Caesura is a dense, swirling storm cloud of sound. Dark and menacing, and leaving hundreds of upended trailer homes in its wake, Caesura pound, pummel and scream like there's no tomorrow. Comparable to a slightly more melodic version of early Unwound, or perhaps a less mathy Roadside Monument, the three men of Caesura flex their indie rock muscle quite effectively on More Specific, Less Pacific. The band's success hangs on the interplay between Evan Rehill's bruising guitar histrionics and Brad Purvis' elastic basslines -- which, in the trio's most incisive moments, resemble the interplay between Roger Miller's guitar and Clint Conley's bass that made Mission of Burma the legends that they are. Rehill's vocals, which range from a strangled scream to a Thurston Moore-esque speak-sing, are rarely comprehensible, but they add an extra quotient of tension and angst to the proceedings. As with most music of this type, Caesura is short on hooks and long on bluster, but they beat the shit out of everything in sight with such proficiency that you won't really care. After all, you're not meant to be able to sing along with a bulldozer.