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SELECTED NADJA REVIEWS

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The Life & Death of a Wasp (Broken Spine Productions/Adagio830)

It's not often that you come across an all-star avant-metal collaboration themed around the hot beverage-themed demise of a winged insect, but that's exactly what this strange LP is. Aidan Baker and Leah Buckareff of Nadja team up with Italian harbingers of sludge, Ovo, for a typically glacial exercise in creepy, lumbering doom-gaze. 'A Wasp Flying Around The Sugar Jar' is a slow, creaking starter, but once it's in full flow, the band lock into a punishing grind, complete with screechy female vocals from Ovo's Stefania Pedretti. 'Trapped In The Jar' feels more energised and more experimental, bringing a tone that almost hints at avant-jazz and industrial music, whilst spilling out some serious Linda Blair effects on those vocals. The final movement over on the B-side, 'Drowned In Coffee', is especially pleasing, featuring manic pounding on toms and chanted vocals that sounds like a Swans record lost somewhere in the Middle East.

Boomkat

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Ruins of Morning (Substantia Innominata/Drone Records) 2010

The latest release on the Substantia Innominata label, an offshoot of Drone Records label run by Stefan Knappe of Maeror Tri and Troum, comes from uber prolific aQ faves, doomdrift duo Nadja, whose contribution is a sprawling 40 minute single track, split into two movements and two sides, the first half, beginning with barely there skeletal guitars, hushed vox, a creepy ethereal drift, a sort of doomic slowcore, abstract and dark, the programmed drums come in, but the track continues to creep, and crawl, more melody drifting in, the sound very reminiscent of Codeine, but even slower and lethargic, quite gorgeous and haunting.

It's not until the flipside that the doom drops, and instead of being crushing or heavy, it's gauzey and washed out, very My Bloody Valentine, but way murkier, the drums remain skeletal, the vocals still hushed, just everything is now wrapped in a heaving halo of effulgent buzz, shot through with soaring melancholic melodies, epic and majestic, doom for sure, but soft shoegazey dreamdoom, and the doom begins to fade about 7 or 8 minutes in, before winding back down to the same slowcore crawl that started things off, growing ever more hushed and soft focus, until the last few minutes, a blurred layered outro of muted backwards guitars, and looped layered melodies, all washed out and whispery, but even near the end laced with haunting, slightly ominous low end melodies, before finally fading out completely. As always, gorgeous and minimal, haunting and heavy.

Aquarius Records

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When I See The Sun Always Shines On TV (The End Records) 2009

You probably assumed there was no earthly way that "Only Shallow", the opening track on My Bloody Valentine's immortal Loveless, could possibly get any heavier or more monolithic. And there, apparently, you would have been wrong: the Toronto metal-gaze duo Nadja proves it on the first seconds of their audacious and spectacular new covers record When I See the Sun Always Shines On TV. Their version slows the tempo so drastically that the song feels like it might derail; listening to it feels like watching a drunk friend stagger to their front door and praying they don't trip on their dragging feet. The guitar fuzz is wince-inducingly harsh, as if Aidan Baker gave his amp the Dave Davies treatment: i.e., two slashes straight right through the head. The vocals, while still buried, emanate low and warped from the bottom of the mix instead of floating weightlessly above it. If you could chop and screw a shoegaze record (screw-gaze?) it might sound like this, and Nadja's roaring wind-tunnel version manages to render MBV's original airy and harmless by comparison, as blasphemous as that might sound.

For an ambient metal act, Loveless is basically Everest, and for Nadja to tackle one of its signature songs and flawlessly stick the landing for the opening track of their record gives just a hint of When I See the Sun's ambition and reach. Of all the droning metal-gaze groups—Isis, Caïna, Katatonia—Nadja have the best grasp on massive distortion's ability to alternately bludgeon and soothe, and the overwhelming wall of body-vibrating noise they summon on record is a profoundly physical, even sensual experience. When you produce a sound this enormous, it begins to live a life apart from you, and Nadja have spent their career taming and harnessing the beast they have created. Their previous records were mostly exercises in sound worship, the sort of amniotic sound tanks you immerse yourself in with a pair of boutique headphones when you want your mind obliterated. But on When I See the Sun, they seem to want to prove they also recognize great songwriting, and it turns out they not only have impeccable taste, they also have an instinctive understanding of the type of songs that tend to increase in mystery and intimacy when swaddled in an impenetrable fog of guitars.

