Josef Saint speaks about loss, trauma, friends and fallen comrades, and the outsider nature of art, industrial music, and the Baltimore scene that Nahja Mora has made its home.
An InterView with Josef Saint of Nahja Mora
By Ilker Yücel (Ilker81x)
Nahja Mora has been one of the more esoterically experimental entities in the Baltimore underground music scene, pursuing a classically avant-garde industrial mentality that has evolved into something entirely “other.” The group’s latest effort, AHFHAOTA began as far back as 2005 when Josef Saint first founded Nahja Mora, the material proving as emotionally taxing as its subject matter of coping with trauma. Since then, the band has achieved much, and with the world in a state of turmoil and coping with its own mass trauma, along with a wave of personal loss and self-realization, Saint dusted off the material to present a more refined and sophisticated concept album than had originally been intended more than 16 years prior. Never at a loss for words, Saint spoke with ReGen Magazine recently not only about the arduous gestation of AHFHAOTA and the circumstances that led to the album’s shelving and eventual resurrection, but also touches on the creative dynamic between himself and his band mates, his departed friend and musical associate Hobart Blankenburg, the nature of outsider art and industrial music, the Baltimore music scene, and the social and political milieu that guides the Western world.
You’ve stated that AHFHAOTA is a concept album that you started in 2005 dealing with your personal struggles, and the larger issues of how people communicate while coping with emotional and mental trauma.
At the risk of asking too personal a question, are there any specific experiences that you’d feel comfortable relating to us that helped shape your outlook and the viewpoints you’re presenting on the album?
Saint: An effort has been made in Nahja Mora to illustrate communication as a root of and solution to conflict since the get-go.
What led you to put the album off for 16 years?
Saint: As a debut in 2016, it would have been unwieldy. In 2005, it existed as tone poems, 12-tone systems, FujiCam recorded piano performances, and aleatoric compositions on a 286 – whatever sound of a center being lost and spinning out I could make. AHFHAOTA was meant to connect to Actualiser in production, at least as a prequel to it, but in reality, it is a summation of things that happened in the past that indicated the present and color the outlook for the future. After Final Realization…, AHFHAOTA became our production objective. It was developed from a grouping of tracks and through discussions and unpacking of the story with Jenny, Jeff, and Shawn.
I think we needed the oomph of lyrics coached by sleep deprivation and guitars recorded in the freezing cold, and the isolation and disease and trauma of 2020-2021. During production, excluding the revisit upon ‘Give Way to Shadow’ and the archived vocal on ‘ONE DAY,’ I limited myself to two improvised vocal tracks on each song. There were no lyrics written until after I transcribed them. The energy needed to be there absolutely.
In what ways do you feel the long wait helped you process some of those experiences that you could actually approach the album again?
Saint: Being able to name what happened to me and then reflect on times when I have been singled out due to my appearance and abused publicly allowed me to figure out what the hell was I trying to communicate in 2005 when I came up with the greater concept of AHFHAOTA, and its relation to predators surrounding prey and the way self-destruction can make marks for predators.
We lost Hobart Blankenburg (also of Precision Field) in 2020, with the album being dedicated to him, along with the cover of PJ Harvey’s ‘The Devil.’ Again, at the risk of asking something personal, tell us about your friendship and your working association with him – what was the dynamic like between the two of you, how you worked out ideas and wrote songs, etc.
Saint: Hobart was my music partner of 17 years. We demoed songs for each other and gave feedback to each other. We invited one another to jam on things we were developing. Hobart was and is my brother. We attempted to be honest with one another always and miraculously, we were genuinely into one another’s work. I miss him every fucking day. Hobart was a goofy, caring, fun-loving guy. He was the partyman. He was a gardener, a father, a mentor. He professionally was a counselor, and you know, he was professionally also a composer and songwriter of extreme skill. He made an amazing work as his last. Hobart and I didn’t really, like, work in a band situation where we jam and come up with a riff over a beat and write it down. Hobart started his pieces individually and so did I. We then would talk to one another about what the track’s intent was; this then indicated what instrument we would play and what message we would try to take part in with our musical language if we invited one another to play on particular songs anyway. Hobart, of course, was not on every Nahja Mora track and I was not on every Precision Field track. In fact, nobody but me was on Final Realization… and I wasn’t on Love & Debauchery at all. I pushed him to do the design himself because I was stuck in this dumb make people grow thing. But I dig the artwork; I don’t dig his absence. His wife Sara painted the cover.
