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19 APRIL 2012
ACID MOTHERS TEMPLE
OBJECT SPACE : 1818 ½ EAST SPRAGUE
SPOKANE, WASH.
***
What unknown aural pleasures lay in wait for the individual
lucky enough to be paying attention! The Acid Mothers Temple were in town for
ostensibly ONE NIGHT – a fraction of a night, even – they had to drive to
Minnesota, you see. One attendee, PXXXX XXXX employee by day and music buff by night, was heard remarking that he was at an
irrelevant drinkery poring through the local alt-weekly when the news hit that he
might be able to “catch some Pikachu” (not actual quote) and high-tailed it on
over to the International District immediately, discarding plans to view the
probably awesome Sound of Noise in favor
of more immediate, transitory and LOUD sounds and noise in store at the Object
Space.
Tonality of vibrations over the course of the night ranged
from broad to jarring, as onlookers (for the low and excellent price of $5)
witnessed and absorbed sounds pulled from unknown sources. Space Movies
initiated the spiral, cutting through the thick and noteworthy silence that
defines the Sound of Object Space at rest. Hooves followed suit, further
explicating upon the potential of a space designed for the exhibition of
deliberate noise while demonstrating the ease and effectiveness of the wall
& ceiling surfaces for projected video samples to allow subjective
communion of visual and auditory information. Everything from the
hermetically-sealed plastic wrap of the ceiling to the excellent arbitrarily or
deliberated-placed girders informed a distinct and different experience
depending on where one stood.
Best seat in the house? Up against the telephone pole in
front of the goddamn entryway: The perfect amount of non-abrasive auditory
mind-jelly and an open ear to the locals, one of whom was kind enough to wax
wistful / philosophical on Spokane’s own coffee-loving alma mater, David Lynch,
opening a conversationally infinite feedback loop of logic and inference – “if
Bob and Mike are the—“ SHUT UP you’re missing the point! Everyone knows that
the storyline to Twin Peaks was an elongated boring ruse to force the viewer
into disregarding the plotline entirely and instead appreciate the fucking
excellent things that constitute living in the Pacific Northwest: Black Coffee!
Cherry Pie! Goddamn Evergreens and sympathetic but flawed characters! Discourse
unfolding on East Sprague avenue, itself an allegorical microcosm of untapped
resources and questionable subtexts open to interpretation!
Meanwhile, the Rainbow Room, one door to the East, home of
cheap drafts, wells, and Addams Family Pinball, is so pleased with the influx
of randoms into their bar spilling over from the noise next door that they
offer an OPEN INVITATION to anyone inclined to make musical noise on a
Wednesday or Thursday at their specific discretion (and of course, they gave
consent to redistribute this information as I see fit). Keep your ears to the
ground or do your own field research; I recommend the Irish Trash Can ($8) and
the pinball (3 credits for $1).
And the Fucking Acid Mothers Temple… stopping over before hoofing it to the MidWest, full
of knowledge and sounds we will never be able to adequately discuss due to a
severe language barrier that not even three years of A- college Nihongo could salvage, (though they do tell me that “sumimasen” constitutes most interactions anyhow) …these omoshiroi
na senshi summoned unimaginable sounds from
their “inner cosmos”, steadily building and shaping the will of the crowed into
a tense maelstrom of nervous energy which could only be resolved by the Fire
Marshall abruptly halting the show and requiring everyone to leave.
Pretty goddamn satisfied but still thirsting for more,
stragglers filtered over to the Rainbow and then to an adjacent Punk House for
more noise, delivered by Charlie “Earwig,” who I can assure you is very
protective of his proprietary noise toys and would not let me play with them.
ARBITRARY SCALE OF QUALITATIVE ANALYSIS: TEN STARS /
ELEVEN
