Woodcut by Big Big Train

The lineup officially changes from their previous studio album, The Likes of Us (2024), with trumpeter Paul Mitchell joining as a full-time member.

Although Mitchell had already collaborated with the band live during their 2024 tour, Woodcut marks his official debut as a full member on a studio recording. Otherwise, the lineup remains the same as the previous album, consolidating the new direction led by Alberto Bravin.

This album is dedicated to David Longdon and, while not a direct homage, is intrinsically linked to his figure as a moment of transition and rebirth for the band. While their previous album, "Ingenious Devices" (2023), was explicitly dedicated to him, "Woodcut" represents the band's first complete narrative concept album, marking the full emergence of Alberto Bravin as frontman and producer.

The album addresses themes of creative sacrifice, artist obsession, and the fine line between inspiration and madness. These themes resonate with the recent history of the band, which had to mourn Longdon's untimely passing in 2021 in order to continue its journey.

The title and concept of this album pay homage to the artist's manual labor and dedication, represented by a wood carver. This theme has always been important to Gregory Spawton and reflects the band's "old-school" approach to progressive music. The album's sound harks back to the sounds of '70s prog, with that emotional power the band knows how to convey so well. It's a truly emotional and engaging album.

A few days ago, during a family gathering for a Christmas lunch postponed due to a bad flu that had struck almost everyone, my brother, who is a true carpentry enthusiast, was explaining to me with infectious enthusiasm, on a sunny balcony, the structure of a tree trunk. You know, the cross-section of a tree trunk is a true marvel, a complex structure made up of several concentric layers, each playing a fundamental role in the life of the tree.

The bark, the outermost layer, is like armor that protects the tree from the elements, temperature changes, and pests. Immediately beneath the bark is the cap, a thin layer that transports the elaborate, nutrient-rich sap from the leaves to the rest of the plant. Then comes the cambium, the growth zone of the tree, a thin layer of cells that produces new wood on the inside and new cap on the outside, allowing the trunk to grow and become larger.

The sapwood, the "young" part of the wood, usually lighter in color, is where the raw sap, composed of water and mineral salts, flows from the roots to the crown, like a kind of highway for the tree. The heartwood, the inner and oldest part of the trunk, is made up of dead, hard, and compact cells that provide the main mechanical support for the tree, much like the beams of a house. It is also the most valuable part for woodworking, perfect for creating beautiful and durable furniture and objects. At the exact center is the pith, the residue of the plant's early years, with a spongy consistency and often barely distinguishable from the surrounding heartwood, like the heart of a tree.

The growth rings are also visible in this section, corresponding to the tree's annual growth and allowing us to determine its age, like a secret diary telling the story of the plant.

And I don't know if it's just me, but listening to and reading the lyrics of this album, I found a strong connection between the concept and the anatomy of a trunk, a profound connection that serves as a metaphorical framework for the album's entire narrative. Greg Spawton has structured the album by ideally following the path from the outer bark to the artist's pith, a fascinating journey that explores the different facets of his personality and his music.

Imagine a tree, strong and majestic. Its bark, like armor, protects it from the outside world, just as the album's first songs tell us about our relationship with the city, the forest, and everything around us. And then there's the book, a symbol of nourishment, representing that magical moment when inspiration arrives, like a beneficial rain, and nourishes our creativity.

Then there's the sapwood, the living, pulsating part of the tree, where the raw sap flows. It's like the phase in which the artist is in full creative ferment, with "Albion Press" capturing precisely the energy of this moment. It's as if the colors were more vivid, the music more intense, and creation flowed as quickly as the sap towards the leaves. It's the moment when we look to the future, with enthusiasm and a desire to grow.

But not everything is always easy. There's also the heartwood, the old, hard, and lifeless wood that supports the tree. It's the context of songs where the artist digs deep, like an archaeologist, "sculpting" and "cutting" the hardest and oldest parts of himself. It's like taking a journey through his own memory, through past experiences, and finding the strength to give stability to his work. It's a place of "uneasiness," certainly, but also of great wisdom.

And then, at the center of the tree, there's the Marrow. It's the essence of the artist, the point of fragility from which everything began. It's the beating heart of the album, the place where the deepest emotions lie.

The rings of Growth, found in "Contare le stelle," are like the stages of life. Each ring is a scar, a year of life, a trauma, or a joy overcome. It's like accepting the "order of things," the cycle of the seasons, and recognizing that our lives are made up of concentric rings of experiences, each with its own value.

And finally, the album title, "Woodcut." Engraving wood, like making a print, means removing material, removing parts of oneself. It's a delicate process, requiring precision and sensitivity. Just as to create a masterpiece, the artist must "remove" to get to the essence, often in black and white (like the contrast between ink and paper), but leaving an everlasting imprint.

