My Collection Day 4: Aerial M
I've seen Sunn O))) twice now, each time more harrowing than the last. The first time, Big Brave and Hissing opened for them. Both of these bands were terribly appropriate between Hissing's atonal death grind and Big Brave's huge, droney sound. The second time, the Multiple Gains Stages tour, Papa M opened for them.
"Papa M?" I hear you say. "David Pajo? Of Slint and Tortoise fame? Isn't his solo project folk music?"
My dear, sweet summer child, yes. Mostly. He played lit by a bare bulb solo acoustic ditties from his surprisingly prolific solo career as a folk music and rock artist. The hauntingly somber sounds inspired me. At the time, it felt like a herald to the religious experience I was about to have. David Pajo on that stage was me: a dweller on the threshold before the primordial sounds of Stephen O'Malley and Greg Anderson eroded me into emissions. Until then, I equated Sunn O))) with an almost Lovecraftian haunt, I didn't consider that their music could border with the pastoral. I was hooked. I dove deep into his discography, learning of his storied time on this earth between being a founder of essential post rock darlings Slint, and his tenure with Will Oldham and jazzy post rock monsters Tortoise. While I certainly enjoyed Papa M, even his solo acoustic Misfits cover album Scream With Me as simply Pajo, David Pajo quickly became one of my favorite musicians after this chance encounter playing before Sunn O))).
Then I found Aerial M.
Drag City briskly describes them thusly.
M as in mysterious. A group of sounds recorded in Louisville KY. Smooth blue instrumental guitar music. In the musical alphabet, what comes after rock?
I appreciate this. It's so succinct I scarce feel the need to talk much more about this album! But I will because I love it so.
Recorded "during the flood of 1997" in Louisville Kentucky, Aerial M certainly is rain music, but its quiet passion does not a flood soundtrack make. The sparkling reverb on opener Dazed and Awake is aquatic enough, and the next track AASS begs to be played over rain for how hypnotic its movement is and how much space sits between the gentle strumming of the introductory riffing. Aerial M is not out of place in David Pajo's myriad discography for its mood or sound, but for the way songs like Wedding Song No. 2 play out like waltzes, the whole album feels cohesive in a classical way. Even photos of the Aerial M band in and out of the studio see the band looking at David as if he's composing, and he is.
The warm wooden tones of his guitars as the chords drift down like autumn leaves is absolutely heart wrenching. Pajo's rustic, melancholy croon would be perfect here if there were any room! The interplay between everyone involved is too perfect to make overwrought with the inclusion of a defined story through lyricism. Hell, Skrag Theme's slow march is lyrical enough in its structure to play over a ballet: the wolf stalking the rabbit as the bass creeps in behind each tone shift. It's not clear to me how much of the composition process was democratic, but I have the feeling that it might be. Papa M's full band music, while of this caliber, is often much more singular in sound. How Aerial M plays is like following tree roots in comparison to Papa M's Brutalist construction.