Archive for the ‘Audrey Ginestet’ Category

New_Yorker_September_11_2000-2015_02_20_13_56_46-1000x1400SOUNDTRACK: KAWABATA MAKOTO [河端一]-INUI 1 (2000).

a2061426618_16Kawabata Makoto [河端一] is the guitarist and mastermind behind Acid Mothers Temple.  The band is hugely prolific.  But he still had time to record solo albums.  Often times without any guitar.

This was Kawabata’s first solo LP, now available on bandcamp

from way back in 2000 (about 100 releases ago, in Kawabata terms). Originally released by the mighty SIWA label in a tiny, hand printed edition of 300, this has long been the most sought-after Kawabata item, pretty much impossible to track down without a wallet full of ebay slush funds. The music, as on all of Kawabata’s INUI series releases, is intensely personal and introspective, with long tracks built up of soft-focus layers of mid-fi violin, sarangi, oud, sitar, bouzouki, etc.

And that’s what this is.

The credits indicate that he plays violin, sarangi, oud, sitar, bouzouki, lyra, shou, nei, and sings.

There are three tracks.

“Shin” (11:09) is a quiet drone of him playing any or all of the instruments mentioned.  I like the middle eastern drone style paired with a kind of lead bowing improv.  The piece ends with a fifteen second moaning voice.  The voice is French film maker and musician Audrey Ginestet.

Tai (9:45) is combination of drones and plucked notes.  He sings a melody along with a bowed solo, making this song very calming.

Son (21:45) is nearly twenty minutes of unchanging drones.  It can really make you feel transcendent.  After about 16 minutes his voice comes in, echoing and distant.

This album is not for everyone, but it can certainly put you in a different head space.

[READ: August 15, 2019] “Water Child”

Nadine is a nurse.  She has moved to Brooklyn from Haiti and is living by herself.

The story opens wit her receiving a letter from her parents. It is positive and warm and asks her to call them.  Nadine wants to call but does not. For days and weeks.  But she reads the note several times a day, marveling at the lightness of the airmail paper.

Nadine ate lunch by herself.  A fellow nurse, Josette’s lunch began when Nadine’s ended and they crossed paths every day.  But their conversations were brief and functional. (more…)

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