In April, post-rock returned with a vengeance, like a hungry grizzly shaking off the coils of hibernation. “I was not dead,” said the lean, winter-honed bear. “I was only sleeping.” And the weary world rejoiced.

April’s releases provide a colorful snapshot of a vibrant scene. Seasoned veterans are sharing lofts with relative upstarts. One act has added vocals, while another has removed them. At least three artists have produced the best work of their careers. Others have split critics and fans.

These albums open windows to wider conversations. What elements make for a great post-rock album? Is originality essential for greatness? Which is better: to satisfy the masses, or the challenge them? Is it worse to be too mainstream or too experimental? Is failed ambition worthy of praise? And finally, who’s carrying the banner?

With eight albums on the list, The Silent Ballet has never been more divided, or more united: divided, because staffers chose so many different albums, but united, because the albums share a common base. Post-rock is alive and well; the counter-argument has just been refuted.

 

For all the talk of post-rock being “cinematic” in nature, it’s seldom that we see works of the genre designed to accompany works of the silver screen. Even less common (Friday Night Lights excepted) is for post-rock to function as a score, rather than just a soundtrack – or for that matter, to be, you know, good. My Education shares its Austin, Texas home with Explosions in the Sky, but its cinematic accompaniment for F.W. Murnau’s 1927 expressionist landmark film Sunrise provides a better fit for post-rock’s emotional intricacies and catharsis than high school football. However one cuts and splices it, My Education has clearly struck gold again. Those already familiar with either the band or the film are probably already rushing to purchase this album; others should simply know that Sunrise is so far the best post-rock record of the year. (Tom Butcher)

 

With Give Me Beauty … Or Give Me Death, Ef became a band to watch. While the follow-up drew a fair amount of criticism, it was intriguing enough to prolong fans’ anticipation. With Mourning Golden Morning, Ef not only fulfills the promise of its debut, but catapults itself to the front of the burgeoning Swedish post-rock scene. This release is marked by maturity, confidence, and poise, showcasing the band’s transition from the influenced to the influential. To confirm this, one need look no further than “Sons of Ghosts,” an imposing yet elegant track that proves to be the band’s crowning achievement. Now that fans have been rewarded for waiting out the band’s growing pains, one can only hope that Ef will continue on this exponential path of growth. (David Boss)

 

Coyote is arguably Kayo Dot’s most focused and cohesive album: a condensed Kafkian experience of solitude, alienation, nothingness and death. This surreal album showcases heavy, heavy bass played in a decaying theatre of simulations, haunted by the ghost of modernism as it dreams of dissonance and the abyss. Fans will find some things familiar (it wouldn’t be the same band otherwise) and yet will probably be surprised by some new turns. This is part of what makes Coyote one of the most exciting works to hit the art-rock environment in many years. So when you listen, make sure you turn the lights off, lay down, and remember that in classical mythology sleep is death’s brother and companion. The next step – closing your eyes and fading away – is up to you. (David Murrieta)

 

Red Sparowes has just produced the best album of its young career, a pedal steel anchored, Neapolitan guitar assault that places the L.A. band firmly in the big leagues. This is post-rock at its muscular best: heavy on the riffs and light on the languidity. The album gets stronger as it rolls along, barreling toward an inevitable confrontation, much like the Cormac McCarthy novels that lend the songs their titles. At the end, the listener feels like a tornado survivor: shaken yet exhilarated, with every hair standing on end, crackling from the electricity. (Richard Allen)

 

We Were Exploding Anyway is less an album than a crushing statement of intent. It acts as the perfect riposte to the ill-conceived negativity that greeted the brilliant The Destruction of Small Ideas, smashing ideas about poor production into tiny pieces by effortlessly fusing together electronica and rock to unprecedented extremes. From the opening bass drum of “Mountainhead” to the soaring finale of “Tiger Girl,” We Were Exploding Anyway is an unrelenting masterpiece that reaffirms the band’s status as the shining light of instrumental music. The rate of progression from The Fall of Math is quite staggering, and it is simply unfair to expect any other band to operate at this level; with every passing moment 65daysofstatic becomes more vital, more urgent and more original than ever before. This band really is unstoppable. (James Ould)

 

A lot of supposed purists will likely assume there’s no way in God’s glacial earth that the new Jónsi solo album could top Sigur Rós. Ever. But riddle me this: would you play Sigur Rós to usher in the spring? Would you throw it on to aid and abet a billion floral expolosions? Would you invite it to frolick as the humid fruits of life shrug off a long and dark winter and heave their way into a new and blissful reality? Iceland’s biggest band has tried its hand at “happy songs,” but has never approached the amount of joy and the quality of tears on Go. Impeccably produced, this album is absolutely ebullient. Go defies all expectations; it’s a chameleon of exuberance and languages, of textures and doors opening to a happier today. You’ve got to get this into your life. (Nayt Keane)

 

The term “wall of sound” is thrown around much more than the term warrants. While many bands are described as creating their own “wall of sound,” multiple listens reveal myriad cracks. Year of No Light, on the other hand, builds an impenetrable sonic fortress in its second LP, Ausserwelt. This album takes instrumental metal to a whole new level, and will almost definitely be viewed as a touchstone of the genre. Year of No Light has set a new standard, one the rest of the pack has been left to chase. (Mohammed Ashraf)

 

Post-rock and classical music have a lot in common, so the biggest acts have blessed us in recent years by performing with orchestras. Mono’s 2009 NYC set has become the stuff of legend, the post-rock version of the Beatles’ rooftop concert. For those of us who were at the show, it was an unforgettable experience, as feedback shook the cavernous halls and rattled the upper pews, while strings and woodwinds soared toward the rafters. Now those who were unable to attend can experience the next best thing through this elegantly packaged release. More than just a live album, Holy Ground is a visual and sonic document of a significant historical performance, and here it’s been given the treatment it deserves. (Nikki Benson)