Written over the past year, the series of chaotic, estranged numbers on Such Triumph throw the "for those about to post-rock, we salute you" book out the window, and whittle away subliminally at The Narrator's collective outside influences. There is rock here, and it's mined and polished and cut and refined, but it's much more raw than anything you'd bring home to a would-be-spouse. The Narrator's music is aggressive and tempestuous and oblique and all the things you wouldn't normally expect to hear from an active band geographically based in the largest city in Illinois. But Such Triumph is also a lesson in introspection, only it thankfully lacks the miscreant coming-of-age tag that starts with "e" and ends with "o."