By Brian Tucker

Tucked in the back corner away from the bar, Unholy Tongues performed Saturday night before a packed crowd at Satellite Bar & Lounge. A release party for new album Jackal in a World of Reassurance, it was a night of loud and uplifting instrumental music blending dreamy elements crash and burn aesthetics of post-rock music. The music was complicated and shiny, confined perfectly to one small space.

People clogged aisle space between bar area as the trio played on the floor. No stage, and within a few feet of them onlookers who watched the band like grade school kids form a circle around a fight on the playground. The setting lent to the performance, making the music larger and more immediate, forcing its way into the crowd. People had to walk right by the band as it played in order to go outside, go the bathroom, or exit the building’s large double doors next to where bands performed.

People walked past necks of guitars and those watching the band. A woman carelessly walked into Matt William’s bass guitar and for a moment it was forced recognition, that yes, music is played live. What an image, people watching a band perform and inadvertently slowing down people wandering up and down the long bar.

They opened with “Dedication,” an explosive song built on Abram Young’s guitar playing that continually echoed, sounding like two guitarists instead of one. It cascaded and exploded, getting the band off to an auspicious beginning. By the second song drummer Jeff Bridgers had already reached a moment of fury in his playing, something one might expect to see much later in a set.

“White Widow” summarized the emotional range of what the band performed, going from subtle touchstones to fevered playing. The song’s reverberating guitar echo lent a soaring, Pink Floyd feel against the song’s intensely driving rhythm. “Trim the Edges” equally so, building further as it continued, the guitar coupled and bent along the way.

The band’s set was loud and aggressive without stepping into the territory of post-rock bands like Isis. It maintained melody and a sense of evolution, even when the music found rougher edges (“Oso de Tigre”).