With The Nile, Dalinda ventures into new ground; it's a true change of pace. Having a Bosnian father and mother and having lived in Libya before finally ending up in the UK, her music is always about crossing borders, but here it is an inward one, towards something much more personal.
Dalinda says that her mom, who doesn't speak English, cried upon listening to this track for the first time, although she doesn't know the words. That's all this music has to say about how it communicates beyond words and right through the feeling alone, which words simply cannot reach.
It was recorded again with Pete Murray and is more away from the world music roots that were present in her previous recordings and more towards something that is more of an indie vibe. All of the instruments here are played live – no samples whatsoever – and the recording is warm and honest, something that is becoming more and more uncommon in this kind of music.
The only constant is Dalinda's voice, which is tender and moving but never intrusive. The arrangement is sparse and patient; there is sufficient room around her voice and the feeling is never crowded or rushed. A sweeping bridge extends the influences of her broader musical roots, connecting this new phase to where it all started, but without ever descending into comfort food.
The beauty of The Nile is its economy. Dalinda doesn't resort to catchy phrases. Instead she lets the quiet, careful details speak to the listener's feeling system, rather than speaking to the listener's feelings. Bravery in songwriting; patience in songwriting; and a reward for patience in songwriting.
With her background of having been influenced by the late Hossam Ramzy in her debut album and chart topping performances throughout the Middle East, Dalinda has got nothing to lose. But this is one of her most fragile releases ever, a song of true love, presented entirely heart and soul.
