What makes an album a masterpiece?  I have come across a lot of new bands lately, many of which have potential, and some of which even have a few great songs, but it’s becoming increasingly rare to discover an album that I would really call a masterpiece.  I think the true measure is not just an album’s ability to hold the listener’s attention from start to finish, but to really make a case that the songs, in addition to being individually well-crafted, truly belong together.  Each track serves a specific purpose within the album’s flow, almost impossible to imagine jumbled out of order, and the end result inspires more than it entertains.  I had this in mind, after wading through a bunch of particularly uninspiring new releases over the past month or so, when I rediscovered one of my favorite albums of all time, Cave In‘s masterpiece Jupiter.

The evolution of Cave In’s sound has had its fair share of detours.  They started out as a math/metalcore band, pretty much defining the genre with their first full-length, Until Your Heart Stops, in 1999.  It would have been impossible to predict that the band would end up going on to play fairly straight-forward alternative rock (on a major label no less!) with 2003′s Antenna.  Personally, I find Until Your Heart Stops a little too gut-wrenchingly brutal for my tastes, while its polar opposite Antenna is almost disposable in its radio-friendliness.  Somewhere between these two extremes lies Jupiter, which finds the band at their creative peak, veering far off the course set by their previous work to create an unexpectedly brilliant album of space-rock classics.  With Jupiter, Cave In shows us that although there is something to be said for making an album that defines a genre, it is a greater achievement still to defy genres altogether.

Gone are the visceral screams and punishing rhythms reminiscent of Dillinger Escape Plan.  Instead, Jupiter showcases vocalist Stephen Brodsky’s dreamy croon, floating somewhere between shimmering, psychedelic washes of guitar and a thundering but precise rhythm section.  Sonically, the end result is perhaps a post-hardcore take on Radiohead, pitting huge, wall of sound production techniques and guitar-as-orchestra arrangements, against meticulous and nuanced songwriting.  The chorus of “In The Stream of Commerce” is haunting, creating the feeling of floating in the clouds, while somehow also sounding as if the guitar echoes are coming from underwater.  Elsewhere, “Requiem” flies through countless ideas in various styles, while still managing to feel somewhat brief at nine minutes.  All this suggests a band who is confident and deliberate in their execution of a sound they have been developing for the span of their careers, rather than a band who has taken a dramatic 180-degree turn from their debut only a year earlier.

Although all eight tracks are essential, the biggest highlight is definitely “Big Riff,” a seven-minute composition of stunning artistry.  If there was ever just one song that the fans would never let the band get away with cutting from their set list for even a single show, it’s this one.  Though it has the distinction of being the only song from Jupiter to feature any of the hardcore screaming that dominated the previous record, “Big Riff” is also balanced out by some of the most delicate and stirring falsetto heard on the album.  The dynamics are perfectly orchestrated and the vocal delivery is absolutely sincere, making both extremes truly poignant.  The guitars shift seamlessly throughout, back and forth between a crushing behemoth and angelic whispers, and everywhere in between.  Finally, the song’s epic finish finds various layers from earlier sections finally coming together in a powerful catharsis.

When I saw Cave In a couple years ago, touring to promote their last album, Perfect Pitch Black, it was kind of an odd experience.  They seemed to be rebelling against the mainstream accessibility of Antenna by ditching the straightforward song structures and incorporating more elements of their early work.  It was somewhat disappointing to only hear three songs from Jupiter, but it was very interesting to see where their sound had finally ended up, and to take in the bizarre mix of fans who came out to see them.  The band is currently on hiatus, its various members spending their time with other projects.  It is impossible to say what the next chapter in Cave In’s history might sound like, which probably could have been said at any point during their career, and anyway, I think they prefer to keep us guessing.  Regardless, I’m just glad that despite their ups and downs, we have at least one true masterpiece to show for it.