Pitchfork

The arrival of new material from Kawabata Makoto and Acid Mothers Temple has long seemed to be a bi-monthly event, and so far the early quarter of 2006 has proven no exception. Still on temporary hiatus from the Melting Paradiso U.F.O. group and name, both of these recent AMT extracurricular releases expand upon the Japanese psych-collective's previously charted navigations. Neither album, however, is quite able to fully deliver upon its initial tantalizing premise, instead simply becoming two more enjoyable but ultimately inessential additions to the already unwieldy AMT catalog.

It should presumably be no bombshell to suggest that a new Acid Mothers Temple album title might be something of a non sequitur. But with its King Crimson/Black Sabbath mash-up artwork and title, one might expect Starless and Bible Black Sabbath to be the full-scale prog-metal spectacular that AMT have been hinting at for years. This line-up of the Cosmic Inferno-- featuring the powerhouse rhythm section of ex-Zeni Geva bassist Tabata Mitsuru and dual drummers Shimura Koji and Okano Futoshi-- has the firepower to deliver such an extravaganza. Yet although there are accents of Sabbath lurking in the dank corners of the album's two extended tracks, Kawabata can't resist setting his controls for the furthest reaches of Ursa Minor, returning to the familiar acid rock regions encountered on 2002's Electric Heavyland.

As with many of AMT's recent works, Starless and Bible Black Sabbath is dominated by a single epic-length track. Here, on the 30+ minute title track, the Cosmic Inferno abandon the Gong-inspired stoner motorik of last year's IAO Chant in favor of a lumbering, grungy riff that sounds frustratingly spindly, and too lacking in bottom end to truly conjure Sabbath. At any rate, there's certainly little of Tony Iommi's foursquare influence audible in Makoto's continual soloing, as he spends nearly the entire length of the track furiously exploring his guitar's scorching upper limits. Though his virtuosity can be jawdropping in smaller doses, here his strenuous repetitions will likely prove a serious test for the sober listener's patience, as will Higashi Hiroshi's increasingly intrusive sci-fi keyboard effects. The spirited thrash of the following "Woman From a Hell" helps restore some visceral momentum, but does too little to entirely rescue Starless and Bible Black Sabbath from the province of missed opportunity.

More successful, and considerably more chaotic, is We Are Acid Mothers Afrirampo, recorded with the assistance of crazed female avant-garage duo Afrirampo. The hot-wired twosome of Oni and Pika have made cameos on previous Acid Mothers Temple records, and Makoto issued Afrirampo's first album on AMT's own label, but this is the first attempt at a full-length collaboration between the two groups. Using a damaged collection of percussion, toys, recorders and ecstatic vocals, Afrirampo inject these proceedings with their own distinctive brand of deranged garage rock and Fluxus-tinted bubblegum, while Makoto and crew work graciously to keep up.

The heavy-psych of the opening title track soon gives way to a prolonged breakdown of childlike vocal gibbering, before the guitars of Makoto and Oni again combine for some mutual post-No Wave jamming. "The Exorcist of Love" initially sounds like one of Acid Mothers Temple's pastoral folk interludes, but soon scurries away into loopy Joe Meek tape effects and slow-building electric crescendos. And "The Man From the Magic Mountain" combines all these various subjects to an extremely disorienting effect, as space-age electronics rub anxiously against plumes of violin and Afrirampo's savage human wails. Recalling everything from the Shaggs to early Red Krayola, the album yields most of its feral charms upon one or two careful listens, but does suitably translate what must have been an absolutely insane couple of hours in the recording studio. The scariest thought of all is that it sounds like Acid Mothers Temple and Afrirampo, if they so chose, could conceivably get together and record an album just like this every week. So if you plan to keep up, you had better start clearing your shelf space now.