By Brian Turk
By Drew AIles
By Taylor Boylston
By Bree Davies
By Emerald O'Brien
By Gina Tron
By Jon Solomon
If last year's self-titled debut was an expression of the act's ego, then its sophomore effort gives voice to its id. Whereas the first record was all about restraint, the latest is all about release. There's still a mysterious and cinematic quality to the music, but now it's complemented by an elegant urgency that makes Denali the ideal soundtrack for a future David Lynch/Quentin Tarantino collaboration. In place of icy reserve and sublimated emotion, The Instinct exudes a rawness and immediacy that fans are sure to recognize from their intense live shows. Maura Davis's transcendent, classically trained voice -- still the centerpiece of the group's sound -- rises from a whisper to a scream with passion and grace, while DiNunzio's guitars riff, wail and chime. In the hands of Maura's brother, Keeley, the bass pounds against the woofers insistently as Jonathan Fuller's drums deftly explore the entire dynamic range.
With the new directness of the music comes a sense that the writing process was more collaborative. No longer providing a mere backdrop for Maura's musings, the elder Davis, Di-Nunzio and Fuller now add conspicuous and unique contributions to Denali's gestalt. Given the fully formed sound and approach documented on the first disc, fans may have worried that the band had nowhere to go, but Instinct -- a notable step forward that cements the originality and inimitability of the act's sound -- puts any one-trick-pony fears to rest. All of the Portishead comparisons that dogged the bandmembers after the release of that first record will fall by the wayside as they make a name for themselves as a true original.
"Maura wanted to make a more rockin' record this time," DiNunzio says. "She made an effort to make more immediate songs, and we sensed that and kind of changed spaces." He means this in both a figurative and literal sense: "We got kicked out of one practice space and moved to another. This helped stir the blood, but everybody was reacting to Maura."
DiNunzio's statement could just as easily apply to the band's genesis. When Keeley Davis, frontman for Richmond scene stalwarts Engine Down, heard the songs his younger sister, Maura, was beginning to write, he wanted to become a part of the unique beauty and power she had tapped into. Jonathan Fuller, Engine Down's drummer and a longtime friend of the Davis family, quickly got involved, and the threesome recruited DiNunzio -- a seasoned veteran of the Richmond scene whose credits include time with Lazycain, Four Walls Falling (one of Jade Tree's first signings) and River City High -- to flesh out the new band's ideas. As the quartet began to develop a cohesive sound, everybody, even then, reacted to Maura.
Driven by her muse, most songs still take shape following a pattern that has become comfortable and successful for the group: Maura writes her elements all at once, coming up with basic guitar and piano parts, lyrics and vocal melodies in a single creative burst; she brings those song ideas to her bandmates, who either dissect or build upon what she has created; and then collectively, they spend a good deal of time woodshedding before they even demo the songs. With The Instinct, the players demoed and sequenced all of the songs on their own, just to make sure they had charted their course before going into the studio with Peter Katis (Interpol, the Get Up Kids and Mercury Rev).
DiNunzio and Keeley, both of whom have spent plenty of time as frontmen, could have had some difficulty subjugating their own rock-god egos to Maura's creative vision, but because of her captivating stage presence and stunning vocal finesse, it's been surprisingly easy for both of them.
"I realized my shortcomings a long time ago," says a typically self-deprecating DiNunzio. "I'm a much better contributor to other people's ideas than I am an originator of my own, and I don't mind taking that role." Keeley, who still has an outlet in Engine Down for his spotlight-stealing urges, is equally unfazed by taking a back seat to his sister's striking talents. The members of Denali have a great deal of trust in one another and realize that each member has his or her role to play. "In some ways," DiNunzio observes, "it's like being part of a construction crew: Everything starts to fall apart when you try to play someone else's role."