SOUNDTRACK: KAWABATA MAKOTO [河端一]–Lost Milky Way in The Metaphysical Space (2013).
Recently, Kawabata Makoto [河端一], mastermind behind Acid Mothers Temple, revealed a new bandcamp site for some newer solo recordings.
This album features his voice and his glissando guitar. It has two songs.
“Old Letters From Andromeda” (21:04) sounds like metallic outer space filled with slowly moving metallic whale sounds. At 6 minutes a lovely acoustic guitar melody comes in and there’s gently crooned ahhhs as well. Around 12 minutes a lead solo lays over the top. It’s all quite lovely.
“Lost Milky Way” (18:36) features squeaking, squealing feedback behind a lovely acoustic guitar melody. Pretty much the entire song is made up of this delicate acoustic guitar pattern. The backing soaring sounds change and modify throughout. Sometimes, it is tinny. Sometimes trippy. Sometimes menacing. –
This release is quite fetching.
[READ: June 9, 2020] “You Miss It When It’s Gone”
This issue of the New Yorker has four one page essays called “Close Encounters.” Since I like all of the authors, I was looking forward to reading them all.
This essay is about the current Coronavirus crisis and how it has impacted socializing. Not by thinking about the now but by remembering the then.
Washington mentions various ways that customers at gay bars get close to each other. Often it is simply very crowded, with everyone being “a blob of gas and air.” But there are also details.
Playing Jenga with a friend and others helping to pick up the fallen blocks–hands touching and brushing.
Performers on stage encouraging patrons to come up on stage–touching, inserting money.
Welcoming a man who had just come out into the community with kisses on the cheeks from everyone in the place.
Reaching a point in the night when people start disrobing–loosening ties, opening buttons, tying hoodies around waists.
In the face of tragedy–pressing hands to hands, to backs, to necks.
Laughing at who can remember what until you are unable to breathe, leaning on one another’s shoulders.
Demonstrating dance moves.
Bringing a straight friend who “noted the physical proximity of the space. ‘Everyone stands so fucking close,’ he said. Just then, a man slipped between us, cupping our elbows, not even looking at us.”
How does a space that is largely free from threats evolve hen that space is now a threat.
Will these places survive?
In a powerful conclusion he says, “Some of us waited a long time for these spaces. Some might not mind waiting a bit longer. Some of us don’t have time to wait.”
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