NADJA – truth becomes
death
(CD, alien8)
The
big size needs big breath, from deep sea diving to mountain climbing
to long distance running or from building a company or a giant artwork from
scratch, all those things that aim for size and impact need a lot of
preparation, mental and physical training and endurance. These days an
important part of our fringe music is based on big size and impact, either
coming from volume or from time span. The idea of playing long and minimal
music isn’t all that new, even La Monte Young and John Cage knew about
their ancestors – from gothic monks to tribal dances – but the means of
production and the atmosphere has changed. Cage and Young would have shit
their pants on a Sunn0))) and Earth show and I have no idea what the
approach of an epic, overwhelming and overpowering floodwave such as Nadja
would have done to them. Plowed them into the ground maybe at first impact,
but I guess they would also have been impressed and delighted by the music.
Even in a dark and sombre environment such as this one, there is a (not so
hidden, at times) beauty and harmony. All you have to do is to open your
ears for about half an hour or so and listen.
Aidan Baker is not unknown as a drone-master with a
varied range of tones and abilities. From ARC (with his brother Richard) to
his solo works to this collaboration with Leah Buckareff, he has been
producing and releasing music on various levels and labels for the last
years in an impressive number. How he managed to keep such a low profile in
most places is beyond me, maybe it is just a matter of distribution.
Consequently, everywhere “truth becomes death” seems to be regarded as
Nadja’s debut album, even though there are a couple of CDR-releases and
various splits and EPs around. Well, the surprise will be, that if you get
interested in Baker’s work, you’ll have quite a big collection do dive
into that is in itself very varied.
Nadja is the dark and monstrous relative in the
collection. Right from the start it is obvious that this here is a heavy
approach. Combining the outermost limits of metal and minimal noise into a
vast sphere of dense sounds that at times turn into wavering mountains of
bass noise flowing with beautiful harmonies, at times turn into mountainous
riffs that stomp in giant steps over the surface, and at times even turning
the mix of background noise and a harshly striked chord into a industry hall
working at full force. The duo manages to produce a surrounding of sound to
the listener that even though it is highly sinister and seemingly dangerous
nevertheless has a warm embrace. Even though that wouldn’t be necessary.
If you can’t move, there is no need to convince someone to stay by being
nice to them, is there.
Vocals are buried somewhere in the whole vast burning
ocean of sound, except for a little part somewhere in the last minutes of
“Breakpoint”. Neverminding their almost purely musical usage, for a
literary versed writer and bookstore-worker such as Baker, the words still
have to be important. There are influenced or rather inspired by old stories
such as the Golem and newer ones such as “The Procedure” (by Mulisch) or
“The Bug” (by Ullman). Such existentially bleak and with regards to
humanity and humankind rather pessimistic sources of inspiration of course
fit the music quite well, and will be hints or possibilities of
identification for the target group that work.
