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Even the thought of a two-track, solo guitar release from this AcidMothers Temple founder may have more than a few people reaching for the"wank" button; however, this disc shows a side of Kawabata that usuallyisn't lucky enough to escape the sludge and heavy syrup psych hisgroup's been churning out since the mid-90's. Here are two 30+ minuteimprovs, one acoustic and one electric, both packed with enough reverband delay to make Kawabata's bandmates proud, but both also miles awayfrom the elastic freakouts and deliberate bombast that characterizeAMT. Created just after a trip to Sardinia, where Kawabata claims tohave undergone a spiritual awakening, these pieces are exactly the kindof weightless, shimmering psychedelia that I wish he'd startintegrating within the AMT repertoire. They immediately suggest thosemoments of rural bliss, of remote escape, water and sky, attempted byso many acid-led seekers but realized only by a happy, unsuspectingfew. The first begins in the guitarist's room where simple noteclusters fall into walls of their own reverb and thin blankets of amphum, as if shaken from larger projections of themselves. From here theacoustic begins to climb slow, billowing figures, cyclical and frail,recalling the quieter sides of the already quiet Richard Youngs, JimO'Rourke, and even late-period Fahey whose own love affair with thereverb box seems almost conservative by comparison. Kawabata divideshis single guitar's sound into three separate systems, binding spindlythree-note fragments to columns of their own piling, delayed resonance,rising as if the ruins of some ancient holy space left to loss andvegetation. By the end of this first track, the guitarist seems contentto let even these magical images go, whipping a particularlymelancholic chord progression into a disintegrating ascent, its layersof playback, multiple reverb, and delay assembling a massive shimmeringwaveform, light as breath and coming on without the exhaustion thataccompanies so many AMT climaxes. Rather, Kawabata creates anopen-ended devotional, a piece that truly feels rooted in moments oftranscendence but whose subtlety of flow and improvised constructionkeep it from the force-feeding often associated with his work. For thedisc's title track, he essentially extends the peaking drone from thefirst acoustic piece, this time with an electric guitar and a similararsenal of simple delay and reverb effects. The shift to electricallows for a shimmering structure even more crystalline andotherworldly, mounted by piles of clear feedback that lead ahead-cleaning 45 min. blast along horizons, a droning journey thatbottoms out at the edge of some ancient sun-bleached lake, infinitelycalm. Those looking for proof that Kawabata is capable of curbing thedrug-damaged big riffage for at least a few hours, or those curiousabout how this tireless electric warrior might approach an acousticguitar need look no further than
O Si Amos,where even past prejudices bend to the guitarist's reverent approachand the new potential for spiritual therapy latent in his work.
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