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Given the album name, the artist, and the proximity of release from the first Bass Communion album, it would be easy to assume that this is more of the same from Bass Communion. Heck, there’s even a track titled “Drugged 3”, so there’s a little bit of revisiting on this album. As for looking at this, it takes a look at the music itself.
Given that Bass Communion falls under the ‘ambient’ and ‘drone’ umbrellas, what will be examined in these write-ups is the feel which these evoke in the listener. This approach probably works better for Bass Communion than simply relating what the song structure is. That’s because a lot of ambient/drone either throws structure out the window (for better or for worse) or ends up repetitive and dependent on build-ups, tension, and release.
As a side note before I begin the review proper—II has slightly different track listings depending on which release of the album is being listened to. For this review, the track-listing for the 2002/2009 edition will be used.
“Advert” + “16 Second Swarm” (11:54)
As a 59-second introduction track, “Advert” gets the job done in setting an atmosphere. A pretty desolate one at that.
Ironically, “16 Second Swarm” actually lasts for 10:56—seemingly picking up where “Advert” leaves off. The primary mood created from this one isn’t evident at first—the slow crackle of static that flute and saxophone glide over with a single tone doesn’t seem exciting at first. However, once those two instruments harmonize, there is an incredibly-soothing effect produced in the listener as the two (along with what sounds like synth pads) weave in and out of each other’s sustains. All of this produces a constant sense of build-up that’s achieved by adding one tone after another—an effect which is continued throughout the song. While this does seem like overload, Steven executes this so gradually that it feels natural despite the chaos of all these tones coming from various instruments: flute, sax, synth, violin, keyboards, and what sounds like fretless bass. Then, everything falls apart in the most beautiful way in the last couple of minutes.
Is this quite as beautiful as “Drugged” or “Drugged 2” were from the first album? Not quite. This one didn’t give me tears of joy in my eye like “Drugged” did. However, it manages to somehow feel as melancholy as Stupid Dream and as (relatively) uplifting as Lightbulb Sun simultaneously.
“Grammatic Oil” (10:11)
Tone-wise, “Grammatic Oil” begins with a sound that’s like that of a clock-tower ticking (probably some odd percussion). Then, synth comes into the picture over the top of it. At about 1:20 is the first indication that the mood of this track will not be fully pleasant, something which is reinforced by the strings at close to the two-minute mark—strings which sound half-way between normal and discordant. Shortly after this, wind-effects and something that sounds like a synth pulse overwhelms an earlier rhythmic pattern. Overall, the array of subtle changes serve to put the listener in a state of unease. Just when you think you know what’s going on, something new gets added that makes no repetition a 1:1 repeat of what came before. Almost as if Steven knows what listeners expect and seeks to subvert those expectations at every turn.
Overall, that makes “Grammatic Oil” a rather clever piece of ambient/drone music. For fans of this type of music, it shows that Steven’s able to work with the best of them in an avant-garde sense. However, “Grammatic Oil” falls under that ‘repetitive’ quibble I mentioned from earlier. I do suppose that—like most Bass Communion music—this can be some good background music.
“Drugged 3” (17:00)
The question to be asked is whether or not “Drugged 3” is one “Drugged” too many. While not as long as “Drugged 2,” this does run longer than “Drugged” did.
The moment “Drugged 3” starts, we’re greeted to what sounds like an odd, steel-like stringed instrument. All I know is that the tone from it is frigid. Probably because I recognize the instrument from Porcupine Tree’s “Lips of Ashes.” But before long, the familiar keyboard pattern from “Drugged” and “Drugged 2” starts to show up in the distance before becoming increasingly prominent. The sound of this steel-like instrument going against it sounds desolate yet hopeful—almost as if a lucid experience comes just before the keyboard pattern takes over. From there, “Drugged 3” is classic “Drugged,” but that intro makes listeners think that there will be a few different touches made this time about. Apart from that, “Drugged 3” has a feeling of desolation that’s not as pronounced in “Drugged” and “Drugged 2,” which is partly attributable to the presence of the mysterious steel-like instrument. Partly attributable to sections like one later on where instruments drop out and become isolated—allowing you to hear them in ways you couldn’t in “Drugged” or “Drugged 2.”
The added touches make “Drugged 3” fresher to listen to than “Drugged 2.” However, this doesn’t quite have the ‘oomph’ that “Drugged” did upon first hearing it. That being said, “Drugged 3” has a slightly-different feel with some of the instrumentation and had I listened to “Drugged 3” first, this would probably be the best of the “Drugged” songs. While “Drugged” was one of the few things that made me cry tears of joy, “Drugged 3” comes across as more haunting than either “Drugged” or “Drugged 2” did. So it’s really a matter of preference. I’d say “Drugged” and “Drugged 3” are about on par with each other, but for different reasons.
