Beginning with 1988's "prairie School Freakout," Eleventh Dream Day have forged one of the most durable sounds to emerge from the indie-rock underground. Balancing ragged guitars against fragile melodies and sweet vocal harmonies, the Chicago group's three late '80s/early '90s albums perfectly encapsulated the promise – both artistic and commercial – of post-punk alternative rock.

Unlike many lesser-talented peers, though, Eleventh Dream Day never managed to cash in on their credentials, and after 1993's hook-filled El Moodio, the band left both its major label and the poppier elements of its sound behind. On 1994's moody, meandering Ursa Major and the new Eighth, EDD trade easy hooks and punchy rhythms for cerebral grooves full of subtly shifting tempos and textures. But where Ursa seemed motivated less by adventure than by a sense of weary resignation, Eighth bursts with quiet intensity, achieving a compelling synthesis of the band's penchant for experimentation and its gift for kick-ass rock & roll.

Bassist Doug McCombs and the album's co-producer, John McEntire, are also members of avant-rockers Tortoise, and that band's use of intricate rhythmic interplay is evident here. Guitarist Rick Rizzo shcws he's still able to toss off terse pop hooks in "April" and "Insomnia," but more often, tunes emerge from single, repeating riffs that swell to crescendos of distortion and drone. This approach grows tiresome in extended jams like the eight-minute opener "For a King," but "Writes a Letter Home" and "Two Smart Cookies" surge with tense, taut emotion. Eleventh Dream Day may not earn their overdue commercial breakthrough this time around, but Eighth is as vital as any record the band has made. (RS 761)

JASON FINE