GOD IS AN ASTRONAUT

Standing head and shoulders above the vast majority of instrumental post-rock bands, GOD IS AN ASTRONAUT have built an impressive legacy. Whether others sometimes struggle to find new ways to forge a connection without vocals, the Irish trio have seldom repeated themselves, and "Embers" continues that tradition, albeit within certain predetermined confines. This is as cinematic and ambitious as anything the band have made over more than 20 fruitful years, and its finest moments are truly exquisite.

GOD IS AN ASTRONAUT were one of the bands most responsible for establishing latter-day post-rock formulas, and the opening "Apparition" sticks dutifully to that script, beginning with a very pretty wash of sound that steadily escalates towards an expected crescendo. It is only towards the end of the song that anything surprising happens — in this instance, a slight air of gothic menace and the digitally vexed sound of a sitar — but even at their most prosaic, GIAA exude class. "Falling Leaves" again begins in a gentle haze, before adopting a classic rock twang and mutating into a breezy rock confection, with a fine-tuned melodic chorus and big rock finish, replete with more distant sitar hum.

More adventurous is "Odyssey", which could initially be mistaken for a power metal ballad, but then eventually lets rip, transforming into a rugged, SMASHING PUMPKINS-like fuzz metal groove. Similarly episodic, "Heart of Roots" is elegant and stealthy, with seesaw dynamics and a prolonged, melancholy dream sequence that never quite builds into the desired crescendo. In contrast, the title track delivers on all fronts. Powered by mesmerizing drones, it is a nine-minute psych rock expedition that passes through clouds of agit-punk feedback and distortion, some big, chunky riffs, and a concluding squall of visceral noise rock that owes more to SONIC YOUTH than EXPLOSIONS IN THE SKY.

After such a monumental centerpiece, the rest of "Embers" takes a more low-key approach. "Realms" drifts into view on undulating waves of synthesized strings, as chords collide in blissful slow motion and time seems to stand still in response. It is a beautiful and atypical moment, strongly redolent of A WINGED VICTORY FOR THE SULLEN's amorphous classical conceits, but firmly and squarely where it needs to be here. And of course, it provides calm before the storm.

"Oscillation" is a tense and spiky post-punk reminiscence that prowls and stalks from the shadows, edging towards hidden horrors but never quite exposing them. A mid-song moment of tranquility threatens to take "Embers" back towards standardized post-rock tropes, but GOD IS AN ASTRONAUT are committed to challenging themselves: "Oscillation" ends in a tetchy mood, with thuggish riffs and a doomy demeanor. Next, "Prism" wrings prog-tinged melancholy from a warm cascade of analogue keys and ghostly guitar, with a glacial heartbeat keeping pace in the background.

The closer, "Hourglass", is even more emotionally demanding. From its sober, sorrowful piano prologue to the way it builds to a delicate, melodic peak, like some Lynchian strain of easy listening, it is so pretty and pristine that you may feel slightly guilty for listening to it and potentially soiling it with your ears.

Another fine record from a band with endless supplies of inspiration, "Embers" is not perfect, but its desire to look beyond the mundane and to harness the warmth of the human spirit is undeniable. No words necessary.