I'm sick to death of instrumental rock. There are just too many mathy, proggy, wanky outfits these days, trying to impress us with their fretboard acrobatics, fractal time signatures and abstract harmonies. With more notes per minute than Charlie Parker, some of today's vocal-less ensembles practically numb the ears and brain with technical overkill. But Chicago's Russian Circles has something different to offer. Rather than trying to fill all the spaces left by the lack of lyrics, the power trio crafts potent yet sophisticated rock compositions, as if the singer just didn't bother to show up. In fact, the addition of a vocalist would only emasculate the simple, raw power that these three men generate with the trusty, time-tested formula of guitar, bass and drums. If all rock followed the Russian Circles path, every arrogant singer in town would soon find himself netting his hair and flying the flair at Bennigan's.
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