Perhaps it was so always and everywhere,
but in modern Asia and corporate Nihon in pathetic particular, aside
from 4 or 5 stars, the most phenomenally artesian musicians reliably
starve, quit or clench the margins of a day job. Happily, rapture being
what it is, few ever quit totally, though the corporate media continue
to obscure them and abort countless terra-erotic opportunities for new
growth and creation.
The Kyoto Coven Works conspires to
revive the practice of music as shamanic moment, taking heart and
direction from two antique open secrets: One, like the Tao, the Muse
lurks everywhere - playful, fertile and promiscuously democratic (never
know whose loins She'll be warming up in next); and two, Her ardor is
contagious.
Adepts who share little else in common, but fervently
embody Her esprit can swiftly converge, confuse and inexplicably ignite
incredibly sensuous melodies. Coven work strives to occasion such
trysts and share the epiphanies.
