Anyone who regularly reads reviews of music, books or movies knows two things. Firstly, critics are always — always — looking for the next big thing. It’s their way of attempting relevance to the art form they’re critiquing; such behavior isn’t necessarily a bad thing because it encourages innovation, but it also encourages artistic fads. Secondly, critics love obscure genre lingo. The more elaborately-termed a band’s musical genealogy is, it seems, the more likely reviewers are to laud them, and so on for movies and whatnot.

Enter Red Sparowes. This Los Angeles-based supergroup falls squarely into the esoteric subgenre classification of ‘post-rock,’ which as a term has no immediately obvious significance—can you say “critical praise”? Post-rock boils down to a revision of rock music that retains all the familiar instrumentation (except for vocals in Red Sparowes’ case) but replaces standard verse-chorus song structure with long, atmospheric compositions that depend on sweeping builds and climaxes to affect the listener. Though too musically demanding to ever blow up commercially, post-rock has become established enough to garner some mainstream attention. Genre mainstays Explosions in the Sky and Mogwai have each recorded soundtracks for major motion pictures over the past two years, and iconoclastic forbearers like Slint are now considered rock royalty by many parties. Post-rock as a whole is near its zenith, and so the time is ripe for Red Sparowes to rocket into the critical spotlight, right?

Well, sort of. The style within which Red Sparowes plays is at this juncture old enough and well-defined enough to have a set of tagalong clichés, and this band adheres to them religiously. Super-long songs? Yup; Every Heart Shines Towards the Red Sun averages out to nearly nine minutes per track, and that’s including a one-minute interlude. Long song titles? Hell yeah. Red Sparowes have no vocalist, but their song titles are so elaborate that the band manages to describe the tactics and consequences of China’s Great Leap Forward program over the eight tracks. Seismic instrumental builds and crescendos? You bet—the band’s proclivity for taking simple clean guitar motifs and then expanding them gradually into massive, effects-drenched towers of harmony is what most obviously sticks them with the post-rock tag. In short, Red Sparowes’s second album—like their first—is essentially a genre piece. The band throws in a few extra quirks, like bassist Greg Burns’ occasional pedal-steel guitar work, but there’s no real innovation to be had here.

So why is it so goddamn enjoyable? One word: execution. Red Sparowes have completed a masterpiece of craftsmanship with this album. Though inventiveness doesn’t play much of a role in their compositions, this band is so talented and so poised that their songs sound fresh regardless. Josh Graham (of Neurosis) collaborates seamlessly with Bryant Clifford Meyer and Jeff Caxide (both of ISIS); both artsy metal bands execute similar peaks-and-valleys song structures, and these three musicians’ experience comes out visibly in this album’s louder moments. Still, these tracks never really achieve metal intensity, and Red Sparowes spend most of their time taking advantage of the lush Tim Green production. These songs are ripe with gorgeous sounds and tone manipulation, and the overall feel of this album is one of beauty rather than of emotional intensity.

So will Red Sparowes garner the expected critical praise? Probably, and deservedly so, but not for the most desirable of reasons. Unless this band develops a more distinctive sound they will remain second-tier, but that will be plenty to satisfy most any post-rock fan and even crossover listeners from rock or ambient music. This band is certainly talented enough to push their sound further into the unknown, but whether the members have the motive and gumption enough to make the push remains to be seen.