Makoto Kawabata and Richard Youngs
Makoto Kawabata and Richard Youngs
[VHF; 2001]
Rating: 7.9
Acid Mothers Temple is the perfect band for geeky record collector types: a
semi-mythic history, a genuine Guitar God for a leader, and most important of
all, a seemingly endless supply of side projects and related bands to fret over.
Over the past year or so, a flood of releases from these "Japanese psychedelic
speed freaks" has been unleashed to quench the thirst of rabid completists--
live albums, reissues, vinyl-only releases, etc.-- it can all be a bit daunting
for the uninitiated. It's the kind of thing that kept me away from the Fall for
so long, and to my ultimate regret once I finally took the plunge into their vast
and intimidating discography.
On this disc, Makoto Kawabata, the leader of Acid Mothers Temple, collaborates
with Richard Youngs, a Scottish songwriter, sonic experimenter, sometimes
librarian, and vegetarian cooking columnist probably best known for his musical
partnerships with Simon Wickham-Smith, which often result in Dead C-ish noise
sculptures. But he's also known to take a much more hermetic stance, composing
such minimalist statements as "Sapphie" and "Advent," the latter of which was
recorded with only guitar and kazoo accompaniment.
On paper, this Kawabata/Youngs pairing has all the making of a all-out aural
assault. The easiest path they could have taken would have been for Youngs to
record some ear-splitting, distorted garble and have it shipped to Kawabata who
would superimpose an afternoon's worth of blistering guitar solos over it. And
even though this record was a long-distance affair, Kawabata and Youngs did the
right thing: they decided to listen to one another and shoot for subtlety over
brute force.
Youngs typically lays the foundation on these compositions, adopting one of his
more meditative moods. Building upon autoharp, organ, or distantly droning tape
sounds which constantly shift and realign, Kawabata fingerpicks his way back to
Youngs' home turf, often recalling such British folkies as Bert Jansch or John
Martyn. He slowly dwells upon an inner theme, never high-jacking the songs with
his guitar for his own display. Youngs adds vocals on two of the five tracks,
sometimes sounding oddly like Robert Pollard, other times like a more embittered
Roger Waters.
None of the tracks are titled; they're differentiated only by numbers and bars
of different colors and lengths. The first track is the most traditionally
song-oriented piece: a far off autoharp underpins Kawabata's bright, rollicking
flat-picked steel-stringed acoustic work as Youngs sings about how, "There's so
much beauty now," in a heartbreakingly honest voice that can't be denied. The
least accessible track is the second, which takes a dense swirl of autoharp and
guitar notes and slowly submerges them in an organ drone that rises over the
course of 12 minutes.
But, all told, this is far from the difficult music you might expect from these
two; my attention never wavered over its 42-minute running time. Admittedly, it
would be a stretch to call this release essential, but it would be sad if music
this good was confined to the collections of Acid Mothers Temple completists.
It's much more suited to open-minded folk aficionados or even fans of electronic
ambient and trance.
-Jason Nickey, November 7th, 2001