According to ama zon dot com the most valuable album I own - gotta be the most Sterlingsome medium for any kind of culture/art in fact, my books are worth f.a. - is Keiji Haino's mid-90s solo record, "I Said, This Is The Son Of Nihilism", which you can order second hand for a cracking £65.63 (or £62.95 new, or £34 from discogs dot com, or, y'know, free, which is the reason of a free-market w/its eye off the ball). And a CD to boot! I'm not one to speak (or do anything) prematurely, but I'm pretty sure this has been a good investment. Think it could form the core of my NEST EGG. Pops was always looking out for you, kids.
What a downer it must have been to live in the very-much-before now, the pre-industrial era, anytime before I could assess my assets and listen to a monolithic hour-long storm of electric blues at the same time. Any album that starts with so much mass makes me wonder what was happening before the album started, the preparation we're not privy too, like how thinking about the big bang leads you on to wonder about the previous step in the causal chain. To this know-nothing outsider, the most obvious instance of Ma is the silence before the beginning. Haino sez "IN THE BEGINNING WAS VIBRATION", which is sure true here, but as soon as it starts I'm thinking of the tension that's been created in the pre-beginning that allows him to milk out the vibration from the guitar.
A reflective individual & not one to lose sight of the source (he hates samplers!), Haino has refined the playing of his big rock idols so that he plays with the tension of the electric charge as much as that of the strings. And this isn't some anal technical exercise, like a good athlete or lover, he starts by blowing out all this tension of electric fields, stretches it all out to air, but really its rock qua blues, Hendrix style, rather than rock qua rock, cutting to the source again. Of course Haino's Japanese, which means he's collapsing direct/indirect, dressing up to express himself honestly, a true rock gesture.
This album is an extravagent gesture all round; clenched fist jitters, monochrome drones panning out to wide-scope watery chords, playing in the echo of his amplifier - and a real CHAMELEONIC thing too, refusing to settle and instead changing shape through marches and riffs and chord changes with this poor woman singing in Japanese over the top. And MAN! Since I first decided to write about this I must have got sucked into listening to it six times or so, and still it's elusive; every time you get used to one of his moves he gets restless and shifts, always getting tense again.
Contemplation of this part of my portfolio reveals it to be strong, maybe 21.876666667 times as good as the copy of Once Upon A Time In America that LANDO bought. I just need the value of the rest of my collection to increase now so that a financial animal like me has a reason to listen to it.