The loose German collective known as Baja has drawn numerous comparisons since its stunning 2006 debut Maps/Systemalheur (see: Swan Fungus’ Top 100 Albums Of 2007, whoops!), specifically to Gastr del Sol and David Grubbs. The comparisons have some merit, as Baja’s chief engineer Daniel Vujanic has a comparably unique ear for deconstructing musical tropes and melding various genres into a single composition. 2008’s Wolfhour (see: Swan Fungus’ Top 100 Albums Of 2008) exemplified Vujanic’s ability to create symphonic yet minimalist pieces that render classification impossible. The latest Baja release, entitled Aether Obelisk, delivers more of the same…if such a generalization were remotely plausible.
The most-immediately intriguing aspect of Aether Obelisk is the subtly with which the album moves. Upon first listening, it is useless to try one’s hand at distinguishing when a song begins and ends. What listeners are left with is a pastiche of styles and moods that traverse the history of recorded sound. The guitars pick angular patterns, decorative drums both live and electronic drop in and out at random, distant horns are as abstract as a one of Pollock’s paintings. In fact, the entire album passes like a sonic art gallery filled with splatters and drips. To attempt a guess at what comes next will only end in disappointment.
Vujanic’s ability to keep listeners on their toes could conceivably have a polarizing effect on the audience. Some will surely come away from the album feeling like its compositions are largely unfinished, or that the record as a whole lacks direction and form. In fact, it wouldn’t be a surprise if negative reactions included references to perceived pretentiousness or intellectualism. Indeed, Aether Obelisk as well as Wolfhour and Maps/Systemalheur are not for everyone. The solution to overcoming feelings of “I don’t get it” or “It’s trying to be too smart” are to leave preconceptions about “genres” or “styles” behind and simply embrace the album as a complete work of art.
“The Fever Almanach Aka Catscratchcatscratch” is a choice example for an attempt to draw a map of Vujanic’s musical deconstruction. It begins with a few seconds of electronic glitches before succumbing to a brief piano melody. After thirty seconds, that melody is pushed to the background while spattered electronic drums and keyboards wash away the melody. Voices digitized to sound like polyglot sing, “It’s just a scratch / Every part is aching I say” among other unrecognizable lyrics. Two minutes into the track, all that remains from the original composition is that lone piano. Now its melody has changed to something more sinister and muted. Horns and droning chimes dominate the mix. This movement meanders, the din building and expanding to encompass more noise until a pretty acoustic guitar starts picking a melody that dances between melancholia and hopefulness. Trance-like ambient flourishes confuse the ears. The song is only half-over, and already it has distinguished itself as four different songs, all of which could be classified as different genres. Folktronica, free-jazz, post-rock, ambient experimental…it’s easier just to defy categorization and appreciate Aether Obelisk for what is is: challenging, enlightening, and beautiful.
If I can write in the first-person for a moment, I find it fascinating that my usually closed-minded approach to listening to records has now been tamed enough to enjoy this music. Whereas I am usually the first person to scoff at abstract art (especially fine art, the late Jackson Pollock included), I find myself making the same arguments for Daniel Vujanic and Baja that my arty friends make for Pollock, Jasper Johns or Franz Kline. I’ve always responded to them by touting the classical talents of painters like Jan Van Eyck or Pieter Bruegel the Elder (those are my go-to painters, thanks a lot UVM for that awesome Art History: Renaissance To Modern elective!) for their ability to perfectly render human forms or scenes. In my eyes, that has always been the mark of a true artist; throwing paint on a canvas or producing a work that is simply a streak of blue paint doesn’t feel like “art” to me. Baja defies that notion of mine, and I am not quite sure why. But I appreciate it, and its making me rethink my theories about other artistic mediums. Any kind of art that forces us to fundamentally rethink our personal aesthetics deserves high praise, and although I feel like Aether Obelisk is not the pinnacle of Baja’s recorded output, Daniel Vujanic deserves immense credit for his ability to force us into questioning ourselves and each other about why we really enjoy music.
Aether Obelisk was released on March 17th by the record label Other Electricities, and can be purchased from the label, through Amazon.com, or from a host of other online retailers and independent music stores. Headphones could be useful.
Side note: As a fan of all things pun-ny, “Prism Break” might be the best song title I’ve heard in quite some time. Kudos!
Baja – Be Quick, Be Quiet And Mean
Baja – Kitten (Chaos & Numerology)
