Russian Circles Albums (3)
What The Critics Say
The relationship between the calm before the storm and the storm itself is a crucial element of post-rock. The patience and restraint to allow the music to build slowly and organically is an incredible virtue within the genre, and it's a virtue that Russian Circles have been growing into over the course of their career. On Geneva, their third full-length outing, we find a band that has matured as songwriters. With a larger, more atmospheric set of tools at their disposal, the band crafts songs that are more about buildup than release. Instead of down the usual "build, build, build, destroy" route that's so common, the songs grow organically, with changes unfolding so naturally that the big finish is more of a logical conclusion than an explosion. Brian Cook's (of Botch and These Arms Are Snakes) impact on this record is more apparent than it was on Station. His gritty, fuzzed-out bass provides a dynamic contrast to the lighter moments, providing a bit of sonic dirt for the more ethereal guitar parts to play in. This influence might also have something to do with Russian Circles' further tempering of their metal tendencies. While Geneva has its heavier moments (like "Fathom" and "Geneva"), they're not as out-and-out metal as their past work, more reminiscent of Pelican's later work or the sludgy harmony of Zozobra. Given their past work, it would be easy for Russian Circles to simply play it quiet for a while and then absolutely bowl over the listener with huge, metal riffing. As the record goes on, that patience and restraint starts to reveal itself more and more. On the sprawling, eight-minute epic, "When the Mountain Comes to Muhammad," the band allows the song to build slowly and easily, reigning the song in and allowing it to fold in on itself, growing slightly larger and larger without ever getting completely out of control. Geneva is an album that builds like an old building being demolished, starting out with an explosion and ending with the dust clearing to reveal a changed landscape that's ready for something new, as if the band is symbolically clearing away their old sound in favor of something new and exciting. If you weren't already on the Russian Circles bandwagon, this is the perfect opportunity to jump on. ~ Gregory Heaney, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
For those who celebrated the intricate heaviness of Russian Circles' debut album, Enter, or better yet saw them devastate live audiences with the sheer metallic roar of it all, Station may seem a little underwhelming -- at first. Brian Cook of Botch/These Arms Are Snakes has replaced bassist Colin DeKuiper (on record at least). That said, one should expect a wall of sonic attack that would make the gods cower, right? Not exactly. Texture and dimension have become a big part of Russian Circles sound on this six- track album. They've tried to get themselves out of the post-rock "build up and up and up and finally explode" equation that has actually hampered the growth of the music. They haven't left metal behind, but have tempered it somewhat with some softer sounds, a more gradual expansion, and layered textures on any given theme, or some set thereof. About half the album relies on this technique, and admittedly, it can be a bit frustrating on first listen because there are so many parts folded into one another it simply isn't as obvious as Enter was. Mike Sullivan's guitar playing relies as much on fingerpicked swells that shimmer and refract as it does power chugging riffs. Dave Turncrantz's drums won't announce the shifts and twists and turns, either. He jumps in with the rest of the band, playing to the sense of drama and tension that get spread beautifully over the dimensions of space and power, framed perfectly by producer-engineer Matt Bayles. "Harper Lewis" takes the ominous heaviness that Russian Circles are known for, pours paranoid ambient sonics around the drum kit, and allows Cook to let that low end bass just throb wide open, until Sullivan just crushes the entire thing with his wall of squall stun riffing. It takes a little while to develop, but the payload is big. This is also true to a greater degree on the title track. Back and forth guitar and bass thrumming becomes a push and pull between the two players until only the thudding drum fills can breach the gap. It becomes almost unbearably tense even as the tonal and time signatures shift. The same kind of metal effect takes place in "Youngblood." Think of the menacing guitar intros of vintage Iron Maiden or Judas Priest paired with the sense of distortion, detuned feedback, and the noir transcendence of Isis or Pelican. The softer tunes, such as "Verses" and "Xavi," are really compelling puzzle pieces loaded with tricky corners, intricate spaces, and floating guitar and bass parts that open the door of power rock infinity but stop at the threshold. The bottom line is that this diversity is not a lack of focus, but growth and development that make the band stand out from the pack, making the effort to spin this a few times yield very big rewards. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Russian Circles are a heavy rock instrumental trio from Chicago, and Enter is their debut long-player. Comparisons to Pelican and Isis have been tiresome at best -- and inaccurate at worst -- as RC differ in key ways. The construction of their tunes is more intricate, not reliant as much on the heavy riff and the elegant phrase -- though it's not quite as delicate as Explosions in the Sky or Growing, either. On the opener, "Carpe," it's easy to hear that there's a lot happening. Guitarist Mike Sullivan and bassist Colin DeKuiper engage in musical counterpoint, which is not knotty math rock, either -- dynamic ranges are not built as much as employed in each section of the tune. Repetition between three-note vamps is present, but only as a grounding point. Drummer Dave Turncrantz has both great responsibility and great freedom. The tune crunches, folds back on itself, and then comes out on the other side with an entirely new musical statement to make, carrying just a hint of its origin. What's amazing is that this happens in each of this platter's six longish tracks. The placement and arrangement of the drama and flow within dynamic ranges make these tunes feel like songs, complete with bridges, crescendos, and intros and outros. "Micah" is another example. The cut begins to build on its fairly simple melodic fragment quite quickly, and then, as the three high strings are meandered upon by Sullivan, he tosses in a set of lines that are more intricate and winding, as DeKuiper moves him toward something else, something foreshadowed but not articulated, almost departing the rhythm section. Turncrantz's drums hint at what's coming: the cut explodes into raucous glorious heaviness and just as quickly eases back from the sonic abyss. This is not some kind of Godspeed You Black Emperor! trip. This also doesn't mean that Russian Circles are incapable of roaring into metallic frenzies (check out "Death Rides a Horse"); they most certainly are, complete with knotty stop-and-start-on-a-dime pyrotechnics. While there isn't a weak cut here, and each becomes part of some musical journey into tight, constructed yet somehow sprawling rock, there is vulnerability amid the heaviness and noise. It's like a form of instrumental poetry, woven, articulated slowly and deliberately, and all designed to take you "there," wherever your particular "there" is. The buzz on this band in Chicago has been big and it's easy to see why. Enter is a very impressive debut. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