This album was born from a truly interesting idea: Gregory Spawton and Alberto Bravin, during their 2023 European tour, visited the Munch Museum in Oslo. There, they were struck by the woodcuts of Edvard Munch, an artist who inspired them immensely. And guess what? The album's title, "Woodcut," came about by reading that word under a work, even before there were any music or lyrics.

Woodcut, which involves removing material to create a "negative" image that can then be inked, became the central theme of the album. It represents the artist's sacrifice and the emotional "bleeding" required to create something new: digging deep to bring light out of darkness.

The duality of printmaking (positive and negative image) is also reflected in the album's structure. Many songs in the first half have a "twin" in the second, which functions as a "positive" or "negative" version of the other.

Munch, famous for his dark themes of anguish and madness, influenced the tone of the concept. The story is about "The Artist," a woodcarver inspired by a piece of wood, who creates a work so realistic that he finds himself catapulted into a parallel world, between inspiration and madness.

To pay homage to this influence, the band decided to abandon the colorful illustrations of their previous albums and chose a simple black-and-white cover, designed by engraver Robin Mackenzie, precisely to recall the power of Munch's original prints.

The Lie of the Land is a rhythmic piece, driven by Greg Spawton's pulsating bass, evoking a sense of journey and search. The title, "The Lie of the Land," suggests a deception of nature or a distorted sensory experience. The song tells the story of a protagonist trying to "get out of the city streets" to find himself, a recurring theme in Spawton's poetry: the contrast between urban chaos and English nature, evoked by Oak, Ash, and Elm. The forest is a "place of uneasiness." The song evolves from confusion to enlightenment. The "Light" among the trees represents overcoming obstacles. The "hard, heavy wood" becomes a support for finding the way home, which appears "free" and direct like the "flight of an arrow." Oak, Ash, and Elm represent the triad of British arboreal mythology: strength, wisdom, and the threshold between worlds. The Light symbolizes mental or spiritual clarity after overcoming a test.

The Sharpest Blade showcases the band's power. It's a complex track, characterized by sudden tempo changes and a grandiose interplay between Clare Lindley's violin and electric guitar, reminiscent of the precision of an engraver's cutting.
A song that explores silence, introspection, and the weight of emotional wounds, using metaphors to represent the fleeting nature of joy and the persistence of pain.

Side B opens with "Albion Press," a more direct and heavy rock track with a powerful guitar riff. The lyrics celebrate the art of printing and humanity's ability to bring worlds to life through technique and imagination. They precisely describe the physical process of letterpress printing: "Stir and spread," "Press and hold your breath," "Unravel and reveal." The Albion Press, a famous 19th-century iron printing press, transforms a two-dimensional idea into a work that seems three-dimensional and endowed with its own vitality.
The name "Albion" is the ancient poetic name for Great Britain. The song doesn't simply describe a machine; it celebrates British craftsmanship and the ability to transmit stories, visions, and landscapes through ink and paper.

"Arcadia" is a moment of pure pastoral beauty. The wind and woodwind arrangements create a dreamy tapestry reminiscent of 1970s British prog (Genesis-era "Trespass" style). The lyrics contrast an ideal world, with a room without walls and lush nature, with a harsh reality. The narrator, alone and determined, faces a storm after the light fades, exploring themes of creation, loss, and resilience.

"Second Press" is an interlude that returns to previous melodic themes but with a more sophisticated and orchestral arrangement.

"Warp and Wef" is one of the most experimental tracks, highly complex, with polyrhythms and vocal interweavings reminiscent of Gentle Giant.  An intense and psychological piece, its title recalls the art of weaving (the warp and weft of a loom) as a metaphor for a deeper process. The text describes the creative act not as a pleasure, but as an uncontrollable impulse ("I can't stop"). The artist is literally "trapped while creating," suggesting that the artwork is not something external, but something that consumes its creator. Toward the end, the work seems to take on a life of its own ("I see it move," "I hear it breathe"). This is the final paradox: the artist empties himself and "ties himself in knots" so that his creation can finally breathe independently.

"Light Without Heat" is an intense ballad where Nick D’Virgilio's rhythm section gradually gives way to a final orchestral crescendo. The lyrics explore dissociation and disappointment in the face of a perfect yet soulless reality. The protagonist finds himself in a simulated environment, devoid of emotional authenticity, unable to detach himself despite the awareness of its futility.
If on Albion Press the creation seemed like a miracle, here we see its dark side: the creation of a world that, despite being "perfect," feels cold and alienating because it lacks human warmth.

