The first thing I will say about Bass Communion is that this is somewhat difficult music. It is definitely not going to be everyone's particular cup o' joe — including fans of its creator's other, better-known band, the great British prog-rock outfit Porcupine Tree.
But that is probably, exactly how Steven Wilson intended it.
Even for those familiar with Wilson's work with Porcupine Tree, or his numerous other "side-projects" like the poppier-sounding Blackfield, Bass Communion is not going to be the easiest pill to swallow. In fact, the more psychedelically, or otherwise adventurously inclined among you might even want to consider a recreational pill of choice before diving in here.
That's not an endorsement for drug-enhanced listening by the way. But rather, the best way I can muster to communicate the fact that this particular Steven Wilson project may just require some attitude adjustment to be best appreciated.
Bass Communion is Steven Wilson's electronic, ambient music project, and has been described by the artist himself as something of a labor of love for him. While the music on this, and other Bass Communion releases such as Loss and Ghosts On Magnetic Tape can't really be compared to anything else out there, the best way to describe the music here would be words like hypnotic, dark, melancholic, and perhaps even disturbing on some sort of subliminal level.
When approached the proper way — there we go with that "attitude adjustment" again — it can also be a starkly beautiful experience.
Like other Bass Communion releases, Pacific Codex mainly consists of these gorgeous, haunting soundscapes that are really more about texture, than any sort of structured musical form. The closest point of musical reference would be the ambient electronica of early Tangerine Dream — though it lacks the rhythm of that particular German brand of layered sound — or a decidedly darker take on the more atmospheric seventies work of Brian Eno and Robert Fripp on albums like Music For Airports.