 |
|
Kawabata Makoto "I'm Here Still Now (Live at La Chapelle)"
Ochre
When talking about the music of Kawabata Makoto or his band AcidMothers Temple, it's difficult to avoid the issue of quality control.Because there will always be someone anxious to publish every sonicutterence that Makoto commits to tape, and because Makoto appears toindulge anyone who asks him for an album, the ratio of albums to fullythought-out ideas is weighted heavily towards the former. "I'm HereStill Now" is another unnecessary addition to his inexplicably growingcatalog. It is a mediocre, nearly bootleg-quality quality audiencerecording of an improvised solo guitar and sarangi concert he gave inToulouse in 2002. As an improviser, Makoto can be great in a rockcontext; when he plays in Acid Mothers Temple or with improv/rock bandsMusica Transonic or Mainliner, he can wail like hell. But on thisrecording he seems confused, even bored. He begins with the tentativedrone of feedback through a delay effect. If you've ever been around aguitarist who plays with a rack delay for the first time, you've heardthese sounds before. After ten minutes of noodling without arrivinganywhere, he switches to a bowed sarangi through tons of reverb. I getthe feeling that reverb here is used as a cheap way to imply gravity,to cover up the uncompelling music with an emotionally-chargedtechnological shorthand. He attempts a few directions here, but doesnot commit to any of them. Unsurprisingly, he finishes by turning hisdigital delay effects back on and doing the first trick again, only fora longer amount of time. It succeeds in becoming a drone only bydefinition, though I get the feeling that Makoto was trying for sometranscendental bliss such that Phil Niblock and Keiji Haino achieve.What could it mean that, when listening to "I'm Here Still Now", I hearthe musician's effects more than I hear the music he's making? And whydid some editor not remove the audible digital clip at the 20-minutemark, the sound of audience members coughing and shifting in thierseats, or of glasses clinking? Perhaps there is such a rush to releasemore Makoto product that the merit of each individual album is notfully considered. -
When talking about the music of Kawabata Makoto or his band AcidMothers Temple, it's difficult to avoid the issue of quality control.Because there will always be someone anxious to publish every sonicutterence that Makoto commits to tape, and because Makoto appears toindulge anyone who asks him for an album, the ratio of albums to fullythought-out ideas is weighted heavily towards the former. "I'm HereStill Now" is another unnecessary addition to his inexplicably growingcatalog. It is a mediocre, nearly bootleg-quality quality audiencerecording of an improvised solo guitar and sarangi concert he gave inToulouse in 2002. As an improviser, Makoto can be great in a rockcontext; when he plays in Acid Mothers Temple or with improv/rock bandsMusica Transonic or Mainliner, he can wail like hell. But on thisrecording he seems confused, even bored. He begins with the tentativedrone of feedback through a delay effect. If you've ever been around aguitarist who plays with a rack delay for the first time, you've heardthese sounds before. After ten minutes of noodling without arrivinganywhere, he switches to a bowed sarangi through tons of reverb. I getthe feeling that reverb here is used as a cheap way to imply gravity,to cover up the uncompelling music with an emotionally-chargedtechnological shorthand. He attempts a few directions here, but doesnot commit to any of them. Unsurprisingly, he finishes by turning hisdigital delay effects back on and doing the first trick again, only fora longer amount of time. It succeeds in becoming a drone only bydefinition, though I get the feeling that Makoto was trying for sometranscendental bliss such that Phil Niblock and Keiji Haino achieve.What could it mean that, when listening to "I'm Here Still Now", I hearthe musician's effects more than I hear the music he's making? And whydid some editor not remove the audible digital clip at the 20-minutemark, the sound of audience members coughing and shifting in thierseats, or of glasses clinking? Perhaps there is such a rush to releasemore Makoto product that the merit of each individual album is notfully considered. -
