Genre names are often as lazy and reductive as those who use them. Post-rock, in particular, is now so abused and misused that it somehow covers Tortoise, Stereolab, Mogwai, and Mono. In the 90s, the term originally described rock's subversion through its own tools. Thus, guitars didn't have to rock or define riffs. Vocals, if present, weren't the focus. Songs didn't rely on verses and choruses. Over time, this open system became a closed one. Now post-rock is very much defined: instrumental rock with long songs. If it's heavier, then the equally unhelpful "post-metal" applies. Destruction of rock's template has only created another one; now hordes of sound- and look-alikes have ditched vocals and grown beards.

Still, variations exist, and Russian Circles have a distinctive one. This Chicago trio is more compact and disciplined than its peers. Whereas Mogwai are spiky and slightly oblique, Mono are purple-hearted and passionate, and Explosions in the Sky muck about in major key clouds, Russian Circles are efficiently precise. Clean tones ring cleanly, but so do the dirty ones. The band is also willing to be overtly metal; riffs march with military precision. Even sheets of sound are carefully painted, in contrast to, say, Mono's walls of weeping. This tautness of delivery suggests another "post": post-punk. In fact, guitarist Mike Sullivan's palette resembles that of U2's the Edge, but with an Isis fetish.

Such economy of motion yields stark beauty. Sullivan favors hypnotic, clean-toned ostinatos reminiscent of Pink Floyd. In "Youngblood", they're ominous; in "Campaign", they're winsome. Even when distorted, these repeating figures are still tender. "Harper Lewis" unfurls melodic spirals that recall prog-surfers the Mermen. The organ-lit "Xavii" is practically Mazzy Star. "Verses" takes the chord progression of "With or Without You", kicks out Bono, and erects a gleaming church. Amid peers fond of obfuscation, such nakedness is startling.

It's also sleek, and a little cold. The rolling 6/8 of "Station" is essentially Viking metal, evoking raised fists and frostbitten beards. Sullivan's riffing is vigorous, but as the only guitarist, that's all he can do. The riffs beg for vocals, melodies, some sort of top layer; instead they're just a robust foundation. "Harper Lewis", too, is ripe for counterpoint, but instead presents melodies linearly. The result feels muzzled. Songs hint at going over-the-top, but they never do. This can be tasteful, of course; the drumming in "Station" is astonishingly tasty. But if songs beg for vocals, they're no longer post-rock, but rock. Post-rock's forte is letting instruments speak for vocals. Russian Circles speak articulately, but could stand to roar a bit.