Some of their choices are intuitive, even obvious—the cover of "Pea", for instance, from Codeine's 1990 slowcore classic Frigid Stars, feels even more numbed and despondent than the original, which was one of the more emotionally naked, vulnerable moments on the album. Swans' "No Cure For the Lonely", from 1992's Love of Life, is another logical selection, and Nadja hit every step in the song's endlessly descending chord progression with a bleary thud. Their rendition of the Cure's "Faith", meanwhile, is one of the only moments where their reach slightly exceeds their grasp; Baker's murmuring, chant-beneath-the-waves vocals don't quite fit a song that laid so much at the feet of its miraculous vocal performance. It's impossible to hear the contours of the song's melody being traced and not immediately yearn for Robert Smith's pure, keening tenor.

The album's most revelatory moment, in the end, results from one of the most left-field choices: the astonishing cover of Elliott Smith's "Needle in the Hay". Baker and Leah Buckareff's battering ram of noise transforms the original's crystalline fragility into one long, slow, sickening dive downward. Baker's already buried vocals are abstracted to a ghostly, disembodied wisp, which perfectly suits the under-the-breath quality of Smith's angry mantras. Lester Bangs often observed that heavy metal's womblike bass frequencies provided handy sanctuary for the numbed and depressed; Nadja must have recognized in Smith someone who would welcome the comfort that an immersion in pure noise could bring.

Pitchfork — by Jayson Greene

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Radiance of Shadows (Alien8 Recordings) 2007

When ‘O Fortuna’ met ‘Wail of Sumer (And there will your heart be also)’

When Radiance of Shadows appeared late last year, its stupendous existence was in opposition and total defiance of a floundering Doom Metal scene that was barfing up endless Khanate and Burning Witch re-runs like a dying cat coughing up hairballs behind the sofa. Instead, the highly prolific Nadja duo of Aidan Baker and Leah Buckareff delivered, on this their umpteenth release, an even more spectacular and majestic and essential piece of work than any in their already packed five-year existence, shoe-horning into their noise three vast fall-of-empires soundscapes of eternal beauty, each close to a half-hour in length and each one sounding like a cross between the very end of every great Goth album (the dying embers of the Nefilim’s Elyzium springs immediately to mind), the very end of every great post-punk album (Joy Division’s Closer through an ‘Over the Wall’ filter, anyone?), simultaneously summoning up spectral armies of long dead ancestors and drawing down the still-to-be-born future generations, intrigued by all the commotion being kicked up down here by this North American husband-and-wife duo.

Brothers and sisters, regarding this Radiance of Shadows album, I could simply wax lyrical for a coupla thousand words until the purple prose light came on my laptop and/or my stock of hyperbolic mythological metaphors ran out and I’d been forced to create some kind of fake Indo-European patois or even resort to employing a different alphabet to allude to this band’s otherness. I could even reach for the works of John Donne and Andrew Marvell and simply copy out a bunch of verses and say: “Here you go, it’s like a sonic version of that little lot”.

However, this would be cheating.

So I shall, instead, keep this review extremely short and state simply that Radiance of Shadows contains some of the most shattering and emotionally exhausting music ever laid down, and that its incredible usefulness lies in the fact that—however tiring your day was—listening properly to music of such extraordinary intensity brings to their knees those listeners who are still standing upright, turns those who are seated into ritually slaughtered and slouching bogmen, and delivers those already recumbent straight to the Land of Nod. Employing this record as an early evening meditative device, I regularly wake around 3.30am totally disorientated and overwhelmed at the sheer volume of this music (however far down I turn the volume knob), by then probably on its seventh iTunes rotation.

