Looking through Labradford’s too-brief discography, I was surprised to see that most of their albums are relatively short. For example, their self-titled sophomore album — my favorite of theirs — doesn’t even pass the 40-minute mark. And yet, their songs always feel vast and mysterious thanks to Mark Nelson’s cryptic vocals and guitar melodies, Robert Donne’s ambling basslines, and Carter Brown’s eerie synths. Even their name is enigmatic, sounding like some long-lost Arctic island.

Despite being one of Kranky Records’ most prolific artists in the mid-to-late ‘90s, Labradford’s brand of post-rock would come to be overshadowed by the more dramatic variety proffered by Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Mogwai, and Explosions in the Sky. But over the years, I’ve come to realize that their subtler take — as typified by “Pico” with its cryptic lyrics (“And even precious memories feel more like documentaries of someone else’s life”) and theremin-like synth melodies — has its own quiet power and cinematic effect.