Diagonal – Arc

Cobblers
Diagonal don’t trend to release albums in a rush, this being their third since 2008; but once they are in the studio, the ideas come pouring out. It has been seven years since The Second Mechanism and since that time, two original members, Alex Crispin and Daniel Pomlett have returned to the fold, the band once again becoming a six-piece. In the past few years, life has prevented them from finding time for the studio, but once the stars aligned, they decided to throw caution to the wind and give themselves one week to write and record an album, and what a remarkable result Arc is.

The band has no problem being aligned with prog, and they are happy to accept this given that theirs is a music that is full of discovery, yet is happy to nurture the art of the solo — but only if it is absolutely suited and only if the rest of then players can support it suitably. Also, the poetic embrace of things mysterious and otherworldly in the lyrics points to a group who are striving for something outside of this realm; an eye on the horizon and as night falls, far beyond that. Previously, Diagonal were intent on playing and playing as they attempted to nail the technicalities that the tracks required; but on Arc they are happier to let things unfold naturally, allowing influences of all sorts to infiltrate the sound, leaving vaguely familiar traces in the ongoing ascent of the album’s progress.

There is a reminder of early 1980s Talking Heads funk rhythm to opener “9-Green” and the vocals have a David Byrne-esque quality to them, with an added sweetness; but with lyrics like “I fall into an endless shining halo”, their eyes are clearly on outer space. The keyboards seem out of place somehow and they are not afraid to hold things up, nor to throw textural stuttering guitar and swaying electric organ around the long sinuous guitar solo that emerges halfway through. It seems to drag the song along like a conga line, quite the antithesis to the folk-influenced “Stars Below” that follows.

The vocals are resonant and light here, the drums full of scuffed snares and dreamlike shimmers. An alto sax is the light arriving through the canopy and the addition of twelve-string from guitarist David Wileman can’t help but lend that pastoral feel. It feels like an awakening of sorts and has a touch of that village green sound that the Kingsbury Manx did so well. There is a reminder of them again with the harmonies on “Citadel”, but the track is propelled by a gorgeous, hypnotic one-note organ which rets on the sixteenth beat, allowing that extra sense of propulsion as it starts again. It is so simple yet so effective, and as it descends into melancholy, it feels like waking in an unknown world. The solos are squashy and as the bass adds propulsion, and their affinity to motorik rhythms starts to appear.

There is a touch of jazz in the band’s sound, but it is mainly with their willingness to allow expression from each of the players as they stretch their virtuoso legs. A guitar subtly unwinds on “The Spectrum Explodes”, while it is the saxophone’s turn on the drifting ambience of “The Vital”. Here, the drums are removed and the piece moves weightless, only just about tethered by the sweet sax, gently moulding the thin air. There are a great breadth of styles apparent here from the math-rock of “Arc” to the lighter edges of metal on “Vital”, through to the electronica-tinged ascending glory of “Celestia”, where “Time is millions of moments and I have run clear”, the perfect encapsulation of what the group have attempted to accomplish.

Judging by the strength of Arc, Diagonal have been more than successful, but it will be interesting to see if they just turn around and don’t look back for another seven years — or whether this fills them with a desire to go further next time around.

-Mr Olivetti-