“Routine” is perhaps the emotional apex of Steven Wilson’s concept album Hand. Cannot. Erase., released in 2015. It is a devastating exploration of grief, denial, and the numbing repetition of everyday life in the wake of unspeakable loss. Musically intricate and thematically harrowing, the song showcases Wilson’s mastery of narrative songwriting, blending progressive rock sensibilities with orchestral flourishes, electronic textures, and an operatic sense of drama.
The story behind Hand. Cannot. Erase. is inspired by the real-life case of Joyce Carol Vincent, a woman who died in her London apartment and remained undiscovered for over two years. In this context, “Routine” takes on the voice of a mother who has lost her children, clinging to daily rituals - laundry, cleaning, cooking - as a way to avoid confronting the void left behind. It is, in essence, a song about psychological survival through emotional repression.
Wilson’s voice carries the weary detachment of someone going through the motions, but it is Ninet Tayeb’s performance that truly electrifies the piece. When her vocals finally enter (wordless at first, later erupting into a crescendo of anguish) they pierce through the quiet resignation like a scream buried beneath silence. Her presence transforms the song from somber to shattering.
Musically, “Routine” builds slowly and methodically. It begins with a delicate piano and subtle electronics, unfolding like a quiet day in a tidy house. The arrangement gradually layers strings, choral elements, and textured guitar lines, culminating in a climax that feels as operatic as it is cathartic. Wilson is unafraid of space and silence, using them to devastating effect; the pacing is deliberate, mimicking the numbing march of routine itself.
Lyrically, the song is stark and minimal, each line weighted with meaning. “Keep cleaning, keep ironing / Cooking their meals on the stainless steel hob” - these mundane details are repeated like mantras, revealing a woman suspended in time, unable to process the magnitude of her loss. It’s one of the most haunting depictions of denial and compartmentalization in modern music.
“Routine” is not an easy listen, but it is an unforgettable one. It demands emotional engagement from the listener, offering no cheap resolution or comforting platitudes. Yet within its sorrow, there’s extraordinary beauty - both in the composition and the humanity it portrays.
In the broader context of Hand. Cannot. Erase., the song serves as a turning point, where the mask of normalcy cracks and reveals the raw wound beneath. It’s one of Steven Wilson’s finest achievements: a progressive rock aria that moves with the intimacy of chamber music and hits with the weight of a psychological tragedy.
The story behind Hand. Cannot. Erase. is inspired by the real-life case of Joyce Carol Vincent, a woman who died in her London apartment and remained undiscovered for over two years. In this context, “Routine” takes on the voice of a mother who has lost her children, clinging to daily rituals - laundry, cleaning, cooking - as a way to avoid confronting the void left behind. It is, in essence, a song about psychological survival through emotional repression.
Wilson’s voice carries the weary detachment of someone going through the motions, but it is Ninet Tayeb’s performance that truly electrifies the piece. When her vocals finally enter (wordless at first, later erupting into a crescendo of anguish) they pierce through the quiet resignation like a scream buried beneath silence. Her presence transforms the song from somber to shattering.
Musically, “Routine” builds slowly and methodically. It begins with a delicate piano and subtle electronics, unfolding like a quiet day in a tidy house. The arrangement gradually layers strings, choral elements, and textured guitar lines, culminating in a climax that feels as operatic as it is cathartic. Wilson is unafraid of space and silence, using them to devastating effect; the pacing is deliberate, mimicking the numbing march of routine itself.
Lyrically, the song is stark and minimal, each line weighted with meaning. “Keep cleaning, keep ironing / Cooking their meals on the stainless steel hob” - these mundane details are repeated like mantras, revealing a woman suspended in time, unable to process the magnitude of her loss. It’s one of the most haunting depictions of denial and compartmentalization in modern music.
“Routine” is not an easy listen, but it is an unforgettable one. It demands emotional engagement from the listener, offering no cheap resolution or comforting platitudes. Yet within its sorrow, there’s extraordinary beauty - both in the composition and the humanity it portrays.
In the broader context of Hand. Cannot. Erase., the song serves as a turning point, where the mask of normalcy cracks and reveals the raw wound beneath. It’s one of Steven Wilson’s finest achievements: a progressive rock aria that moves with the intimacy of chamber music and hits with the weight of a psychological tragedy.