“Dwarf Artillery” (7:14)
In terms of sound, “Dwarf Artillery” serves to take the listener off-guard after “Drugged 3.” For instance, the percussion loops in the opening minute sound as machine-like as a conveyor belt. That’s a detail that seems important in establishing tone—this one is probably going to unsettle listeners. These faint synths that slowly build in the background are always subordinate to that drum pattern—one that seems to embody the title. Intermittently, a pinging song (like a checkout scanner) is played in the background.
The thing that most unsettles a listener is how cold and lifeless it is. Yes, “Drugged 3” was certainly cold and desolate, but there was a sense of something clinging onto life. “Dwarf Artillery” sounds like someone has given up on that struggle. In fact, the repetition only reinforces the machine-like nature of the piece.
“Wide Open Killingfeld” (13:01)
There is a fun fact in that “Wide Open Killingfeld” is the only track on II which is not solely credited to Steven Wilson, but to Steven and Theo Travis.
As to what “Wide Open Killingfeld” will evoke in a listener, the beginning sounds of waves crashing on the beach while Theo tries to play his woodwinds against it can be read as either hopelessness or some semblance of hope. Given the title, I’m not sure what to expect. Also, there seems like Theo’s woodwinds are multi-tracked—with one of them sounding like he’s intentionally playing badly. That’s a detail which catches a listener off-guard. All the while, this whole thing sounds hauntingly sublime. In fact, it’s almost as if the intentionally bad playing tracks from Theo evoke the sounds of seagulls squawking.
Once the sound of the waves die down, the intentionally-bad tracks from Theo cease. Then, this piece stops becoming unnerving and becomes downright beautiful. If the image of a “Wide Open Killingfeld” is that of someone floating adrift at sea, then Theo’s woodwinds provide an atmosphere that almost allows you to picture that. Especially the eeriness of knowing that this someone will likely die—a detail supported by the minor keys of the woodwinds and by the presence of static in the mix.
Prior to “Wide Open Killingfeld,” the Bass Communion tracks had either been beautiful, unsettling, or sad. What “Wide Open Killingfeld” manages to do—in a fashion that makes it sound simpler than it is—is combine all three aspects.
In terms of a closing track, “A Grapefruit in the World of Park” turns in an atmosphere that’s as heavenly as the one in “Wide Open Killingfeld” was haunting. The in-and-out undulating keyboard patterns of the first few minutes form the pulse which makes up the piece. And while that pulse doesn’t change much aside from build-up in volume, that repetition does make the soothing experience function as good background music.
Final Thoughts:
The second time around for Bass Communion is—at the very least—on-par with the first album. In fact, this might actually be stronger than the first album. While there’s nothing on here like “Orphan Coal” (where I grew so bored that I skipped it mid-way), the second album’s compositions—even if we discount “Drugged 3”—are stronger than those on the first album. There’s highlights like “16 Second Swarm,” “Drugged 3,” and “Wide Open Killingfeld” on here—all of which have bits which cut deeper than anything on the first album (except “Drugged”). Yes, these tracks can go on longer than necessary, but I’ve accepted that that’s ambient in a nutshell and also part of the reason why it makes for good background music.
For example, it made this review easy to write. In fact, Bass Communion provides a sigh of relief every time I go at it. Because the Porcupine Tree album reviews—while rewarding to write—are exhausting. In fact, when I told Katie (that pal of mine can't seem to escape these reviews) about me getting a head-start on some of the later PT albums, she said that’s something I may have to do to keep my sanity. Which is probably true. But if I didn’t have the releases by Bass Communion, Incredible Expanding Mindfuck, No-Man, and (eventually) Blackfield to act as a buffer, then I probably already would’ve lost my marbles writing these.
That long tangent serves to say that I like the Bass Communion project for two reasons. One, it makes my task here easier than it does with Porcupine Tree. Two, this is some pretty alright ambient music.
The Next Ten:
* Porcupine Tree - "Lightbulb Sun" (May 22, 2000)
* Bass Communion - "III" (March 2001)
* No-Man - "Returning Jesus" (March 27, 2001)
* Incredible Expanding Mindfuck - "Arcadia Son" (May 2001)
* Incredible Expanding Mindfuck - "IEM Have Come For Your Children" (September 2001)
* Porcupine Tree - "In Absentia" (September 24, 2002)
* No-Man - "Together We're Stranger" (September 2, 2003)
* Blackfield - "Blackfield" (January 2004)
* Bass Communion - "Ghosts on Magnetic Tape" (February 2004)
* Porcupine Tree - "Deadwing" (March 28, 2005)