Review: Aidan Baker ‘& You Still Fall In’
Immersing oneself in the gifted musical realm crafted by Aidan Baker, the experimental guitarist and multi-instrumentalist hailing from Canada and now residing in Berlin, Germany, is like being submerged into a vast ocean of sound – an aural journey that oscillates between moments of tranquil serenity and cathartic upheaval.
Baker‘s sonic landscapes are woven from the ebb and flow of minimalistic guitar drones, each wave cresting and receding in an unrelenting tide that engulfs the listener, offering no quarter or respite. Yet, this immersive experience serves as a conduit for the artist’s innermost expressions and the ever-shifting states of consciousness that arise during his ceaseless exploration beyond the boundaries of the human mind.
Through his music, Baker invites us to surrender to the depths of his sound, to let ourselves be carried away by the currents of his creativity as he navigates the uncharted waters of sonic experimentation, both musically and through the mesmerising sound of his vocal cords.
In doing so, we become willing participants in his ongoing quest to push the limits of perception and understanding, to venture into the unknown realms that lie just beyond the edge of our conscious awareness. And as we emerge from this immersive journey, we are left with a profound sense of having glimpsed something ineffable, a fleeting connection to the enigmatic depths of the human experience as channelled through the transformative power of his music.
Baker‘s musical journey as one half of the renowned experimental drone-post-metal duo Nadja stretches back over two decades to the early 2000s, when he first joined creative forces with his wife Leah Buckaroff, a talented multi-instrumentalist who lends her skills on bass, violin and vocals. Together, they carved out an impressive and prolific body of work, unleashing a steady stream of mesmerising studio albums, EPs and live recordings showcasing their signature blend of droning, hypnotic soundscapes and crushing, metallic dirges. Not content to be pigeonholed, they’ve also engaged in numerous collaborations and split releases with other boundary-pushing artists, further expanding their sonic palette.
Through their captivating music and relentless touring schedule, Nadja has cultivated a devoted cult following of adventurous listeners eager to immerse themselves in the band’s darkly entrancing and deeply immersive aural universe. With each new release and incendiary live performance, the duo continue to push the frontiers of heavy experimental music, solidifying Nadja‘s status as an uncompromising creative force.
Driven by an insatiable curiosity and passion for sonic exploration, Baker has embarked on a ceaseless journey of musical discovery as a solo artist, collaborating with a diverse array of like-minded artists who share his adventurous spirit and experimental approach. From partnering with renowned Canadian electronic musician Tim Hacker to delving into the atmospheric soundscapes of Montreal’s Eric Quach (aka Thisquitearmy) and the hypnotic, motorik grooves of Berlin’s Hypnodrone Ensemble, his collaborative endeavours span a wide spectrum of genres and styles.
Perhaps one of his most intriguing collaborations has been with the Dutch sonic demolition duo Dead Neanderthals, pushing the boundaries of conventional music-making. Equally noteworthy are his collaborations with the immensely talented John Colpitts, Stacy Taylor, Melissa Guion and Rohan Rebeiro, with whom he created a captivating series of releases under the moniker Trio Not Trio, released through Gizeh Records. These varied collaborations are a testament to his exploration of contrasting dynamics and creative processes, not to mention his new musical venture called Tavare, a psychedelic post-rock and shoegaze-influenced power trio.
Baker builds upon cosmic, introspective foundations, his whispered vocals and sighed melodies drifting over luminous ambient textures and spectral sonic backdrops…
And so, as we start exploring his latest solo offering & You Still Fall In, after a thoughtful and thorough introduction for those readers who are unfamiliar with his oeuvres, we find ourselves gently transported into Baker‘s uniquely nocturnal sonic realm, a place inhabited by evocative whispers and wistful sighs that seem to hang in the still air.
The enigmatically title, as Baker reveals in our short conversation, ‘draws its lyrical inspiration from the hauntingly beautiful Stina Nordenstam composition On Falling, a track from her 2004 swan song album The World Is Saved.’ Yet this poetic fragment also serves as a subtle nod to his own earlier work, specifically 2002s I Fall Into You, a mesmerising journey into kosmische, hypnotically entrancing aural spaces and softly murmured spoken words, birthed from a close collaboration with two fellow sonic adventurers.
In this sense, & You Still Fall In represents not only a continuation of Baker‘s signature dreamlike compositional approach, but also a means of acknowledging and honouring the creative paths that have led him to this point, weaving past and present into an intoxicating, immersive tapestry of sound that invites us to drift blissfully away on its currents.
From the very first notes of the opening title track, we find ourselves overwhelmed in a profound and pervasive melancholy, a heart-wrenching solitude conveyed through both the understated yet evocative instrumentation and the raw, unguarded vocals that seem to emanate from a soul wholly possessed by a sense of immaculate sorrow. The journey then descends into even darker, more unsettling realms with Drowning Not Waving, a haunting fusion of industrial and musique concrete elements that unfolds with a deliberate, almost agonizing slowness, as if time itself has been suspended.
This is followed by the tender ache of You Say You Can See Inside Me, its meditative vocals floating atop minimalist bass pulses, laying the soul bear with disarming vulnerability. The instrumental When The Waves They Parted serves as a momentary balm, its delicate, mournful tones evoking the fragility of a freshly sutured wound still raw to the touch. But there is no true reprieve, as Still Cold From the Rain and You Ate My Heart (With A Smile) draw the listener ever deeper into a labyrinthine inner world of hushed, introverted sorrow, the vocals delivered in intimate whispers that speak of a pain too private to be voiced any louder.
The album’s closing track, the sprawling Thin Film Interface, serves as a final testament to the power of minimalist ambient soundscapes to evoke the deepest of emotions – a twelve-minute elegy of sparsely plucked guitar notes and shimmering celestial tones that seems to map the very contours of the soul in all its desolate beauty, capturing the essence of what it means to be abandoned by life itself, yet somehow still clinging to the faintest hope of salvation.
In conclusion, on his latest offering, Baker builds upon cosmic, introspective foundations, his whispered vocals and sighed melodies drifting over luminous ambient textures and spectral sonic backdrops. The result is a captivating descent into a dreamlike netherworld of sound, an immersive and meditative listening experience that invites you all to fall into its quietly spellbinding depths.
Label: Gizeh Records
Band Links: Facebook | Bandcamp | Spotify | Instagram
Scribed by: Domenico ‘Mimmo’ Caccamo
