Electronic, Experimental, Drone, Folk, Japanese, Japan, Psych, Masaki Batoh, Ghost; CD - Ex Used condition Brain pulse music is made using a stereotypically goofy-looking contraption, one that features a wired headset and a readout monitor on a cart. If someone told me it was an object retrieved from Nikola Tesla's laboratory, I might believe them. Brain pulse music was initially conceived to treat patients with "congenital abnormality of the cerebral nervous system." It is generated via a device that consists of a headpiece, goggles, and a "motherboard." Brain waves are sent via radio to the computer, which translates them into wave pulses and then into sound.  Batoh had a Brain pulse machine machine created for this project, which transformed from an experimental endeavor to a therapeutic one in the wake of the earthquake. The seven tracks on Brain pulse music were prayers and requiems, according to Batoh. Those words suggest a projected empathy to the victims; listening to Brain pulse music, though, it seems just as likely that the album was a vehicle through which Batoh and his collaborators coped with the devastation around them. Certainly it's difficult to imagine the discordant reeds of "Kumano Codex 1" or the morphing digital crevasses of "Aiki No Okami" being of much use to the injured or grieving, but I can absolutely imagine that long, meditative pieces here were salves for their creators.

Japanese, Japanoise, Noise, Psych, Experimental, Rock; CD - Ex Used condition In its original form this album dates back to the early days of Melt Banana, seeing an initial release in 1994 on British cassette label Chocolate Monk. This reissue is of the 1999 A-Zap edition and In typical Melt Banana fashion it crams 32 tracks into a brisk 28 minutes, exhibiting a sense of efficiency only previously found in Napalm Death's catalogue. The first side of the original cassette was occupied by a live recording made at an improvisation festival in 1992, while the second side was recorded to a multitrack cassette recorder in 1994. This is about as raw as the band have ever sounded: you can hear their raucous beginnings and their characteristically playful approach to blowing your ears off first finding its feet on this album. Punk rock has never sounded like so much fun - this is an absolute blast.

Japanese, Japanoise, Acid Mothers Temple, Experimental, Psych, Noise; CD - Ex Used condition A one time collaboration between the core members of Acid Mothers Temple and the Japanese duo, Afrirampo - Oni-guitar & vocals and Pika-drums & vocals. Best described as 'experimental tribal'. I mean, this CD is out-there. Title track "We Are Acid Mothers Afrirampo" (27:41) is highly experimental, trippy with plenty of freaked-out guitar playing. "The Exorcist Of Love" (12:00) is even weirder than the first cut. I mean - what are these guy ON? Really! "The Man From The Magic Mountain" (16:40) features some good whirlwind sound effects and almost jazz-like arrangements. Even though this effort is pretty strange, I'm giving it a four-star rating because to me, it sounds like all players here are putting in over-time to busting their butts to record this title.

Evan Parker, Improv, Jazz, New Zealand, Leo Records, Richard Nunns is a New Zealander of European descent who studies and plays traditional Maori musical instruments. His pairing with Evan Parker (in a performance recorded at the 1999 International Jazz Festival in Wellington), while not necessarily an obvious match, works largely because of the saxophonist’s extraordinary flexibility. Many of the Maori instruments are percussive and produce little sustain. They’re made of natural materials like gourds, wood, or shells; they don’t reverberate in the way a modern designed and manufactured instrument like Parker’s saxophone does. Consequently, the music here tends to be sparse and quiet. Parker plays in a near subtone much of the time, and occasionally sounds as if he’s playing at some distance from the microphone. A person unacquainted with the subtleties of the Maori instruments is, of course, unable to evaluate Nunns’ skills from a cultural standpoint. But the music he produces is indeed moving. The gestures are small but concentrated. The instruments’ nature doesn’t give Nunns the flexibility to follow and respond to Parker’s every move, so he instigates, as Parker responds and embellishes. It’s much to the latter’s credit that he’s able to adapt to Nunns’ aesthetic so completely. It’s equally admirable for Nunns to have successfully absorbed the Maori manner of making music. It says something about the timeless nature of improvised music that modern jazz’s most advanced saxophonist can improvise convincingly with a musician who plays instruments so ancient in conception. Undoubtedly the most affecting element of this music is its innate humanness; on one particular track, for example, the breaths pulsing through Parker’s sax and Nunns’ Pukaea rakau kauri (a wooden trumpet) sound as if they might be coming from the same set of lungs, so well-attuned the men are to one another and the exigencies of improvised performance. A unconventionally beautiful meeting of souls. ~ Chris Kelsey