and inventive, and even one of the most unique creations of their entire career. Keyboardist Mark Kelly really shines here, gliding with astonishing ease between layers of colorful synth textures, whether he’s weaving electronically spiced digital patterns or orchestrally seasoned keyboard curtains. The latter even smell of good old Mellotron. Trewavas’s thickened bass line keeps a mischievous jazzy pulse going throughout. Inside this wonderful, slightly dreamy and enigmatic track, the complex atmosphere shifts practically from second to second, while Mr. H, singing alongside the agitated guitar passages of the ever-excellent Steve Rothery, helps keep up its energetic charge. Somewhere in the middle, after a short guitar improvisation and H’s furious vocal snarling, comes an unexpected but highly effective twist into an ethereal, almost space-rock section, where the combination of Kelly’s digital patterns, peaking in a distinctive spacey effect, Rothery’s mellifluous guitar passages and H’s high-flying vocal frequencies is simply thrilling. 

With its triumphant chorus and positive atmosphere, »Map Of the World« is a perfect example of a solid bridge between pop rock and art rock, so it’s no surprise it quickly became a favorite live staple. At times it sounds like some forgotten Marillion classic from the early nineties, and in the ultra-melodic chorus you can clearly hear Trewavas’s backing vocal harmonies too. Lush orchestral textures add a grandiose touch. The run of great songs continues with the contemplative classic »When I Meet God«, which, with its gentle acoustic guitar passages, symphonic keyboard curtains and H’s heart-wrenching vocal performance, comes across as one of the most moving moments on »Anoraknophobia«. The subtle instrumental ending is an especially interesting twist. The lyrics, which apart from socially critical themes are more or less about trouble with women, aren’t exactly the album’s strong suit, but this very song features one of H’s better lyrics, addressing his god as a woman. After Fish’s departure in 1989, Marillion struggled honestly hard to get their lyrics, which became far less confessional, to reach their former high level at least now and then, and even then they often needed outside help from John Helmer, who didn’t take part in »Anoraknophobia«. 

The funky, moody »The Fruit Of the Wild Rose« has a slow start and a rather transparent love lyric, but the moment Kelly’s Hammond organ drops in, it tells you this won’t be your usual clichéd ballad with which Marillion wanted to blow on the souls of all owners of broken hearts. H’s outstanding vocal performance, with a generous helping of varied emotions clearly felt, is once again at an enviable level, while the eclectic structure of the composition is held together by an interplay of modernist synth textures and subtle guitar passages. The weirdest but still fun experiment is undoubtedly »Separated Out«, with its psychedelic hard rock ambience and joking lyrics, with which the band wanted to pay tribute to all its loyal followers. The lyrics mention ‘freaks’, which is the long-running tongue-in-cheek name for all Marillion followers, i.e. members of their fan club. The wound-up rhythmic pulse comes with thick layers of Hammond organ and agitated guitar passages, while H’s vocals burst with mischief and youthful rebelliousness. Some of the stylistic combinations are downright bizarre, like the fusion of circus-flavored melodies, grotesque narration lifted from old American black-and-white burlesque films (the ones that already had sound) and Rothery’s Celtic-tinged guitar solos. 

The decidedly dark, dystopian »This Is The 21st Century« is, atmosphere-wise especially, in sharp contrast with most of the songs on »Anoraknophobia«, which are mainly upbeat. Mr. Kelly shines again here, mixing piercing, complex electronic patterns with gloomy orchestral curtains to create an icy mood of waiting for the imminent end of the world as we know it. The socially engaged lyrics tell of the last days of modern, decadent civilization, as the moment approaches when schizoid 21st-century man finally destroys himself. You can’t shake the feeling that the Marillion guys found their inspiration for this one while listening to certain tracks produced by the legendary David Bowie, the master of this kind of icy dystopia and post-apocalyptic mood. And the experimenting with different styles and ambient shades on »Anoraknophobia« isn’t over yet, as the closing sonic adventure »If My Heart Were a Ball It Would Roll Uphill« proves: another emphatically eclectic piece that, with its complexity and odd stylistic turns, only lodges in your ears and heart after repeated listens. The star is once again Mr. H with his great singing, which manages to make even an average love lyric listenable, while the abundance of improvisation ensures plenty of art rock gourmets will get their fill.

Art pop rock-leaning »Anoraknophobia« was a modern-sounding album of the kind Marillion had wanted to make for a few years, the late nineties in particular, but the right inspiration and drive always seemed to slip away from them. Taken as a whole, this very good but not spectacular effort strikes just the right balance between commercially tempting pop moments and eclectic art rock experimenting, where the band tests the nerves of those followers who swear by Marillion mainly for their eighties hits, or who discovered them at the peak of their commercial success. It’s somewhat bizarre that »Anoraknophobia« was the first Marillion album to miss the UK charts, since, partly thanks to the production, it sounds the most commercial of all their studio efforts apart from »Holidays In Eden« (1991), and in a modern way at that, but they were obviously still too sonically eclectic for the masses. It didn’t help that the album was released for the wider UK market by Liberty, a subsidiary of the publishing giant EMI, the label Marillion had parted ways with in 1996.

Line-up

Steve Hogarth – vocals
Steve Rothery – guitar
Mark Kelly – keyboards
Pete Trewavas – bass guitar
Ian Mosley – drums

Production

Dave Meegan

Tracklist

1. Between You and Me
2. Quartz
3. Map of the World
4. When I Meet God
5. The Fruit of the Wild Rose
6. Separated Out
7. This is the 21st Century
8. If My Heart Were a Ball It Would Roll Uphill

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