Whether or not Nadja can sustain this level of essential release is not my problem, because I’ve already got enough to last several lifetimes, thank you very much. However, as I was declaring the very same thing two or three releases ago, the appearance of Radiance of Shadows is certainly evidence that Aidan and Leah’s work will only get better, whatever ‘better’ might mean in this marvellously uncontextualizable context. This music is so momentous that it could be the soundtrack to a movie about the whole Jewish nation fleeing Egypt, or the Turkish forced marches of their desperate victims during the Armenian Genocide of the early 20th century, or future Moon landings, or even describe the cries of the Atlanteans 9,700 years ago as the comet impacted and forced their culture under the waves for that final time. Such new peaks have been reached by the sonic and emotional excess contained within the three epic pieces presented in this new Nadja album that each track is in severe danger of becoming a 21st century equivalent of Richard Strauss’s ‘Also Sprach Zarathustra’ or ‘O Fortuna’ from Carl Orff’s ‘Carmina Burana’; ubiquitous presences across whole swathes of contemporary media. Moreover, lazy film makers of the future who—instead of utilizing one of the three tracks from this new Nadja album—thoughtlessly employ extracts of the aforementioned for old time’s sake, will be severely rapped on the knuckles by the powers that be, thereafter to be sent off to isolation wards to meditate on their misdeeds.

Head Heritage — Julian Cope

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Desire In Uneasiness (Crucial Blast) 2007

The cult success of drone-metal outfits such as Sunn 0))) and Khanate brought with it a glut of similarly sludgy and droning albums by other likeminded bands, to the point that it now takes something special for a new release in this genre to stand out. Nadja's Desire in Uneasiness does that, though, by combining the low-end sludge side of things with a more diverse range of outside influences. The lineup here is two bass guitars and, for the first time on one of the group's albums, a live drummer instead of a drum machine. These instruments are often fuzzed-out or otherwise altered (to the point that the drums sometimes sound like a distorted drum machine), and they're often cloaked in layers of electronics and synths that give the music a hazy, mysterious quality. The tracks all segue together on this album, with the slow-motion opener, "Disambiguation," starting things off in menacing fashion. The album quiets down toward the middle, with "Affective Fields" and the beginning of the title track veering into murky dub-like territory reminiscent of some of the late-'90s "illbient" recordings on the Wordsound label. However, the centerpiece here is the extended finale, "Deterritorialization," which rides a steady, mechanized drumbeat and repetitive bassline for nearly 20 hypnotic minutes before abruptly stopping. This track has the same unstoppable momentum of some of Wolf Eyes' better recordings and is really something to behold. Drone disco? Post-metal industrial dub? This music is hard to categorize, but the "drone-metal" tag doesn't do it justice, given the broader range of sounds and ideas at work.

All Music Guide — William York

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Touched (Alien8 Recordings/Conspiracy Records) 2007

Many critics admire the primal mode of engagement that heavy metal encourages its listeners to adopt. The genre critiques rationalized modernity by reveling in irrational experiences—violence, prejudice, extreme alienation—during which the social self breaks down. Through theatrical and ritualistic performances, metal groups imbue the concert moment with a sense of aura—a Sunn O))) show is an event that can’t be mechanically reproduced. And metal fans adhere to a set of tribal mores in order to maintain a strong sense of subcultural identity.

But sexuality—one of the most animalistic facets of human behavior—is glaringly absent from most contemporary headbanging fodder. Mainstream hard rock still indulges misogynistic fantasies, but the stiffness and fussiness of the music that scores these fantasies saps such performances of their libidinousness. And by stripping their female objects of agency and motivation, cock rockers fail to construct realistic women, thereby adding yet another degree of sterility to their catcalls. Meanwhile, underground metal also traffics in idealized abstractions, favoring the language of religious, mystical, and science-fiction allegory, which allows characters and images to fully embody transcendent concepts such as good, evil, nature, or modernity. No room for boot knockin’ here, either.

