The Pineapple Thief - Far and Wide

For those who know me well enough, they are aware I have a complicated relationship with the term “progressive rock.” I love a lot of the music that lives under that enormous umbrella, but let’s face it: prog has occasionally earned its reputation for disappearing so far up its own musical arse that somebody needs to send in a search party. There are times when listening to a progressive-rock album can feel less like enjoying music and more like taking a pointless noodling entrance exam. Wow somebody just changed time signatures four times while playing a guitar solo over a keyboard solo while the drummer apparently grew another arm…good on ya mate, I’m impressed, but fuck I’m also exhausted. The Pineapple Thief have never struck me as particularly interested in playing that game, and after spending time with “Far and Wide”, their sixteenth studio album, I’m convinced that’s one of the reasons this band continues to be so damn interesting. Far And Wide arrived in October 2026 with nine songs spanning just under 48 minutes, and there is an irony in the fact that an album concerned with the increasingly complicated world around us doesn’t make the music itself unnecessarily complicated. Bruce Soord, Gavin Harrison, Jon Sykes and Steve Kitch certainly possess the chops to turn this thing into an instrumental Olympics if they wanted to. Instead, they continually make choices that serve the songs, and that distinction becomes increasingly important as the record unfolds. The musicianship is exceptional, but this record rarely stops what it’s doing to point at itself and make sure you noticed. In a genre where technical ability can occasionally become the entire reason for existence, there’s something refreshing about four extremely accomplished musicians apparently agreeing that nobody needs to see their résumé while they’re listening to the record. That becomes apparent almost immediately with “New World Order.” Based purely on the title, I half expected The Pineapple Thief to come charging through the speakers ready to overthrow the government before lunch. That’s not what happens. The uneasiness is much more subtle and, because of that, considerably more effective. The Singer Bruce Soord isn’t barking instructions from a soapbox; he sounds like somebody trying to process what the hell is happening around him. There is tension without hysteria and anxiety without melodrama, and that establishes the emotional vocabulary for much of what follows. It is particularly noticeable on “Still Living.” There are no oversized riffs trying to force an emotional response here. Instead, it is the softer tones that gradually settle in and start to work their way under your skin. That doesn’t mean the album lacks heavier moments. The opening of “God Knows” arrives with the force of distant thunder before the song moves into calmer territory “Through The Noise” takes things down another notch and ranks among the album’s quieter moments. This atmospheric track puts Soord’s expressive voice front and centre, allowing the song to unfold at its own pace. Far And Wide is a musical kaleidoscope where vision, creativity, and musicianship come together. Across its nine tracks, The Pineapple Thief invite you to peel off the layers at your own pace and discover what lies underneath and there is usually another detail waiting to be found. This isn’t an album screaming that the world is falling apart, just looking around quietly and wondering whether everybody else can see the cracks too. It’s technically sophisticated without turning sophistication into a personality. It’s dark without wallowing in darkness, political without becoming a political speech, and introspective without disappearing completely into itself. Most importantly, it respects the listener enough to leave some blanks unfilled. For me, Far and Wide is an exceptional because Gavin Harrison can do things behind a drum kit that would probably cause me to require medical attention. I’m saying it because the four musicians involved understand that knowing what not to play can sometimes be more powerful than showing us everything they can. The album rewards patience, repeated listening and, increasingly rare in 2026, the willingness to spend 48 uninterrupted minutes actually paying attention to something. Regards Jim