Buried in the world’s record shops, personal collections and web troves, there are Steven Wilson recordings that no one knows are his. Musical curios, mostly electronic, all released under different names without the expectations that come with being a known artist. Who knows what they sound like, or where they are? There is something of that free spirit in his latest solo album The Harmony Codex, a 65-minute, electro-organic opus that’s maverick in scope and enormous in scale. The most complete, immersive representation of his artistic palate to date.
Wilson has never denied his eclectic influences, but there was always a limit on how much he revealed per album. We’ve had post-punk (Insurgentes), pastoral jazzy sounds (Grace For Drowning), a love letter to prog (The Raven That Refused To Sing (And Other Stories)), a stirring concept (Hand. Cannot. Erase), artpop (To The Bone) and electronica (The Future Bites). Then 2020 happened, and the parameters were all but erased.
It would be wrong to suggest that The Harmony Codex wasn’t a product of lockdown. The ghosts of the pandemic are all over its introspection, otherworldly textures and remote, ensemble approach. Stuck at home with thoughts of memory, mortality and the modern age, a contemplative Wilson found himself free to make exactly the record he wanted, with collaborators from across the world just an email away.
In one sense, it’s kind of all over the place. The credit list is gigantic, and varies from track to track. There are artificial and organic strains, samples and guitar solos. Three songs are about 10 minutes long, while others clock in around four. By turns you’ll hear dark, cavernous drum machines (atmospheric opener Inclination), cascades of Americana (What Life Brings) and dreamy synth and spoken-word layers (e.g. the title track, featuring the voice of Wilson’s wife). It’s a trip, but it works.