Axolotl

If Memory Theatre‘s anti-Suzuki-method hissy fits strike you as less uranium-dense and more nuanced than those on last year’s psychic aneurysm Way Blank, it isn’t because San Francisco violinist, moaner and wavelength twister Karl Bauer felt a sudden need to lighten up. Rather, Theatre haphazardly nets material from Axolotl’s limited-edition CDRs and vinyl recorded earlier this decade (originally released through micro-indies Collective Jyrk, Spirit of Orr and Gipsy Sphinx) and demonstrates that Bauer has more than excruciating, avant-garde bulldozing stored on his hard drive. Bauer’s noisy drone flavors are filthily exquisite, from the ululating, graveyard stew of “Bions” to “Lake Garden,” a restless leviathan hive of bent, sizzling, scrambled string tones. Theatre offers a gateway into the seamy underworld of new age, and it’s a fully purgatorial immersion.

Excerpt of “Chemical Theatre” by Axolotl, from Memory Theatre: