Making something out of not much

It's no surprise that early Cul de Sac shows were performed subsequently with experimental films. Sounding nothing like the early '90s rock moment they came out of, the nearly always vocal-less group feels like an experiment in itself. Death of the Sun finds Cul de Sac interpreting world music filtered through Americana reference points. The album is built on found samples from around the globe including Peruvian rainforest field recordings, Bibayak Pygmies, a Jew's harp from Indonesia and pre-World War II Creole singers. By allowing each band member to compose parts specifically to vibe with the samples, the cinematic quality of Death of the Sun becomes exquisite. Mental pictures from vaguely recollected movies arise effortlessly. The extra spooky "Turok, Son of Stone" moves around in oblivion as moody femme vocals surround incessant, primitive Afro-Asian drumming. Eventually, it is able to recall slick thrillers like "Wild Things," mysterioso Anne Rice stories and British Imperialist movies in equal turn. Cul de Sac should also be awarded a medal for brevity. Too many post-rock instrumental groups get weighed down by their own ideas and a refusal to edit themselves. Death of the Sun is a carefully constructed album, which is actually as fun to listen to as it is to name drop.