My World was all about establishing Karen Dió’s potential. Not her skill or even necessarily the quality of her output, but the underlying thrust to be a great artist. From that perspective, it did a reasonably stellar job. Relocating from Brazil to the UK can’t be only reason for a wider breakout than her previous band Violet Soda achieved; clearly there’s more at play. And with a clutch of simplistic yet punchy-to-a-fault punk cuts under her belt on My World, that’s no doubt it.
Fugaz is a bit different, though. It’s almost like where the ‘real’ Karen Dió is beginning to take shape, after getting on the board with a precocious but ultimately shallow debut. My World wasn’t necessarily some creative cul-de-sac, but it stood enough in that space to make Fugaz feel like a significant leap by comparison. Here’s a far more confident, resourceful Dió, on show for pretty much the entirely of the EP’s six tracks.
It’s in her performance where the most effective changes have been made, and have been stacked fairly high to do so. Chiefly, the brattiness that further limited My World’s range has totally gone now. In its place is a delivery that’s a lot more pointed and hard-edged, erring closer at times to a more effective form of riot grrrl revivalism. The best example of that is Choke, essentially a revamp of Poor Man from the previous EP with a lot more sting to it. “Immigrant” being one of the reprimands thrown at Dió immediately adds some weight and dimension that just wasn’t there before.
The touches of screams, too, are doing a fair bit of work. These are perhaps the most obvious distinction of where Dió is now, as they slip in pretty naturally in a way that tears up her natural voice rather than making a hard pivot. It’s facilitating that more brazen edge that Fugaz is all about, and really does make a difference. Especially on the closing title track, there’s a sandpaper howl towards the end that’s about the most emphatic thing that Dió has put to record yet. Even if the vocals themselves are significantly further forward than they should be, it doesn’t dampen the effectiveness.
As for the music itself, it’s where Fugaz stands its ground the most, though still not without some form of revamp to see it through. On Crawling and the title track, there are distinct slugs of grunge dropped in—a firm, steadfast bass in the former and full-on, low-down slither for the latter. There’s also Rat Race which toys with some SNAYX-esque dance-punk, a lane that Dió’s familiarity with snappiness and no-frills presentation excels in. Beyond those, Fugaz’s punk palette remains to-the-point and straightforward, but not pejoratively ‘basic’. There’s enough to the wound-up tension in Euphoria and thick, firm guitar growl of Free Yourself to feel like distinct characteristics. Outside of some phaser effects on Free Yourself (that, even then, are largely unintrusive), it’s all kept crunchy and organic, as well. It’s refreshing that Dió doesn’t marginalise the ‘proper’ punk side of her work.
All of that stands in opposition to a title that, when translated from her native Portuguese, comes to ‘fleeting’. With as much effort to push forth and rejig her sound, while remaining unwaveringly true to her vision, it’s the least fleeting that Dió has ever sounded. At the same time, there are plenty of opportunities to laid out to grow and expand further; at no point does Dió sound as though she’s fixed in place. It’s kind of cool that noticeable growth is taking place over smaller, steadier bodies of work, remaining complete in their own right but with a lot more to come.
That big kick she’s doing on the artwork? That’s going through every door standing in her way from now on.
For fans of: Die Spitz, Lambrini Girls, Panic Shack
‘Fugaz’ by Karen Dió is released on 21st August on Hopeless Records.
Words by Luke Nuttall
