Woodcut is Big Big Train’s first full-narrative concept album, which was inspired by an early-morning visit to a museum. As co-founder Greg Spawton and new lead vocalist Alberto Bravin tell Prog, it’s evidence of how far they’ve come since the death of David Longdon – and the album would almost certainly never have happened if they hadn’t turned into a touring band in recent years.
Big Big Train have undoubtedly made a few albums shot through with prominent themes. From 2004’s Gathering Speed, which focused on World War II stories, to 2019’s Grand Tour (European cultural journey) and 2021’s Common Ground (Covid-informed themes of unity), the band’s works could definitely be slotted into the concept part of your LP shelves – if you chose to bend the rules a touch.
But when coming up with their latest album Woodcut, founding bassist Greg Spawton and his bandmates were certain from the first spark of an idea that this would be a concept album in tooth and claw. That much became clear to them during their European tour of summer 2023, the morning after a show in Oslo.
Article continues below“Me and Alberto Bravin tend to wake up early on the tour bus, so we went out to visit the Munch,” Spawton says. “Obviously there’s his famous works like The Scream and stuff like that, but there was also an exhibition of his woodcut work. If we hadn’t happened to see that exhibition, I don’t think this album would have existed. Within a few minutes of seeing it we both thought, ‘There’s something in this.’”
The idea of presenting an album following the tale of a painstaking development of a creative work – an artwork about the artistic process, in essence – was irresistible, as was the yin and yang notion of using light and shade to make an impact.
“We were attracted to the idea of that craftsmanship because it feels real and solid,” Spawton says. “And we’re that sort of 70s band, playing all our instruments live, all pretty old-school. But we also liked the way they cut into the wood to create a negative, so when the printing happens, it creates a positive image.
“We went back to the tour bus. “Everyone was still waking up, and we were like, ‘Fucking hell, guys, we’ve got this idea – we’ve got to do this!’ Everyone was like, ‘Oh yeah, we like this idea!’ because we’ve not really done a full narrative concept album before.”
As ever with BBT, input and ideas were encouraged within that stated framework. “We were like, ‘Here’s the idea, boys and girls; send us some material, send us your songs, and we’ll try and make this work,’” says Spawton. “So then poor old Alby had the job of making something out of it, from several hours of music. He was the mastermind on this – we needed someone to lead the project and really pull the threads together. I’m too old! So Alberto was the guy for the job.”
“There’s a linear story and the music goes with it,” Bravin explains. “You have moments that come and go, reprises and callbacks, and vocal lines that are then played by guitars or vice versa. But everything had to relate to the original idea. I put everything together, starting to cut, paste, change keys and move stuff around until it made sense. I was like, ‘OK, there’s about an hour of music now – we can work with this.’”
The result is one of the band’s finest hours of music, which veers skilfully from the dramatically charged prog of The Artist through more contemplative, self-doubting passages to the Lindley-sung The Sharpest Blade, all reflecting the highs and lows, painstaking labour and frenzied creation integral to the subject matter. Meanwhile, the punchy, riff-led Warp And Weft, the florid keyboard solos of Cut And Run and the triumphant denouement of Counting Stars offer further staging posts in a captivating journey.
Collective endeavours are common with BBT, but it isn’t always the case in the prog world. Multi-instrumentalists, writer-performer-producer figures and ambitious visionaries can be control freaks. Spawton has built the band’s catalogue around his own songwriting in tandem with simpatico bandmates. All have been invited to make their mark on the BBT back catalogue, but none have established such a fruitful creative partnership with Spawton than co-writer and longtime frontman David Longdon.
So when he died suddenly in 2021, the band not only had to deal with the traumatic loss of a good friend, but had to consider if BBT had a future without him. As it turned out, their evolution from largely an album-orientated project – they didn’t play any live shows between 1997 and 2014 – to an increasingly vibrant touring act proved to be their saving grace.
“Oh God, yeah,” says Spawton with something of a wince. “I wake up in the middle of the night thinking, ‘Christ, what if we hadn’t gone with Alberto?’ I can’t see how it would have worked. Above all, he’s a really good human being; a really nice person to be on the tour bus with. He’s just a really solid chap, as well as being very talented. And the band feels different.
“Alberto has alluded to wanting to maintain the tradition of the music – it’s still Big Big Train music. But we do a lot more gigging. We spend a lot more time on a tour bus, so it’s more like an old-fashioned rock band. Before that we were a studio band that occasionally gigged. Now this is a gigging band that also makes albums.”
Bravin first came to Spawton’s attention during his seven-year spell with Italian prog institution Premiata Forneria Marconi (PFM). The difference with his role with his compatriots was that songwriting was something of a closed shop. “Forgive me for speaking for him here,” says Spawton, as Bravin nods in agreement, “but it wasn’t fulfilling him because he wasn’t contributing to the songs on their new albums. He didn’t have the role that he wanted – a more fulfilling artistic role. That’s why he took the risk of joining Big Big Train.”
Meanwhile, there have even been touches of slightly unfashionable, but evidently communally bonding lifestyle elements that have played their part. “The harmony that we have on the tour bus is amazing,” adds Spawton. “You’re living with people cheek by jowl, and we just get on like a house on fire. As soon as the whisky comes out after a gig, you know it’s a good night.”
I went through quite a tough time personally. The band became an important way of helping me see the happier elements of life
Greg Spawton
“There’s been one or two times where we’ve maybe been a little bit too rock’n’roll for our own good,” Bravin adds with a grin. “But we like to enjoy life, have fun and be relaxed on tour. There’s a real chemistry there, and a camaraderie.”
“I think I needed to feel that joy,” says Spawton. “That environment of being together with a touring band, after what happened with losing David. Life was really quite bleak for a while, and my stepdad also passed away. I went through quite a tough time personally, and the band – to my surprise, if anything – became an important way of helping me see the happier elements of life.”
Evidently the fun hasn’t been restricted to gigging either. Repeating the process of 2024’s The Likes Of Us, the band gathered in person after remote collaboration to record the songs, old-school style, at Sweetwater Studios in Fort Wayne, Indiana, during a break while touring there. “It just takes it up another level or two,” says Spawton. “We had some really good creative moments together.”
All of which has confirmed some enduring home truths. “One of the things that losing David and my stepdad in a very short period of time taught me is – terrible cliché, but it’s true – you only get the one life, and you’ve got to live it as fully as you can.”
And with Woodcut, there have been no half-measures. “For me, an album is an important statement, not a collection of songs. And what I got lucky with, working with Alberto, is that he’s exactly on the same page – with knobs on, in fact!”
The knobs, you could argue, weren’t entirely metaphorical either, given that they have “gone the whole hog,” as Spawton puts it, by commissioning Dorset-based artist Robin Mackenzie to create a woodcut print for the album artwork on a Victorian press.
So the Train rolls on at full speed. What does Spawton think his old sparring partner Dave Longdon would have made of it? “I know his atoms have spread to the universe and all that, but I kind of imagine him looking down, thinking, ‘Fucking get on with it, guys!’ You know, he was a great human being, and I think he would have wanted the band to carry on.
“For a couple of years, we actually worked on a concept album back in the David days, and it never came to fruition. So I know he would have been interested in this sort of approach. I think he’d be very proud of what we’re doing. As are we.”
Woodcut is on sale now via InsideOut.
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