It's perhaps important to note from the onset that I am extremely biased when it comes to this band.

So much so that upon hearing their latest record for the first time and literally getting goose bumps, I immediately sought several independent opinions of faithful music lovers to see if I wasn't just getting carried away listening to my "friends" latest effort. I've been introducing people to the band ever since, and each new listener seems to only confirm that as biased as I may be having shared an address with one of the band's members (Tangzine contributor Matt Stone) for a time this record is truly something special.

Already creating a buzz among more than just my circle of friends, who have likely grown tired of hearing me trump the record's merits, Saxon Shore is more or less guaranteed a place on several critic's short-lists come December for album of the year.

Recorded with the always masterful engineer Dave Fridmann (Flaming Lips. Mercury Rev, Wheat), Saxon Shore create a lush melodic soundscape that has drawn comparisons in early reviews to instrumental contemporaries Explosions in the Sky and The Album Leaf. With Fridman at the helm, all of the energetic bursts of drums kicking, guitars swirling and bass pounding is captured in a way that emphatically grabs the listener into the band's warm world of melodic goodness. In this instrumental world, one brushes with lush guitar and keyboard sounds running the gamut of the pop, electronic and rock spectrum.

At one moment you're drifting at sea to the rhythmic beat of drums and soothing keyboard. At another you're caught in a storm of distortion with wave after wave of sound lapping at your ears.

To saythis record offers a little bit of everything may seem an odd commentary ofan all-instrumental record. Often the criticism people have of music without words like this is that it leaves them wanting some other element to bring them in. After repeated listens, at least 20 according to my iTunes play count, I still find new layers to discover and appreciate, an intricate guitar riff, a wonderful drum fill, a soothing keyboard backdrop, a heart wrenching bass tone.

Conceptualized into visible forms by Philadelphia artist Ben Volta, the album with its nod toward death is essentially a cinematic journey through ups and downs, lows and highs, triumphs and defeat. Never settling for mediocrity or a repeat of procedure so to speak, it's an album that ultimately ends with great promise and a rejuvenation of spirit.