Hobart and I had an ability to jam together in a really interesting way because we had played together for so long and since the get-go understood each other’s musical language. There are tons of recorded jams.
Over the years, you’ve had various collaborators and band members, with Jenny Rae Mettee (of Fun Never Starts) being the most consistent aside from Hobart. Tell us about your working dynamic and how it has evolved over the years; how much would you say her contributions have affected the sound of Nahja Mora – both in helping you realizing your vision, and perhaps in veering it in directions you wouldn’t have thought of?
Saint: Nahja Mora makes friends well with others and we work with and remain akin to friends who share earnest and expressionist spirit. This can be described as a brand or a band or a collective or group in which I am the musical director and composer. Jenny and Hobart each have/had developed their sound on their own and with me and we have matured into who we each are together. Furthermore, each of us is a musical director of our own brand or band or collective or group, etc. I am currently a live player for Fun Never Starts – this is a music scene, after all.
Also on the album are longtime associates like Lilith Astaroth, Jeff Byers, and Shawn Brice… similarly, tell us about their contributions and how you feel their presence helps to elevate your vision for Nahja Mora.
Saint: Nahja Mora makes friends well with others, to again repeat an adage of an old friend who is expected to collaborate in future, but the adage twisted. Music is a language; all is a language, and some speak the same language or expand the vocabulary to make for even more complex statements. Musicians each come from their own history and sculpting of their world view inherent in the sounds they emote. Thus, the harmony envisioned is recorded and produced.
In June, you put out covers of Michael Jackson’s ‘Whyuwannatriponme?’ and Propagandhi’s ‘The Only Good Fascist Is a Very Dead Fascist’ as a standalone singles.
A quote from Orson Welles (1981, Filming The Trial), “Every work of art is a political statement. When you deliberately make it, you usually fall into the trap of rhetoric and the trap of speaking to a convinced audience, rather than convincing an audience. I don’t think it is the duty of every artist to change the world; he is doing it by being an artist. That just automatically goes with it…”
Of course, underground scenes like punk and industrial have a long tradition of addressing politics and the contemporary sociopolitical climate, so I wanted to ask you about your thoughts about this on a philosophical level.
Saint: I personally know that no one can adequately predict the impact of a piece of any art on the world or on a subjective individual’s tastes. Everything is political. Nothing is political. Turn onto politics before they turn on you. He’s sort of right about that.
Music is political because it is a part of everything and it’s political when it’s a part of nothing. But cheesiness is something else. I should hope that neither of those covers are cheesy; the honest truth is both were reactionary to things happening in my world. I made the MJ cover over the course of a night while hallucinating, for real. The Propagandhi cover was because… fuck Nazis, fuck white supremacists, Nazi punks fuck off.
But back to Welles and the idea of speaking to the audience you’ve already secured. Nahja Mora’s audience is unspecific and growing and I couldn’t be happier with that. Bandcamp for one does allow artists to view the albums purchased by their fans. It can be very interesting. Nahja Mora unfortunately gets lumped quickly into one sort of thing in one sort of scene over a few singles with particular beats, though on the same albums are acoustic guitars with accordions. We don’t really have a particular sort of people who listen to Nahja Mora. We have previously spoken in our own opinion rather blatantly on certain political processes leading to apocalyptic disasters, or warnings of environmental reclamation/retaliation, or domestic abuse, or whatever suffering typically reserved for the bleeding heart. The key message is we have to take care of one another. Is that political? Maybe. Is it social? Sure. It is just the songs and messages and stories I choose to write and frame in the way that we do. I wonder what Welles would think of the media institutions that exist today and I wonder then if he would still back this statement that he made in 1981.
I long for the lost voice of music culture. Live Aid. The Tibetan Freedom Concerts. The early years of Lollapalooza. The world before the conglomeration of media. Gangsta Rap. MTV News. We did once have a vocal youth sociopolitical entity, but in the end, it became the biggest conglomerate of all undermining each and every one of us. Even Prince was upset and named them on a record. Where did it go? Well, I discovered some of this scene through MP3.com. The RIAA attacked that, destroyed it, though it was mostly if not entirely independent artists. One thing led to another to ultimately a situation where artists are paid nothing for their work and instead, listeners are charged monthly for limitless listening of everything while their spent monies are invested instead in artificially intelligent warfare. Realizing the dire stakes of the current world can be easily experienced after viewing demo/marketing videos of artificially intelligent autonomous tanks working as a wolf pack.
