From the most guttural roar comes infinite beauty
Words: overrated. Just ask this Chicago trio (now with [b]Botch[/b]/[b]These Arms Are Snakes[/b]’ Brian Cook as permanent bassist), who can evoke sunbursts and starlight without a single lyric. And while the domineering post-metal they’re known for colours this third record in granite tones, it’s the squalling [b]‘Melee’[/b], [b]‘Malko’[/b]’s desperate violence and the queasy menace of [b]‘When The Mountain Comes To Muhammad’[/b] that confirm RC are more than just noisy bastards. What’s more, combined with the breaths of quiet beauty – the tinges of regal brass on [b]‘Philos’[/b], the way [b]‘Hexed All’[/b] feels like a note written on the sky that says ‘everything’s OK, man’ – [b]‘Geneva’[/b] blossoms into an evocative, inspiring album.
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