Darling Din is a trio that exudes a fierce poeticism. They condense their origins (apparently a tale of near-mythic proportions) into a single paragraph, defining their music as a quest “to find joy in the stillness of a single note and wreak havoc in the embrace of the jaws of lioness loneliness,” a line which echoes the sprawling lyricism of William Blake’s "Auguries of Innocence." And, similar to Blake and his poetry, Darling Din are not afraid to dive into the depths of fervor, to etch their elegant language into riotous landscapes. Their songs build to momentous peaks, their chords hinting at an impending pandemonium like rumbles of thunder warning of an approaching storm.
Their new album, Batty Fang, alludes to the chaotic nature of their sound, referencing an old bit of Victorian slang meaning to thrash, shatter, and bang into oblivion. But at the same time, their swells and swirls of riotous rock never feel abrasive, or even particularly destructive. Perhaps it’s offset by the other pillar of their style, folk, which glistens with a certain nostalgia.
The opening track, "Trash," features the three bandmates singing in tandem, their layered voices creating a reverberating effect. Their harmony is alluring, and perhaps slightly chilling, as if it were spoken in a ritual or to cast a charm. Lisa Jaeggi's lead vocals are striking, easily twisting words into fluttering sopranos, a slight warble to her timbre that, ironically, suggests a certain resilience. In the chorus, she repeats "I’m gonna make a mountain / I’m gonna make a mountain of you,” and we can almost feel the temperature drop as the skies darken overhead.
The six tracks that comprise Batty Fang feel like individual pockets of atmospheric pressure. Jaeggi's nightingale voice weaves between clashing elements to absolutely mesmerizing effect, her relatable lyrics feeling almost uncanny against such a grand backdrop. Darling Din are harbingers of delightful uproar, and from the first note you’ll find yourself reveling in their whirlwind.