Julian Cope presents Head Heritage

Kawabata Makoto - I'm In Your Innermost

Kawabata Makoto
I'm In Your Innermost


Released 2002 on Ochre
Reviewed by alKmyst, 06/05/2003ce


1. I'm In Your Inner Most part 1
2. I'm In Your Inner Most part 2
3. Osculation (remix version - bonus track)

Kawabata Makoto : electric organ, electric harpsichord, violin, tambura, percussion, electronics and electric guitar on track.3
Audrey Ginestet : voice

I would like to tell you the true story of how Kawabata Makoto came to make this magickal album. The dawn was gathering in the east when a being of radiant light visited Kawabata Makoto and in a voice whose beauty would break your heart told him that she wished take him to the place where all visions are made. Kawabata readily agreed, being something of a psychenaut, and the silvered being of gold gathered him into her arms and flew off into the sky.

Up and up they soared, the hills and houses becoming as specks beneath them. Up and up through the stratosphere, Japan a distant dot below. Onward and outward, the Urth a tiny glowing pearl receding behind them. Out and out past the ponderous planets, beyond the orbit of frozen, secretive Pluto. Further and further, the Sun dwindling to become merely a jewel amongst many jewels.

And then rather strange things started to happen. It all got a bit like the last twenty minutes or so of Stanley Kubrick's 2001. Strangely 1970s patterns of glowing light hurtled by, a vortex of psychedelia swallowing them. Almost like the Time Tunnel, but more classy. The many coloured whirlpool took them.

When Kawabata looks back now on what happened immediately after that it all gets a bit hazy and hard to remember. A coloured darkness, inky black but at the same time of every hue the rainbow holds and then some more. When he came around he was in a strange room at the top of a tower that was both gothic and science fiction in style, made largely of diamond. The angelic being which had guided him there was nowhere to be seen.

Yet he was not alone. Through the dimly-lit, and rather smoky, atmosphere he could discern a hunched figure, hooded and huddled over something. Looking closer he saw that this figure was studiously scrutinising a dusty old tome filled with obscure, scratchy heiroglyphs. A complex chemical apparatus was set up on the bench, also, a multitude of strangely shaped flasks and crucibles connected with a tangled chaos of glass tubing.

Kawabata drew closer, and the figure turned to him in silent welcome. No face was discernable within the privacy of the drooping hood, but a withered old finger beckoned him closer. There were seven bottles of brightly coloured liquids set out on the bench, and it was to these that they now turned. These strange waters glowed with an inner light, and each bottle contained one of the seven colours of the rainbow.

"I am the Alchemist, the Magician", the figure explained, its (sexless) voice somewhat muffled by the thick hood. "These are the colours that I mix to make the musick of vision". It unstoppered one of the flasks with a dusty old hand. The most achingly beautiful musick that Kawabata had ever heard poured into the air. As each bottle was unstoppered a new theme was introduced to the musick, which grew ever richer. It was heartbreaking and indescribable, and Kawabata was by now both crying and laughing.

The Alchemist poured a little of each flask into various parts of the chymical apparatus before them, and stoppered each bottle shut again. The musick took on a different air as the Magician set tiny fires in specially prepared parts of his equipment and the liquids began to bubble. Arpeggios began to dance colourfully in the air all around him as sly Kawabata whipped out his carefully concealed recording equipment. Rich cascades of notes welled up and surged over everything like a dancing flood of jewelled rainbows, and cunning Kawabata managed to secretly record every one of them without the Alchemist suspecting a thing.

The musick came to its conclusion and Kawabata hastily packed away his concealed recording studio. The Alchemist, unsuspecting, turned to him and offered him a cup. In the cup glowed a philtre that glowed in colours that you have never seen. "I am the mixer of dreams, and here is the dream that I have mixed for you - drink, and enter it", the Alchemist said. Kawabata took the cup and drank deeply. The black rainbow had him once more, and when he awoke he was here and now in this world that we call "reality".


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