Pitchfork

You know those moments you get when you hear a great song for the first time? There's always that one part that you just connect with so well that you can't get enough of listening to it. Godspeed You Black Emperor's debut album is, to some extent, like that the whole way through.

The disc opens with a low-pitched, dull drone and a clear, deep voice speaks: "The car is on fire. And there's no driver at the wheel. And the sewers are all muddied with a thousand lonely suicides..." The man goes on, the centerpiece in a recorded interpretation of post-apocalyptic stillness. "It went like this. The buildings tumbled in on themselves. Mothers clutching babies. Dug through the rubble. And pulled out their hair." A violin in the background plays for the dead.

20 people were involved in the making of this album, whose three tracks span the course of three years (1995-1998). As a collective, they've recorded some of the most harrowing soundscapes you may (or may not) ever listen to. And of all avant-garde's minimalist, found-sound experimentalists, this group is one of the few that hasn't left out beauty and emotion in their pieces. We'll see what the future brings for Godspeed You Black Emperor! Let's just hope it's not a "skyline beautiful on fire... twisted metal stretching upwards."