Russian Circles – Empros

Post-rock has been painting itself into corners for too long now, as some acts persevere in rehashing the same delay-heavy prog instrumentalism that worked on their first two records, it's now sadly and rapidly getting old. Only the best have been canny enough to let their sound evolve and avoid the quiet/loud rut, a hallowed clan including luminaries such as our very own Mogwai, Portland shape-shifters Grails, Montreal masters of emotional cacophony Silver Mt. Zion and now, thankfully, Russian Circles.

With production once again helmed by Secret Machines mainman Brandon Curtis, fourth album Empros begins with the huge and utterly vulgar 309 which, overdubs notwithstanding, renders the fact that we're listening to a trio almost unbelievable. When that bass part kicks in, it's about as hideously brilliant as metal has been since Neurosis redrafted the blueprint. With track lengths breaking the eight-minute mark, there is hardly a sense of urgency, yet little time goes to waste, with even the labyrinthine ambient passages shrewdly judged.

As Empros continues to unfold, the initial mathy guitar and pervasive optimism of Mladek gives way to something altogether more contemplative on Schiphol, before morphing again into the despondent opening dirge of Batu. When the unnervingly pleasant Praise Be Man finally arrives to close the album, it becomes apparent just how far these six tracks have travelled. It's a journey many of Russian Circles' contemporaries would do well to study.