Twenty One Trillion

Columbia, MO duo Twenty One Trillion set listener expectations right away, describing their band as a "Missouri-based project not intended for live performances" on their Bandcamp page.

In fairness, the intricate, abundant layers Justin Nardy and Todd Ramsey create on guitar, bass, drums, keyboards and all mode and manner of digital tools would prove nearly impossible to replicate in a live setting.

And yet, the pair's new, self-titled album feels live and present all the same. Their instrumental rock churns and changes, expands and contracts, it is highly deliberate yet feels as if it's being conceived the very moment it sounds. This quality, this sense of being, distinguishes the record and creates a captivating listening experience.

The seven-song set opens with "Felt Melt," which swirls over the listener like a coming storm before clicking into being. Ramsey's keen drumming anchors the feel, while Nardy seeks and finds sharp guitar tones. The song's seven-minute run ends with an exquisite, chiming sensation.

"Spirits '68" follows, making its presence felt like some bit of future jazz before becoming a darker slice of post-rock; the cut abides a ringing sound throughout, as if someone is dying to get through and make a connection. A smart electronic beat pulses through "Polar Demon," a song which lives in discontent dance hall shadows.

"Seventeen and Rad" holds a shimmering appeal, even as deeper colors appear from beneath the surface. One of the album's true highlights, "Beach Comb" joins Ramsey's insistent drums and Nardy's pensive guitar glide; moving parts pull together and push apart, eventually creating dreamy, atmospheric patterns in the song's final two minutes.

The record's last two tracks, "Surge Cubes" and "Windsor Hum," close the effort with darker, driving tones, calling on influences from the more foreboding ends of New Wave, electro-pop and experimental rock.

Throughout, Nardy and Ramsey craft music that is incredibly textured but always laser-focused; they never busy the sound but refine, refine, refine.

Drawing the ear to the most important sonic detail at every moment, the closest sensory analog might be standing close to an abstract expressionist painting, tracing the journey of one mark while appreciating the whole. This is artful, alive rock 'n' roll. - Aarik Danielsen