March 14 – In a world where cool and what is good is defined by Clear Channel and their bosom buddy MTV, music fans have been exposed to some of the worst, most uninspired lyrics since Warrant penned “Swingin’ in the living room / Swingin’ in the kitchen / Most folks don’t / ’cause they’re too busy bitchin’ / Swingin’ in there ’cause / She wanted me to feed her / So I mixed up the batter / And she licked the beater” in their seminal 1990 hit “Cherry Pie.” Today meaninglessness and absurdity preside as the supreme rulers of the airwaves – and the days of consequential mainstream songwriters like Bob Dylan, Neil Young and that little pop group known as the Beatles are seemingly nothing more than a waning memory.
As a fan of the written word, especially when it has depth, meaning and emotion, I find this quite disconcerting – and sometimes am astonished by what exactly people will listen to and take meaning from (e.g. Fall Out Boy, Dave Matthews and the rest of their mall punk or frat acoustic brethren). It is also very hard for me to get into post-rock acts as they are without lyrics and don’t appropriately convey emotion either on record or during a live performance.
With great apprehension I walked into the sold-out Grey Eagle in Asheville, N.C., to catch a glimpse of post-rock poster boys Explosions In the Sky. My apprehension however were short-lived, about nine minutes to be more precise, as the Austin-based quartet announced themselves and then poured their entirety into “First Breath After Coma,” the first song of their near 90-minute set. Amongst gargantuan swells, waves of treble and temper-tantrum drums the members of Explosions In the Sky, eyes closed, began to sway, fling, shake and contort their bodies as their music’s dulcet delayed melodies took hold.
From beginning to end their instrumental prowess and penchant for detailed sonic textures allowed them to transition seamlessly from one movement to another.
By the end of the night all four members of Explosions In the Sky were on their hands, knees and at times their backs, exhausted from the display of emotions conveyed through guitars, drums, keyboards and movement.
After the band members took their leave from the stage, the crowd, still charged by the electric performance, did not budge from the spot they were standing and began to stomp and chant for the return of the band. Moments later guitarist Munaf Rayani walked back on the stage still out of breath and soaked in sweat from the performance. “Please, please believe me that we gave you all we had just now,” Rayani said. The crowd could did not argue and began to file out.
After the show I could not help but feel a sense of awe over what I had witnessed. This group of Texans had delivered more depth, meaning and emotion in their wordless set than popular music has seen since the punk movement in the ’70s. Explosions In the Sky’s movements and instruments had spoken their words while their lips were standing still.

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