"Dreams In Black And White" is an epic piece with a dramatic tone, characterized by "noir" atmospheres and a spectacular use of dynamic contrasts to describe the protagonist's lucid dream. This is the final act of the internal conflict that culminates in the artist's creative and emotional collapse, trapped in a claustrophobic nightmare. The loss of vision, the lucid dream as a trap, and total disorientation represent the price of artistic creation.

Side B opens with "Cut and Run," the album's most energetic track, an instrumental tour de force where each band member has room for virtuosic solos and the pace is relentless.

"Hawthorn White" marks a return to the band's folk roots, with acoustic guitars and violin taking center stage, setting the mood for the conclusion with a sweet and comforting melody. This short and delicate instrumental piece features a dialogue between piano, cello, and violin, in keeping with the style of classic British prog. Musically, it echoes the theme of "Dreams in Black and White," reflecting the protagonist's fragile state of mind.

"Counting Stars" is a majestic track that culminates in a soaring final chorus and a lyrical solo by Rikard Sjöblom that literally seems to "reach for the stars." One of the most touching and meaningful songs, it represents the album's emotional highpoint, a moment of profound reflection. Musically, it stands out for its solemn, airy, and hopeful atmosphere. It begins with calm tones led by piano, violin, and acoustic guitars, slowing the rapid pace of the previous tracks thanks to Alberto Bravin's magnificent vocal performance.

In Woodcut's narrative, "Counting Stars" portrays the protagonist, the Artist, in a reflective state of mind. After facing the challenges and near-madness of artistic creation, he finds solace in nature. The lyrics evoke a childhood memory of the artist, atop a hill at dusk, watching the stars light up in the sky. This experience restores a sense of wonder for the vastness and magnificence of the world, prompting him to return to the countryside to "count the stars" one last time. The stars symbolize the hope and beauty that remain "just out of reach," but which push him to keep moving and aiming upward.

"Last Stand" closes the album with classic symphonic progressive rock, revisiting previous melodic themes in a cohesive final suite. The brass section and layered vocal harmonies create a sense of triumph and grandeur. Alberto Bravin balances vulnerability and strength, bringing the narrative to an emotional climax. The piece alternates reflective calm with imposing instrumental sections, culminating in a slowly fading orchestral finale.

The song concludes the story of the Artist, who accepts the result of his work after struggling with obsession, madness, and sacrifice. The lyrics reflect on the continuity of life and nature, comparing man to the tree that provides the wood for woodcuts. It is a message of resilience and hope: art endures when everything else fades.

Tracklist

The Tracklist of my LP version Ltd Gatefold Arcadia Forest - Green 180g 2LP + LP-booklet - Limited to 300 units

LP 1 - SIDE A
Inkwell Black
The Artist
The Lie Of The Land The Sharpest Blade
LP 1 - SIDE B
Albion Press
Arcadia
Second Press
Warp And Weft
LP 2 - SIDE A
Chimaera
Dead Point
Light Without Heat
Dreams In Black And White
LP 2 - SIDE B
Cut And Run
Hawthorn White
Counting Stars

This is the CD version
Ltd CD + Blu-ray – Mediabook - Incl. Dolby Atmos, 5.1 Surround Sound & High Resolution Stereo Mixes

Lineup and Credits
Produced by Alberto Bravin
Recorded at Sweetwater Studios, Fort Wayne, USA, in April 2025 and at Aubitt Studios, Southampton, England, in July 2025
Engineered by Jason Pects at Sweetwater and Rob Aubrey at Aubitt
Mixed by Rob Aubrey and Alberto Bravin at Aubitt
String arrangements by Clare Lindley, Brian Mullan, and Alberto Bravin
Cover from an original woodcut by Robin Mackenzie
Design and layout by Neal Moran at Lemonshed

ALBERTO BRAVIN: Lead vocals, acoustic and electric guitars, keyboards, Moog, Mellotron
NICK D'VIRGILIO: Drums, percussion, keyboards, 12-string acoustic and electric guitars, vocals
OSKAR HOLLDORFF: Grand piano, Wurlitzer and Fender Rhodes electric pianos, organ Hammond, Mellotron, synthesizers, vocals
CLARE LINDLEY: Violin, acoustic guitar, vocals
PAUL MITCHELL: Trumpet, piccolo trumpet, vocals
RIKARD SJÖBLOM: 6- and 12-string electric guitars, Hammond organ, vocals
GREGORY SPAWTON: Bass, bass pedals, 12-string acoustic guitar, Mellotron, vocals

Featuring:
BRIAN MULLAN: Cello
MADDIE WEGG: Clarinet and alto flute

Big Big Train thanks collaborators, friends, family, and fans for their support, with a special tribute to David Longdon.

Listening links

Some tracks on the band's official channel Big Big Train Band

Note: All links to the musicians' works are in the TAGS under the article title or on the "Artists" page.