Every musician has sinned. The guitarist who wouldn't stop soloing. The drummer who sped up. The bassist who would not, could not, let the song end.
This is the kind of conduct the Bass Code was written to prevent.
For centuries, the Code governed the discipline of every bassist who held the instrument - the last line of defence against exactly this kind of chaos. Then it stopped being taught. The result is what you hear in rehearsal rooms today: notes that were never requested and have not been forgiven, fretboards crossed at Olympic sprinting pace under the impression that distance covered constitutes musical content.
The Bass Code sets the doctrine down in full - 55 articles, standard procedures, and eight incident reports from the Office of the Sentinel. Each report is a formal finding against a real bassist in a real location. The rulings are final. The record does not expire.
If you have ever stood in a room and tried to make music with other people, you already know one of the bassists in these pages - and if you play something else entirely, you already suspect one of your own sins is coming next.
The tone is completely straight. The comedy is entirely institutional. The findings stand.
The perfect gift for any musician, and the ones who've had to play alongside one.