Midira Records / Cruel Nature Records – 24th October 2025
Christopher Nosnibor
A new Nadja release is always cause for a pique of interest. Excitement doesn’t feel like quite the right term for an act who create such dense, dark, brooding soundscapes. Centred around the duo of Leah Buckareff and Aidan Baker, each release marks a shift thanks to the contribution of a range of guest performers, and cut is no exception – and this time, following the instrumental epic that was Labyrinthine (2022) – we have vocals, from not just Baker and Buckareff, but also Tristen Bakker, Oskar Bakker-Blair and Lane Shi Otayonii, among others. They certainly bring a lot of guests to a party which features just four tracks. But that is ’just’ four tracks which each occupy an entire side of vinyl on a double LP. As with Labyrinthine, these are compositions which span ten to sixteen minutes, and utilise that timeframe to maximum effect. They don’t hurry things, with slow, tapering drones interweaving, the emphasis on the atmosphere and the detail over the impact. And yet, despite this, or even perhaps because of this, the impact is strong, albeit in more subtle ways.
Their comments on the album are illuminating, explaining that ‘Thematically, cut explores trauma and physio-/psychological stress, as well as possible tools and means of overcoming these stressors, of which the music itself (sonic sublimation) might be one… Musically, while Nadja retains their signature wall-of-noise doomgaze sound, they also explore quieter, more introspective moments as well as new/different instrumentation, with harp, French horn, and saxophone featuring for the first time on one of the band’s recordings’.
‘It’s Cold When You Cut Me’ is stark, bleak, minimal. The air feels dead, it’s suffocating. The sparse percussion rattles along, but the drones are glacial. Five minutes in, rumbling bass and heavy beats roll in, and by the mid-point there are crushing waves of lugubrious noise worthy of Swans, but overlaid with trilling brass and woodwind, jazz in slow-mo, the honk of migrating birds and trilling abstraction.
But this is just a gentle introduction ahead of the thunderous grind of ‘Dark, No Knowledge’, which begins with atmospheric whirlings and even hints of Eastern esotericism, voices rising in the distance, atop wisps and rumbles, echoes and murmurings, before the dense, sludgy, post everything doom drone cascades in like a mudslide. It’s low and it’s slow, crawling like larva. buzzes and rumbles sustain for an eternity. You can actually feel your stomach drop in response to the bass frequencies.
The sound seems to get thicker and murkier as the album progresses, and if ‘She Ate His Dreams From the Inside & Spat Out The Frozen Fucking Bones’ isn’t nearly as abrasive as the title may suggest, its slow repetitious form is truly hypnotic as it trudges its way along.it possesses a rare density which matches its delicacy, and comparisons to latter-day Swans stand in terms of positioning the piece. There are thick, distorted tones grinding like earthworks through the airier overtones, and the contrast brings something magical and soothing. Then ‘Omenformation’ crashes in like a tsunami. The volume leaps, the density leaps, and you find yourself blown away by a sonic force strong enough to knock the air out of your lungs. The dingy, booming bass alone is enough to send you to the ground. The drums are immense. In fact, everything about this is almost inarticulable, as Nadja scale up the sound to beyond that of mere mortal beings. This is music with a physical force and a power beyond words, beyond contrivance. It’s archaic, occult, primal in its power. This is a track which treads through a series of movements, the last of which is crushing in its weight.
It’s true that cut possesses all of the sounds which are recognisable as being concomitant with Nadja’s distinctive dense, doomgaze stylings, and a lot of the vocals are as much additional layers rather than clearly enunciated words, and as such, add further depth – and a certain human aspect to the overall sound. The result is a work which speaks to that level of the psyche beyond words, which conveys trauma and physio-/psychological stress, and which offers a degree of relief through an experience which is wholly immersive and immensely powerful.
AA
Photo: Hugues de Castillo
Aural Aggravation 
Watch: ‘Murder White Noise’ by Sword Tongue
Posted: 29 October 2025 in Recommended Streams and Videos, Singles and EPsTags: alt rock, Anxiety, commentary, Murder White Noise, Single, Stream, stress, Sword Tongue, true crime, Video
Oakland alt-rock trio Sword Tongue presents ‘Murder White Noise’, a wry commentary on the state of the world and our attempts to soothe ourselves to get through it. The latest offering from their explosive Bonfire In The Tempest EP – their fourth to date.
In an increasingly stressful world, this song explores how people try to externalize their anxieties by consuming content that allows them to feel better about their own lives. We attempt to cope with the pressure of maintaining equilibrium by coming together to grieve, worry, and comfort each other, often finding that the only way to feel good about our lives is to reflect on others’ misfortunes.
Creating dark music for dark times, Sword Tongue is vocalist Jennifer Wilde and guitarist Gaetano Maleki, a husband and wife who launched this project in the pandemic year of 2020, now joined by renowned drummer-producer Dan Milligan.
“I started consuming true crime content as a way to turn off the thoughts that kept me awake at night and distracted me during the day. One day I told a friend I was a listening to a livestreamed trial where a lady put her husband on a burn pile. She said “WHOAH, what is that, murder white noise?” As I told people about the song, I found many others watch crime stories as a release from their stressful lives. It is important to bring that into the conversation about how we are coping today,” says Jennifer Wilde.
“Finding comfort in tragedy is new for me; during the pandemic and especially in the last year I find myself needing to look for reassurance that whatever I am facing is not as bad as it could be. ‘Murder White Noise’ was written as a way to come to grips that someone else’s pain is that content, and what that says about where we are as a society right now. Gaetano wrote the perfect guitar line that hooks you in to get to the truth of the song.”
On ‘Murder White Noise’, soothing vocals contrast with the song’s macabre lyrical content, while steadily thrumming instrumentation lulls you into a false sense of security. For a moment, the listener feels heard and encouraged, then questions their own motivations, left to wonder whether they are now the tragic victim in this story.
”From a songwriting perspective, this pulled a lot of anxiety out of me,” says Gaetano Maleki. “While writing the guitar and bass lines, I wanted to bring out tension to mirror the vocals, but with some kind of seductive undertones. I feel the instruments really complement the lyrics, like a hard boiled soundtrack.”
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