Review & Full Album Premiere: Di’Aul, Nobody’s Heaven
[Click play above to stream Di’Aul’s Nobody’s Heaven in its entirety. Album is out May 4 via Argonauta Records.]
I’ll admit to being somewhat puzzled by the title Milano sludge-rocking four-piece Di’Aul — to be pronounced like “the owl” and not like “dial,” reportedly — have given to their five-track Argonauta Records sophomore long-player. Is it Nobody’s Heaven, like a heaven that doesn’t belong to anyone, or Nobody’s Heaven, like there isn’t a single person who represents the idea of paradise? The lyrics of the 7:45 opening title-track, delivered as they are in gruff but still melodic gutturalisms by vocalist MoMo Cinieri, aren’t much help when they’re discernible. I guess there’s something to keeping the idea vague — though I’ll allow that with the benefit of a full lyric sheet it might not be a mystery at all — and open to interpretation when it comes to engaging the listener, but Di’Aul could hardly be expected to have much trouble in that regard anyway, particularly among the mud-covered sludge converted whose lives have been incomplete since Australia’s Beastwars called it a day.
Di’Aul don’t proffer quite the same kind of tonal dominance from guitarist Lele Mella or bassist Jeremy Toma (also vocals), but the stomp in Diego Bertoni‘s drums on a cut like moody centerpiece “Garden of Exile” or the faster “Low Est,” which follows, seems to stem from a similar post-Crowbarian root. With how comfortable the band are playing slow, and how nestled into a nod they get, a moment like “Low Est” is something of a surprise, but there isn’t really a point on the album wherein Di’Aul entirely depart from the sphere of heavy sludge rock. So while they range a bit, they’re still well within genre parameters.
The crucial element here is lurch. The five songs that comprise Nobody’s Heaven — “Nobody’s Heaven,” “Black Death,” “Garden of Exile,” “Low Est,” and “Mother Witch” — rely largely on slow grooves to get their sonic point across, and that becomes a bit part of the identity of the album. They start of quietly enough with the intro to “Nobody’s Heaven,” but about 90 seconds in build to a huge-sounding scream and crash, and from there, trade back and forth tensely between quiet minimalist guitar strumming/vocals, and full-tone kick-in-the-teeth riffing and rolling. Their basic starting point is definitely metal, and that’s so it’s all the easier to point to a band like Crowbar as a pivotal influence for the teeth-gritting “Black Death,” which still carries a melody in its chorus in a way that’s immediately familiar, but there are shades of more bouncing riffage in the subsequent “Garden of Exile” despite the consistency of brooding.
That subtle difference in methodology goes a long way in not only holding the forward momentum Di’Aul have thus far worked to craft, but broadening the overarching sonic context of the release. Again, they remain aggressive, and Mella‘s guitar still finds room for plenty of the chug that seems to permeate every song in one way or another, but the swinging bridge that starts at about four minutes in would’ve seem strange tucked into the opener, and it shows command on the part of the group as a unit that by the time they get there and head toward the slowdown and solo that leads back to the verse/chorus to finish out — because songwriting! — it’s well within their reach. That makes the transition into the uptempo push of “Low Est” that much easier, and keeps the linear flow intact as Di’Aul lumber to the album’s finale.
I’ve likened Cinieri‘s vocals to High on Fire on “Low Est” before, and especially with the faster progression behind him, I stand by that, but if it seems like I’ve spent a lot of time here talking about his work, it’s because it stands out both in delivery and at the forefront of the album’s actual mix. As they start the rollout of closer “Mother Witch” and hit into an angular verse riff, even subdued, Cinieri is very much a presence in the material — which in the case of the last track is about as close as they come to that Beastwars comparison above. “Mother Witch” is the longest of the individual slabs on Nobody’s Heaven at just over eight minutes — it and the title-cut form a kind of bookend — and uses its extra runtime to patiently execute its verse/chorus tradeoffs, but to find room as well for noise-rock-style starts and stops late and symmetry with its whistle-topped intro and outro, the latter of which leads to the last stomps and eerie noise closing the record as a whole, which echo the underlying ambient bed beneath the guitar opening “Nobody’s Heaven.”
Of course, this underscores the notion of the bookend, and further, the cohesion that pervades the entirety of the full-length. Di’Aul made their debut in 2015 with the burl-laden Garden of Exile (note that the track of the same title didn’t appear there but appears here) and while elements have certainly carried over from one release to the next, it’s plain to hear in these five songs that the band have given due attention to atmospheric weight as well as sheer assault of volume. That works much to their benefit throughout Nobody’s Heaven and whether it’s someone or someplace, belonging to anyone or no one, the record comes across executed mindfully and aware moment by moment of its own impact. That only bodes well as Di’Aul continue to move forward.
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Tags: Argonauta Records, Di'aul, Di'aul Nobody's Heaven, Italy, Milan, Nobody's Heaven
