Of all the emo bands that provided away-message fodder for my friend Doug at the turn of the century, the one I remember most fondly is the Appleseed Cast, a Lawrence, Kansas, crew that quickly evolved past ripping off Sunny Day Real Estate. The ornate post-rock of their dual Low Level Owl LPs was a sleek, satisfying alternative to their peers' raw, self-righteous fury.

"Caption reads: It's all over now."

Of all the emo bands that provided away-message fodder for my friend Doug at the turn of the century, the one I remember most fondly is the Appleseed Cast, a Lawrence, Kansas, crew that quickly evolved past ripping off Sunny Day Real Estate. The ornate post-rock of their dual Low Level Owl LPs was a sleek, satisfying alternative to their peers' raw, self-righteous fury.

The Appleseed Cast's latest, Sagarmatha, is my first encounter with the group in nearly a decade. The album, originally conceived as an all-instrumental EP, has stretched out to a nearly wordless hour of epics.

As if they've continued stripping vestiges of emo away during our time apart, the band's slow-building instrumentals are more reminiscent of Explosions in the Sky than the unit that produced mixtape staple "Steps and Numbers."

This new mutation mostly works well for the band, though the long instrumentals could benefit from a little more of Chris Crisci's singing. No matter how many arpeggios the band rolls out, his resigned rumination remains just as potent a tool.

Appleseed's Circus show will also feature Jukebox the Ghost and Jenny Owen Youngs, originally scheduled to play a separate gig the night before.