Edition of 500 copies; released in a silver foil stamped sleeve.
If there are two camps of noise -
holistic vs hubristic; psychedelic vs pugilistic; the joyous vs the
jock - then Karl Bauer’s Axolotl recordings plot most thoroughly the
route away from bully-boy excess and ever-outwards to an approximately
infinite universe, with Telesma his calling card, the deepest and most
affecting set he’s yet unleashed. Bauer sources drone as his bedrock
and he repeatedly excites the flat-line by pushing everything just into
the red and then letting molecules of texture and distortion bump
against each other, mapping constellations of unbridled ecstatic tone.
engorged electricity and loop logic that inhabits Telesma suggests any
number of peers and precedents - imagine Astral Social Club remixing
those mid-period Cluster records; the massed hum of Takehisa Kosugi
overpowering Wolfgang Voigt’s Gas and All projects; a ten-year old
LaMonte Young sighing to the shortwave non-songs of Sunroof! It’s
deeply suggestive stuff. But Bauer’s trail into the eternal is littered
with personal touches, from the fairy floss white noise of “Apergy” to
the organ-as-bee-swarm purr of the title track, where Bauer’s lips and
tongue seemingly kiss the cosmos.
Anyone who has spent any
time following up the complex topography of post-Dream Syndicate
higher-mind drone sound will have lost a good portion of their hearing
to lesser ingrates – hipsters genuflecting to Conrad and company
without sourcing the breathless rhapsody of internal flight. Well,
you’re on safe ground with Axolotl - no Johnny-come-lately, Bauer’s one
of the few psychonauts pushing the field through into the next torched,
glittering zone of ecstasy. Easily the best
reissue-of-limited-CDR I ever did encounter.