Diary of a Superfan: Acid Mothers Temple - an introduction

So far, I'm not doing a very good job at my Diary of a Superfan entries. I haven't done much besides review a concert and an album. And that's a shame because my relationship with the music of Oneida and Centro-Matic is way too deep for a simple album or concert review. That sounds kind of stupid, but what I'm trying to say is this: because I've listened to both of those bands so much --both live and on album-- any reaction I have to their music is inevitably going to involve comparisons to previous albums/concerts and my strong personal connection to their music.

This probably makes for a better and more informative review than one written by someone who's just a casual listener or has never listened to the band before. But I'd like to go beyond just reviewing the music. What else I would do, I'm still not exactly sure. But our relationships with music is more than just a thumbs up/thumbs down review. At least mine certainly is. And while I was somewhat late to the party with Acid Mothers Temple, they have become one of my biggest musical obsessions over the past several years.

I had heard of the band in college, but never bothered to check them out. To me, they were one of those weird experimental bands that were somehow beyond me. I had heard of them referred to as a collective, so I assumed it was a very large band. And then for some reason in 2005, I decided to finally check them out. At this time, Acid Mothers Temple were touring under the name Acid Mothers Temple and The Cosmic Inferno. All that I knew about this incarnation was that it was supposedly a harder rocking version of the band. Beyond that, I really had little idea what to expect.

So I went to my first Acid Mothers Temple show. And I was totally blown away. The band played no more than four songs total that evening, three of them lasting well beyond 20 minutes. I will probably never forget the opening of that show. The keyboard player/guitarist Higashi Hiroshi started the set by making (what I have now learned are his typical) space age sound effects with his keyboard. Lead guitarist and leader of all versions of Acid Mothers Temple, Kawabata Makoto noodled about on electric sitar. The bassist, Tabata Mitsuro made strange percussion noises with his bass guitar and joined in the free-form jam. And the drummer just sat there. Until Kawabata suddenly started playing major chords on the sitar. And then all hell broke loose.

For the next hour and a half, I was subjected to some of the loudest music I had ever heard. And at one point I even took my earplugs (actually just toilet paper) out so that I could hear more of it. It was that good. And then my ears hurt too much so I put them back in. And somehow when I stepped closer and put my head in the direct path of the lead guitarists amp, it got even louder. At the end, in the middle of a breakneck fast song, Hiroshi suddenly became disgusted with his guitar, threw it to the ground and moved over to the keyboard where he proceeded to go apeshit. Kawabata finished his bit by swinging his guitar around and hooking it on one of the speakers above. The drummer and bassist continued to play for a good couple of minutes after the other two had left. And then it was over. I had fallen in love.

Since then, I have seen Acid Mothers Temple in various forms seven times. I have bought 29 of their albums. And I have spent countless hours of my life dancing around like an idiot in my room while listening to their music turned up as loud as I dare. Just by the numbers, Acid Mothers Temple are one of the most rewarding bands around for someone like me. I love loud, long songs. No one plays longer or louder. They tour and record constantly, sometimes releasing more than 5 albums in a year. A fan of this band never runs out of music to listen to.

And then there's the music itself. Sure, there's a reliance on extended guitar freakouts, but there's also so much more there. Band leader Kawabata Makoto never ceases experimenting, and bringing new contributors to the fold. The musicianship is nearly flawless. I say nearly, because Acid Mothers Temple can be one of the most deliberately sloppy bands on the planet. No song is ever played the same way twice.

And while Acid Mothers Temple is clearly Kawabata's show (he is a member of every incarnation of the band that I know of except for one. And that one has only one album to its name), he definitely lets his supporting members shine. Tsuyama Atushi, the bassist of AMT and the Melting Paradiso UFO in addition to being a great bassist, is also a great singer (when he decides to be. His gibberish freakouts are a staple of the live act). Former singer and keyboard player Cotton Casino may have looked like a drunk burnout, but she had the voice of an angel when she was in the band. Kawabata shares the songwriting credits with his band members, and the collaborative nature of the music is always in display.

But none of this would be possible without the crazed genius of Kawabata Makoto. He usually has about 5 instruments credited to him on every album, but it's the guitar he was made for. Watching him play guitar is a revelation. He swings it around, holds it up to the air and moves his fingers all over the fretboard with almost no effort. But it never sounds like aimless noodling. Somehow he manages to hit every right note even at his fastest and most reckless. He has written several times about communicating with the cosmos with his music. To the uninitiated, this sounds like the talk of a mad man. To those of us that have heard him, it sounds like the only reasonable explanation.