At this stage in his career, I could not think of a more appropriate name for Toth’s work other than Wooden Wand. It’s a wholesome, almost off-the-beaten-path version of magic. Toth is able to conjure music that I doubt any other person — save for the shamans and wizards of Appalachia and the Ozarks — is capable of in such distinct bursts. Kilim is his latest hit from the cauldron, and though it contains a lot of magical ingredients from his former Vanishing Voice and Sky High days, there’s a lot of organic bits he’s collected along his many journeys to the other side. “Pilgrim” stirs the pot at the same speed throughout, though a pinch of psychedelia newts and comely folk root certainly make the potion far more potable and tasty than its repetitious simmer would hint. The cassette’s namesake it far more adventurous. After downing his elixir, Toth begins to transmute and transform. He’s another being, slowly creeping the swamps and porches of the deep South looking for a new person to use his magic upon. It’s hypnotic and before you even realize it, you have become the latest test subject. Even though this tape doesn’t bare the Wooden Wand name, it certainly corrals that intimate mysticism. Only 100 copies of this bad boy, and even the pickiest of cassette connoisseurs should grab a cup full and become part of the ritual.