The Pineapple Thief release Your Wilderness is a slow hum of sad brooding that doesn’t quite let up in its broody nature through the duration of its progressive rock output. The feeling weighs thoughtfully in each of the album’s eight tracks, with some 40 minutes in length sounding longer than it really ought to. Yet the soaring heights of each composition are adventurous and provocative, illustrating a very distinct moment lost out somewhere and attempting to move forward.

“Don’t be afraid to miss me” goes the opening mantra of “In Exile” as electric guitars drive forward with the piano rock orchestral balladry that gets swallowed by echoing crash drums. Melodic laments over the characteristics of exile coupled with endearing reprimands of fear build up an ongoing tension that The Pineapple Thief seems fully intent to brand from the very start. Simple acoustic guitar strums introduce a man lost in “No Man’s Land” while pining away for another far off in another place, in what you might suspect would be a poignant acoustic moment. Then over a crooning of hums an instrumental drum solo breaks through to an extended ending that ends as quickly as it began – cutting off soon as you might hope it was getting started.

“Tear You Up” crashes through the gates in frenetic drumming and driving electric guitar crunches before rambling off on being lost in some open sea, in some soft rock balladry that starts to sound a bit sad. The Pineapple Thief is a bit melancholy out in Your Wilderness, some four minutes at a time, though here the lot sounds especially urgent in an extended emotional build up. With only eight tracks each piece feels deliberately cast in a thematic segue from one to the next, “That Shore,” illustrating a rope through that probably ended up being rather pointless. “But you know I had no choice, you know. Some of us are lost.” The character in question is downright sad and following chronologically the sadness of the journey starts to weigh in more heavily.

Not beset in singular sadness, “Take Your Shot” is aimed with a finger pointing out the blame in the urging to make a move, almost as if to finish the job of the damage done. For such a continual piece of hate mail the rockier edges of progressive rock here sounds almost hopeful, almost as if elated to be devoid of the responsibility of dealing with the problem any further. The acoustic croons of “Fend for Yourself” sound tired out by this point if it weren’t for background chorale elements and melodic piano chords carrying the moment forward – wait, is that a clarinet solo? There is a mid-song clarinet solo, a surprising musical element but that could be just another piece of the progressive nature that The Pineapple Thief is trying to put out this time.

Then “The Final Thing on My Mind” appears: a 10 minute epic near end closing moment buried beneath a slow flurry of drums, bridging to guitar harmonics and violins and choir hums. The droning on of wrongness in the cold relational entanglement feels like one very long verse that rambles on and never quite resolves itself… which seems to represent the feeling of the record. Deeply melodic acoustic strums make set the tone for the closing track of “Where We Stood” before further guitars and piano keys gather the tension further. With lyrics fading out that, “I don’t remember if we stood,” the band lost out in the wilderness feel truly stranded. There is not resolution being lost out there if you can’t even remember what happened in the first place.

Your Wilderness is a sad pill to swallow, though that may have been what band founder and producer Bruce Soord had in mind. With a consistent output since 1999, this being their eleventh album, the British rockers know pretty well what they’re doing. Plus with features from Gavin Harrison to John Helliwell to Geoffrey Richardson on this record then it’s hard not to get excited along with them, even if a little lost somewhere.