Japanese power trio Dhidalah makes use of greater expanses on their new album; each side contains a side-long stare into the mouth of the volcano, and each track in turn burns away the worrisome flesh and then cools the wound with the cosmic rays of the space’s empty void. The band has studied their heavy-psych playbook, found the flay and cut fast and precise for the major arteries in any listener. They’ve spent some time honing up on space rock’s gravitational pull too. Though they understand that the eight ton hammer is effective and blistering riffs are key, they know that running the stew through a strainer of effects and sonic swirl can have a very pleasing effect on the output.
The first side is the seismic crack in the crater, a whallop of Thor’s hammer to the surface and the fallout of destruction that ripples in it’s wake. The title track, on the flip, is where they really begin to find the nuance in those cold, lonely ripples of space. The build in the first few minutes is tranquil, languid, a peaceful respite acting as somewhat of an eye in the hurricane of No Water. Then comes the second wave of destruction, heavier than the first wave, less furious, but with a much more menacing crush. The band covers a lot of ground in just two tracks, but for doom a single monolithic track has always presented an opportunity to stretch out. Dhidalah are proving here that they’re just as much a part of the dark pantheon as Earthless, Sleep or High On Fire.
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