Pitchfork

You look at that cover, you might think these guys have stopped caring. It's been three years since they've made an album (barring a one-sided record from last year), and longer than that since a well-received record was called either "math-rock" or "post-rock" by a critic-- even if Six Parts Seven didn't exactly fit the bill they're often saddled with. They had some vibraphones, and they didn't have a singer, but aside from that, Six Parts Seven always made a sedate and stately noise-- never quite as jazzy as Tortoise, not as prone to sweeping melodrama as Mogwai or Godspeed, and never as stark as Slint. It was all simmer and no explosions. While that sets them apart a bit, they're at greater risk of making background music that's pretty and not much else-- a soundtrack to homework or washing dishes.

But the sound of this Chicago-90s-noodle-by-way-of-Ohio band went from ponderous to lushly orchestrated in a small window of time, and they dodged expectations with a remix record featuring some big "stars" that was better than expected. Thankfully, Casually Smashed to Pieces refines the sound of their high-water mark, Everywhere and Right Here, and resists drifting into background patter for at least the album's first half.

The lessons learned on Everywhere serve the band even better here, and their more diverse influences are more apparent. John Fahey's shadow looms on "Conversation Heart", a stark, unexpected country-tinged opener that segues artfully into "Stolen Moments", a track with the familiar trappings of their previous albums, but deployed with a bit more patience. Blocky guitars, undulating bass, and especially muted horns all tease out a few bits of melody that lock and interweave. It's not just gorgeous; it shows a knack for timing and flow, and even surprises in its brevity as it fades quickly into "Knock at My Door". That track is a bit more meandering, but showcases that same restraint, as well as little production touches like the bed of vibraphone that rumbles almost inaudibly underneath the din of guitar and percussion.

More of those horns pop up in "Falling Over Evening", as well as some pedal steel guitar, and you almost wish Six Parts Seven would give their auxiliary players more of the spotlight-- as is, they're minor details that push average songs just a hair further. "Awaiting Elemental Meltdown" does better, a starker opening much like the record's intro, giving more room for the pedal steel and more contrast with the inevitable building and layering of guitars and the sweep of distortion. It's more like a tide than a crashing wave when it comes, a low-frequency rumble that reminds you why they have three kinds of bass listed in the liner notes.

What follows is much more typical of the bands cited above-- "Confusing Possibilities" and "Everything Wrong Is Right Again" choose to hold back on the small symphony until the songs' final moments, but their crescendos are predictable, and the mid-tempo jangle-and-plod of the verses more tepid. Even as the back of the record lags, though, it's a solid restatement of their strengths, and a decent point of introduction for the unfamiliar.