On Nadja’s first widely released record, 2005’s Truth Becomes Death, the Toronto-based doom rock duo of Aidan Baker and Leah Buckareff crafted the sort of dauntingly conceptual narrative that goes over swimmingly with the metal intelligentsia, adapting a medieval legend to ruminate on the perils of 21st century technology. With Touched, the group eschews mythic conceits in favor of brief, imagistic poems that meditate on sensuality and the intertwining of bodies. And what emerges isn’t just one of the best ever metal albums about sex—Touched explores eros with a dignity and depth seldom heard in the pop world.

Nadja’s willingness to present sensations that are seemingly anathema to those most often voiced in metal should come as no surprise to listeners who have kept track of even a fraction of the band’s formidable CD-R output. From their birth, Nadja have shown little interest in adhering to metal’s scripts. Their aesthetic—a murky well of queasy low-end, cemented in tarpit guitar churn, and enshrined in an echo chamber of bleary feedback—bears a stronger resemblance to that of Tim Hecker’s tidal harsh-ambient compositions than that of Corrupted or Godflesh’s similarly elephantine slogfests. Since most metal junkies demand that precision accompany brutality, Nadja’s sound-world strikes many of these listeners as frustratingly indefinite. Their songs come across, in other words, as the only kind of music pretentious enough to unnerve someone who sees nothing absurd about Iron Maiden’s adaptation of The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner.

But noise never feels accidental in Touched. The torrential screeching doesn’t obscure the music, it colors it. Dainty flutes are audible amidst the furor; Nadja clearly exercise a painterly sense of restraint. And the record’s architecture testifies further to this music’s resolute composition—each song serves as an act in a dramatic narrative rife with suggestions of physical passion. Opener “Mutagen” is foreplay: this instrumental rides a simple, repetitive chord progression for fourteen minutes, riffs oozing with the escalating tension of a modal Miles Davis piece, teasing us with, but never yielding, denouement. Next, “Stays Demons” grinds more fiercely and purposively, a shimmering, high-pitched beam of feedback projecting an unattainable horizon to which the earth-moving guitar-march aspires. “Incubation/Metamorphosis” is more smeared and amorphous, a paean to the loss of time, space, and self that transpires in an engulfing embrace: “Your fingers stretch webs across / My skin, entwine and enclose, / And wrap me within sticky / Strands of silk—the cocoon / Of your flesh”. The subject eventually bursts “out of the ends of your fingers / Like a thousand blind larvae…”, and he then pushes on towards climax in “Flowers of Flesh”, which, with its drilling drum machine and Kevin Shields-esque field of treble, is at once the album’s most punishing and most melodic song.

While both poetic and sonic sensuality pervade Touched, one could argue that all of Nadja’s screaming and bludgeoning precludes (for most of us, at least) the possibility of actually feeling turned on by listening to the record, making for yet another ultimately sexless metal record. There’s some credibility to this argument—Nadja do indeed celebrate sexuality through abstraction. But by lending a monsoon of charcoal-colored amplifier carnage the form of a sexual encounter, Baker and Buckareff don’t perform an act of Gnostic transubstantiation; they instead induce in us synaesthesic overload, conflating two sensory experiences. This abstract, rather than mimetic, representation of lovers’ pleasure demands that we approach Touched with careful ears and limber imaginations. And by attacking the groin through the gut, Nadja, like any good metal band, impress upon us with a sense of force and presence so often absent from postmodernity’s simulations.

Pop Matters — Phillip Buchan

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Bodycage (Nothingness/Profound Lore/Equations Records/Broken Spine Productions) 2005/2007/2008/2011

Nadja may be too smart for their own good. On this reissue of a limited CD-R, the Canadian duo has created a three-part noise symphony about a rare congenital disease where bone forms in muscles, tendons, ligaments and other connective tissues. Despite the heady subject, Bodycage drips pure emotion. In various spaces, overdriven flute passages sweat out bittersweet confusion while a drum machine hammers out trance-inducing tribal rhythms. And although technically it was originally released before last year’s stellar Truth Becomes Death, which ostensibly retold the Jewish legend about the Golem of Prague, Bodycage surpasses that album in visceral sensation.
The album is so moody, in fact, that it could easily double as claustrophobic soundtrack music to a David Cronenberg film. The synths on “Ossification” warble between crisp static and minor chords the way only collectives like Goblin have previously achieved. Between their music and the Derek Hess-homage album art, they didn’t need to include lyrics that spell out the disease’s effects (“I feel the bones growing inside, cutting off all movement”) to convey the inner fears that accompany the syndrome; it’s sweltering within the music.
Although Godflesh’s Justin Broadrick influence echoed throughout Truth Becomes Death, Bodycage sounds like nothing else. Nadja’s unabashed love of atonal classical music beams (albeit dully) throughout, stressing lack-of-form over function, making something normally scary into something wholly frightening. And while it’s clear they’re fully aware of what they’re doing psychologically, the music really speaks—and feels—for itself.

