Elegy is an album full of contrasts, a work that tightly represents the immense strength of a kind of post-rock that is not tied down to a narrative or to the mechanics of loud and quiet. As its title indicates, it flows like verse, drawing the listener into the moment, creating emotionally charged set-pieces that do not last too long for fear of losing focus. As if it was a minimalist or ambient album, every distortion counts, every little shift in volume drives the music wildly into different states of dramatic sentiment. This is a lament born from a passion for life, a dirge woven from sunlight, a torrential meditation in which the limits of living are played out as uplifting melodies brimming with delay, an echo that appears to remain forever at the same time it appears to dissipate ephemerally.
In descriptions of the band a comparison to Russian Circles has been made, but perhaps a more apt association would be to the likes of Caspian, in the sense that this is post-rock entirely ‘for the heart’, a series of explorations of feeling that do not simplify moods or cling to the clichés of the loud-quiet style as many other bands in the genre tend to do. It is in this way that Rocket Miner avoid the now repetitive raw transition from melodic to noisy, preferring the middle-ground of riffs that evoke an intensity that is not necessarily that of an oceanic emotion. This is much more controlled, and therefore, from a certain point of view, open to a much more powerful kind of expression, the kind that does not paralyze in ecstatic catharsis but moves to the passivity of remembrance, an acceleration of the heart-rate while standing perfectly still as we come to understand the poetic quality of pure feeling, the great creativity of doing nothing other than introspection.
In tracks like “Jejune” there are also subtle hints of bands like Maserati or even The Mercury Program, affirming the expansion of a genre that has been, for a while now, derided for its tendency to repeat itself. Albums like this point at a certain development that cares little for the impatience of novelty-hunters, positioning itself in the thick of a style that never becomes old, that no matter how cruel the demands for its change in direction are, it keeps its youthful sentimentality close, the promise of a feeling so enormous, so personally true that it cannot be contained in any prison of language. This is, then, an Elegy through and through, an exercise in the expression of something as endless as are life and death, their imprint deeply intertwined in every passing moment.
In the end, this is an album for post-rockers; if you’ve ever liked the genre, this is sure to reignite some of that intensity we were all so a part of once, bursting with tremolo emotions that encompassed our whole world. (David Murrieta)