Under the Jaguar Sun is long and difficult to listen to. In most cases, this would be a negative thing. But as the latest in a long line of releases from the absurdly prolific Aidan Baker-- who along with Leah Buckareff records as Nadja as well as solo under his own name with like-minded collaborators-- it's another incredibly small step forward for a guy that makes music that has never really been about forward movement.
The first half of this two-disc set (they are timed so that they could also be listened to simultaneously) finds Baker in standard Nadja territory. Guitar tones stretch out for minutes on end, blanketing songs in endless elastic loops of feedback before drums thundercrack their way in with appealingly human sloppiness. There's no good entry point except the beginning and no real escape until it ends. But Baker has made a home in this sound, carving pleasurable moments out of the sometimes arduous drone music listening experience.
In less talented hands, this could come off as a slapdash reach for doom-and-gloom experimentalism, but Baker manages to pull enough reference points that he's able to sit comfortably in the crossroads of weirdo jams-- somewhere between post-rock's languid build and release and doom metal's intensely loud textured hum. It may sound contradictory, but Baker is making overwhelming background music. It's so intrusive that it's nearly impossible to focus entirely on, but it manages to make everything in your natural surroundings ultra-serious and heavy.
The second disc, when heard on its own, is where Baker's lofty emotional goals betray him. The expansive landscapes of heavy guitar are mostly toned down in favor of structured feedback and quivering strings. Good elements when they're played against the emotional swell of the tracks on the first disc, but taken separately-- especially after listening to an entire disc's worth of this stuff-- it's too much. This second half feels like Baker is treading water. With so many releases per year, he seems more preoccupied with documenting the process of making glacially slow music than actually pushing his work into new territory. Here, he would benefit from leaving some of this on the cutting room floor in favor of a more definitive document.
Ultimately, Under the Jaguar Sun is a Nadja record for those who are already into Nadja. It aims for all the emotions you want from a Nadja record-- crushing heartbreak giving way to bleak reality and occasional slivers of hope and brightness. But this many albums in, it just comes off as another competent release from a dude who is slowly clawing his way to something more transcendent.
