Unlike some other Texan power-aficionados, Explosions In The Sky don’t preach. They don’t even speak or sing. The turtle-neck-sporting foursome are much more comfortable weaving spellbinding instrumental cacophonies á la Mogwai. Songs – sorry, this is post-rock, journeys – like ‘Catastrophe And The Cure’ epitomise their earnest intent on this, their fourth album – all cloudy cymbals, fluttering snare and waxy guitar. Each winding soundscape sounds like it was made for those big budget nature documentaries with David Attenborough. Actually, forget Planet Earth, Explosions In The Sky are far too grand for this cosmos.