There is so much activity going on here (and on “A+G.2” and the closer, “A+G.3”) that it’s hard to keep up with the sonic sprint; you’ll find yourself with eyes closed, head down because there is no way to experience Rub with any distractions. But it’s a lovely wall of sound: it’s all hand-made, human interaction with machines and instruments to coax out 10,000 bits and approaches (read: it’s not just flicking the “on” button and letting the inanimate animate). Further, the chemistry of the group is the flawless cooperation of an eight-handed beast, one that acknowledges a macro picture while building and tearing down waves of deft orchestration — often sounding as a gremlin big-band. There are scarce solos moments, and they make for a powerful contrast (i.e. a pause near nine minutes to highlight Miller’s roaring, pitch-bending power chords).

read the whole thing here.

get the album here