The last time Dianogah released an album (their third), they were expanding their aesthetic palette to encompass more than the two-bass, no-six-string post-rock niche that was their modest claim to fame. The differences between 2002's Millions of Brazillians and their earlier work, however, was merely a matter of degrees. Even with the inclusion of different instruments besides bass and drums (including good old-fashioned guitar) and the contributions of some fellow Chicago scenesters (including members of Tortoise, the Coctails, and Rachel's), what sounded just fine on a song-by-song basis congealed over the course of the album into the same amorphous, thundering muddle as their previous releases. Dianogah's tracks often seemed better suited for a more traditional rock-band alignment, which did neither the songs nor the group any favors.
In that light, their newest album, qhnnnl, is a pleasant surprise. Whether the six-year hiatus was planned or simply a matter of circumstance, it's done Dianogah's songwriting a world of good. The album metes the group's more expected offerings-- like the obliquely titled [and, as all tracks here, uncapitalized] instrumental "i like juice in a shark suit" and album opener "oneone"-- with a few well-spotted curveballs. One early departure comes in the form of "a breaks b", a track that sounds like business as usual until guest vocalist Stephanie Morris steps in to duet with lead vocalist Jay Ryan, and Andrew Bird's violin adds an uplifting lilt to the chorus.
No doubt Bird's presence will be the draw for most consumers, and his contributions are certainly worth the price of admission (especially in the case of "andrew jackson", where he takes center stage). That said, the moments where Morris adds her two cents are equally integral to the album's success. Her understated vocals-- reminiscent of Stars' Amy Millan at times; see "sprinter" for proof-- add a plaintive sweetness and much-appreciated contrast to the group's bass-heavy M.O. In comparison, the helping hands of keyboardist Mark Greenberg (of Coctails fame) and guitarist Billy Smith (whose band, Hubcap, features Dianogah's Ryan on bass) aren't as readily noticeable. They both contribute whoopin' and hollerin' to barn-burner "you might go off", though, which sounds like something Peter Prescott would gladly co-opt for the next Mission of Burma record. It's not a track one would have expected from the Dianogah of years' past, but it's a definite sign that the group has more than a few tricks up its sleeve.
