Whatever your stance on U2 might be, it’s a cold, hard fact that their 1987 album “Joshua Tree” remains a masterclass not only in richly layered, widescreen sound but also in coherent songwriting. So, when a band with all sorts of post-rock leanings namedrops this particular endeavor as one of their principal inspirations, things are bound to get interesting. I mean, most up-and-coming “tr00 kvlt” post-rock acts tend to favor immersive soundscapes by default, but often the songs hover around the 10-minute mark without even trying to make a point. As it happens, I have a fetish for the sonic character of boutique reverbs and could listen to the sound of a plucked guitar string resonating in the void ad infinitum, but I reckon the so-called normal people mostly could not. So, it generally pays off to put some effort into songwriting, too. The sophomore album, “Descent,” released on August 1st, 2025, by the Pennsylvanian post-rock outfit, THE DEPTH BENEATH US, demonstrates significant growth from their debut in this respect: the songs are immense, atmospheric soundscapes of epic scale and concise, pummelling riffers at the same time. This album’s expansive sound is indeed reminiscent of that U2 album classic, albeit as if RUSSIAN CIRCLES had made it.
The beauty of being an instrumental band is that it’s relatively stress-free to play with the song titles based on the songs’ moods. Here, some of the titles are a bit cryptic, to be honest. Take the opener, “Trust Thermocline,” for example. What’s a thermocline? I had to look it up in the dictionary. It turns out to be the abrupt temperature gradient in a body of water, separating the cold and the warm. Well, that didn’t really help, did it? The song is loaded with progressively tinged riffs and melancholy motifs, but I initially had no idea what it was supposed to be about. The good thing is that it doesn’t matter: the music tells you exactly what you want to hear. The riffs keep things in motion, engaging, while never losing that sense of wistful longing that post-rock is all about. The song titles “Cluster B” and “117B” are even more cryptic, but the emotional impact is not lessened one bit. I guess the song titles in the instrumental post-rock realm are generally for archiving purposes only – they make it easier for you to find your favorite memories and emotions from the vast range of options. Y’know, “This one made me shuffle my feet, while this one made me cry…” From the band members’ perspective, distinguished song titles are a bit more handy than referring to the songs with something as vague as “That Lydian dominant thing we came up with last summer,” too.
As luck would have it, some of the song titles are a bit more descriptive. “Hessdalen Lighs,” for instance, refers to the periodical sightings of fiery orbs in the evening sky in the Hessdalen valley of Norway, sightings that remain unexplained after 40 years of research. The mysterious aura of this phenomenon is quite nicely captured in the song’s maximalist post-rock aura. Then, one of the album’s absolute highlights, “Apollonian,” sure does convey the feeling of being in harmony with yourself, like I reckon the term’s philosophical meaning would suggest (as opposed to being Dionysian).
According to the band, this album illustrates a journey through conflict; everywhere you look, there’s a nearly unprecedented level of antagonism in the world, of societal, interpersonal, and romantic kind. These ten songs dig into the subject from different angles – and from this perspective, even the cryptic title of the opener starts to make more sense. The music is highly evocative in itself, so you wouldn’t need song titles, to be honest, but some of them do gently steer in some specific direction – songs such as “Head and the Transient Love” and “Jealousy Professor.” Just how forcefully these instrumental conjurations impact you depends, I guess, on what kind of shadows lurk in your subconscious, but the intricate, three-pronged guitar layers, dynamic shifts, and proggy overtones are guaranteed to make a ruckus of some sort on a soul level, but in all the good ways.
The album was mixed by Steve Durose, who’s probably best known for his guitar contributions to OCEANSIZE, back in the day, and to VENNART, more recently. He has done a great job – the songs breathe really nicely. Despite this endeavor being entirely instrumental, there is something similar to OCEANSIZE‘s 2003 debut “Effloresce” in terms of atmosphere, in fact. Both of these albums resonate with the thick air of poignancy, pilfering the post-rock treasury without adhering to the genre’s age-old tenets down to the letter. I’m sure some of the genre police would rather file THE DEPTH BENEATH US in the dust bin with GOD IS AN ASTRONAUT, saying they are not really post-rock but rather cinematic or whatever instrumental rock. Since I’m not adept at the fine art of post-anything, I’m going to use that moniker for clarity’s sake. This album has already been dubbed an epic masterwork and a strong Album-of-the-Year shortlist contender, and, after a few spins, it’s easy to see why.
Written by Jani Lehtinen
Tracklist
- Trust Thermocline
- Cluster B
- Head and the Transient Love
- Jealousy Professor
- Hessdalen Lights
- Emprise
- Apollonian
- 117B
- Descent
- Closure
Lineup
Mike McCormick – guitars
Daniel Eckrich – guitars
Matt Rockman – guitars
Ryan Manning – bass
Wes Shatzer – drums
Label
Independent
