"Rasura has got everything in it: a soundtrack to a romantic dinner in the Mediterranean, guitar solos announcing an epic Morricone shootout, crushed ballads for kamikaze hearts. Often it feels like an imaginary highlights reel culled from across the entire space-time of instrumental rock, with the blossoming guitars of Explosions in the Sky sprouting upon the otherworldly expanses of Pink Floyd in all their astronomical excess, prog rock bombast falling suddenly humble to the tune od post-rock's soft moderation. Their adoration for their art permeates every single nook of it, even if their art doesn't entirely belong to them."
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