There are many myths and legends about constellations — from the stories of ancient Greek gods, to sailors using them as navigation tools on their nautical adventures. At some point, for one reason or another, we have all looked at the stars and tried to connect the dots. We’ve tried to see the bigger picture by piecing together the individual parts of the story. This is exactly what Balmorhea does with their fourth studio album Constellations; the nine tracks work as the stars, that when connected unfold an audio landscape. Using only instruments, they have created an album that is filled with more emotion, more feeling, and is as stunning than any one that uses lyrics to tell its story.

Hailing from Austin, Balmorhea (pronounced Bal-More-Ay) is lead by multi-instrumentalists Rob Lowe and Michael Muller, who head the orchestral band with keys, banjo, and guitar. Rounding out the group are Alisa Burns on violin, Nicole Kern on cello, and Travis Chapman on upright bass.

Constellations plays out much like the architecture of a story line. The track “To the Order of Night,” with its soft creeping piano, opens the album in a way of laying the background. It is the piano that provides some of the most beautiful movements throughout. “Bowsprit,” as it’s seafaring title implies, then points the direction for the upcoming journey. The track’s building melody piles the instrumentation on top of each other until its full momentum is pointed onward. Listening makes you wish that more indie bands utilized the banjo. Seriously. The high-pitch twang set against more common strings (i.e. guitar, violin) is something that can’t be f’ed with.

The title track is the keystone, placed directly at the midpoint like the three stars that make up Orion’s Belt. The minimalist piano is ghostly and chilling, and as the keys become louder there are very distinct echoes of traditional classical. From here the action begins to rise with a flutter of feverish piano on “Steerage and the Lamp.” While still very minimalist, the pace is at least doubled as the race towards the climax of the story quickens.

“On the Weight of Night” is the grave final act. The slow rattle of the drum signifies that the end is near. A grief heavy organ steadies the procession and leads to an exit of ambient noise on “Palestrina.” There are some albums that demand to be heard from start to finish without interruption. This is one of them.

Everything about Constellations is subtle. It’s hard to pick out highlights or particular moments that standout. This is only because each minute seems to be as important as the last or next. It’s quiet and serene. It can make you feel serenity or empathy at any given moment. Constellations is so simple it’s complex.