Decibel Magazine — Kory Grow

änksa jee!

näedsiis, ei saagi tulla. eelmine kord oli küll v. hea.

bonne, las toovad merchi ka jälle kui viitsivad

noh eks neil midagi kindlasti ole...merch ju rändurmuusiku leib;)
eks ma täpsustan kah aja lähenedes.

Nadja eelmised käigud sai maha magatud, prooviks seekord teisiti.

katseta jah.

lihtsalt huvi pärast kysin, kas see on mingi minu raali anomaalia v6i näevad ka teised et mingid postitused on kadund ja mingi suht hiline postitus on kerkinud esimeseks jne...?

FB's on märgitud selle tuuri juurde veel:

Touring in support of our new album Excision (Important Records) and the re-issued Thaumogenesis (Broken Spine Productions).

I'm not exactly sure of everything we wil have with us on tour...but at least these and probably more, depending on what we have or have not sold:

Bodycage (cd)
Thaumogenesis (cd)
Excision (2cd)
The Bungled & The Botched (cd)
Touched (cd)
Fool, Redeemer (cd/lp)

http://www.rada7.ee/artikkel/61767/Palju-onne-Skypes-Go-Change-the-World-Award-2012-voitja-Talbot

krt! tuleb üks kord ära näha see asi. kaua võib..

kanješna...nje nadja zdatt bolše...

Juuksuri laiv oli väga änksa - see müra võtab aju mõnusalt tühjaks. Heliospherele ei jõudnud, aga ootused on taas kõrged.

kindlasti pettuma ei pea.

flaierid tänasest saadaval Krahlis, Woodstockis, World Clinicus, Stanfordis, Surfhouse'is...

ja muuseas, iseprinditavat varianti ei tule. nii et kellele 2 euri on raha, leidke endale flaier.

Sündmus Facebookis:
http://www.facebook.com/events/132542040214238/?context=create

kraalis flaiereid on veel?
vaja leida enne reedet .. mitu tükki

Milline ajakava on?

Milline ajakava on?

see, mida tema ütles

Kahju, et flaikusid Lõunaosariikidesse ei liigu. Küsisin poeinimeste käest, nad oleks tahtnud anda küll.

flaierid on otsas
neetud

palun ajakava

Vist on nii:

22 uksed
23 Talbot
00 Nadja

flaierid on otsas
neetud
surfhouse´is on 10tk..mine võta sealt

oijah .. mõlemad bändid oli ikka nii hea. nadja ajal mõjusid madalad kuidagi eriti võimsalt. kuulaks iga kell veel

Talps oli ka väga äge jah, kuid Nadja live on senise aasta üks meeldejäävamaid.

esimene ES üritus kus ma ise paraku kohal ei saand viibida...aga tore et tulla saite!

oli väärt õhtu

painkiller, pildid palun.

ot mingi jama picasa'ga .. ei lase sisse logida

krdi jama .. picasa ei toeta enam linuxit :(

mõned pildid

sorry page was not found

jääb mulje nagu Marko oleks kogu selle aja palehigis nende piltide üles saamisega jännanud, endiselt feilides
isegi auto on ikka veel dumped snakehouse ees, varsti läheb vist ära dune buggyks:)))

peakski seda putitama minema ... 3 juhet 5st teoreetiliselt selge kuhu minema peaks

uus pildilink

krt picasa korralikult ümber tehtud, mingi google+ jama ja muud asjad