DA – DA
DA – DA
Self-Released
Release Date: 10/04/26
Review by Jon Deaux
7.5/10 – Strong bones
Let me be honest with you, I arrived on the scene on a moke of cynicism, boots scuffed and dirty with the detritus of a thousand debut records that promised the world and delivered a Spotify playlist with half-decent guitar tone. I had my notebook, I had my coffee, and I had my gut instinct that DA – a band with a name that sounds less like a band and more like the defence of a charge of… well, I’m not sure what, but it sounds like nothing good – were about to blow forty minutes of my life and two of my very best pencils.
DA are a band formed in 2021, which means that the last four years of their lives have been spent in some dingy practice room in the Home Counties, stewing this record into something truly menacing, and I have a bit of a grudge against them, like the beautiful stranger in the bar that has been there all night, looking at all the other people in the bar, looking at you, but not really looking at you until you stand up and make to leave, and then suddenly finds the time to look over and smile. Well, too late. Oh wait, no it isn’t. Not with this lot.
The four-piece from the environs of Surrey – Robin Brancher (guitar – ex-Desolation Angels – and that name alone should command respect in this neck of the woods), Matt Oakman (vocals – direct descendant of a volcano and therefore imbued with the fiery passion of the gods), Neil Craddock (bass – servant of God and therefore imbued with the righteousness of the divine), and Dan Smith (drums – using what can only be termed righteous anger in the service of the music) – have produced a debut album that has the quite wonderful and rare gift of meaning it. All of it. Every note. Every chorus. Genuinely. Irritatingly. Thrillingly.
The influences are not subtle. They are not trying to be. You want Judas Priest in your life? Well, you’ve come to the right place. You want Led Zeppelin – the ambition, the scope, the feeling that a riff is not only a melodic device but also a moral imperative? Well, you’ve come to the right place. You want Black Sabbath – the wallowing gorgeous dread, the feeling that the world is a very, very bad place and we might as well all go home, have a cup of tea and lie down on the couch while we think about it some more? It’s all of those things and more, and it’s building a spa in the wallow for crying out loud. Here’s the bit where I nearly dropped my notebook in surprise… DA don’t look like a tribute band, like a band that has spent its time poring over the tour jackets of its heroes and thought, “You know what, we’ll just wear those ourselves, thanks very much.” They look like a band that has spent its time eating the records of its heroes, digesting them, and then emerging on the other side with something new and interesting growing in the gut.
So, what have DA done, then? They’ve made a heavy Rock album, an album with the structural confidence of a band twice their age, an album with the hunger of a band that’s spent the last four years locked in a room and is ready, now, to come out and tear the wall down to get out of the prison that is the recording studio. They’re wearing the influence of Judas Priest, of Led Zeppelin, of Black Sabbath like a good coat, not like a costume, like a… a… a coat, for crying out loud, and the reason for this is that the coat fits, and the reason for that is that the band have earned the right to wear the coat.
‘Rock It’ is not a subtle song, nor is it a subtle title, but by the time you finish reading this, I’ll be singing the bloody thing in the shower until May, possibly June, conceivably until the day I die, and I have made my peace with this fact.
‘Angles’ is the quiet curveball, the bit where the band eases off the throttle a bit to allow Craddock’s bass to do something that might, might, MIGHT be called a melody.
‘Spiralling Nowhere’ is the emotional heart of the album, the bit where the band knows it’s going nowhere, but is so happy to be going nowhere that it might as well be going somewhere.
The final track is ‘You Gotta Believe It,’ and that is the final victory or the final victory or the final challenge. Or should I say, the final victory and the final challenge, as those are, of course, the same thing. By the time you get to the tenth track on this thing, you’re not only believing it, but you’ve probably been believing it since the third track, and you might have even been swaying to the lyrics since ‘Snake.’
Of course, there is another review that I could have done instead of this one. I could have talked about the influences, how they’re not particularly groundbreaking, and how I’d deduct points for not taking it all very seriously. I could have done that review, but then I listened to ‘Pillars of Death’ again, and that review went out the window. Some records don’t necessarily have to be particularly groundbreaking. Some records don’t necessarily have to reinvent the wheel. Some records have to drive the wheel like there’s something to prove, and DA has something to prove, and they are, at large volume, proving it.
TRACKLISTING:
01. Daisy Chains
02. Higher
03. Snake
04. Pillars of Death
05. Rock It
06. Angles
07. Forever Enslaved
08. Spiralling Nowhere
09. The Devils on My Side
10. You Gotta Believe It.
LINKS:
Disclaimer: This review is solely the property of Jon Deaux and Ever Metal. It is strictly forbidden to copy any part of this review, unless you have the strict permission of both parties. Failure to adhere to this will be treated as plagiarism and will be reported to the relevant authorities.