The major labels of yesteryear committed their artists’ catalogs to even worse fates with a yet darker view by trading off royalty payments to artists for equity instead in these Silicon Valley exploiters. I’m not sure that that quote keeps up with the times and the sorts of things that the artists of this day must compete with and work with and work against. The underprivileged and the caring are always the ones to be the most political in their art because they want to make a stink about issues that affect them. What is art if not expression of the self.
Really, we are weighing pop music, for lack of a better term, against Welles’ statement. On second thought, I don’t think these ideas are compatible. Recorded music is somewhat of a propaganda piece and a live show with the energy that we’d call a show is not so much different from a political rally or a preacher consumed with their wanted spirit performing for their flock. That’s why we talk about building a following, even in digital social worlds, no? So, is this art in the higher sense, or is it something entirely new – the cult of personality?
Or where does Welles’ definition of the world lie? Is he talking about what I call the Earth or what each person has: a worldview? If so, yeah sure, every artistic work changes the world by changing the worldview of its author. As for rhetoric… this is art and it’s closer to propaganda really than anything else. We’ve got to be frank somewhere!
We’ve been enduring the pandemic for more than two years now, and while live shows are back, we have vaccinations and boosts, history has shown that it’ll be quite some time before we no longer have to worry about it. As a musician/artist/sound-maker (however you want to describe it), what do you feel that artists, labels, venues, the industry as a whole should take away from the situation?
Saint: We lived in a false reality that a band is not made until it has toured while sun-era COIL and :Wumpscut: stared us all in the face sipping their tea. Perhaps the bigger thing to realize is the future is already here and if a band exists on the internet, it is no longer local – there are no such things as local recording artists; we exist in a global world. Deal with it. Making hierarchies is stupid and unbecoming, is it not? Isn’t this all supposed to be a reaction against what the industry is telling you to do?
Are there any plans for Nahja Mora to perform live again sometime soon? And if so, in what ways do you feel you’d be adjusting your approach to playing live – either on a performance, technical, or business level?
Saint: We intend upon releasing video. Anytime a recorded work is reperformed, it is adjusted in some way to be played live, whether by players or by tape. You cannot escape that fact, no one can. Plans? I am an agent of chaos, at least in present. There are too many factors at this very moment that must be ironed out, but the end goal is a tour. I like theatre and video and lights and thinking of things made into new things. I like to be falling down the steps. That is the goal of a live event: falling down the steps. I have so much again to release as well.
Nahja Mora, Precision Field, Fun Never Starts, Stoneburner… all representatives of the Baltimore industrial music scene. Every city seems to foster its own particular styles and talents, so what can you say about Baltimore and how the city itself has shaped your musical outlook – both in terms of defining your listening tastes and how you approach making music yourself?
Saint: Baltimore is an industrial city where one can clearly see addiction, racial divide, gentrification, industrial ruin, economic divide, and environmental pollution; decades of corruption, centuries of racist policing. The music we all make and made is a product of seeing the shit so many are talking about up close and personal. Also, it’s just awesome. There’s a small shed structure in north Baltimore with ‘MERZBOW’ written across its roof in stark lettering. We have a museum of industry; we have a museum for outsider artists. The reps of our scene in Baltimore should include Curse and Hex Me. And you know, Matmos, Jeff Carey, and Worms of the Earth moved here not too long ago, no? Constants is a pretty cool producer too. Locrian is based here. As for me, myself, and my socialization… dude, I went to private catholic school forever, and have always been a weirdo. Does Baltimore just make weirdos? If so, why am I weirdo? If everyone here is a weirdo, there shouldn’t be any weirdos at all! Baltimore makes experimental music, and listen jerks, industrial music is experimental music!
Outside of music, what are you enjoying most right now? Watching movies? Reading? Clubbing? Hiking? Anything at all… what is giving you the most joy?
Saint: I enjoy history and sociology. I watch films regularly. I haven’t hiked for a while, but I miss it. I am enjoying archive.org. I enjoy tracking down the works of Monte Cazazza. I enjoy sending and receiving e-mails. I paint and make things for fun, soon for profit. I design graphics. My wife and I take care of our cats, dogs, tarantula, rats, horse; I am the rabbit king by choice of the wild rabbits in my neighborhood – they approach and hang with me. I work on my ability to communicate with crows. I work on my ability to communicate with… everyone.
I enjoy cybernetic thinking. I enjoy learning policing techniques defensively, body arts, and having social relationships with insects and arachnids. I like making things. I adore talking to strangers.
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Live Photography by Ken Mars and Umbris Dei, provided courtesy of Nahja Mora