Andexelt is almost entirely instrumental, with only a few brief moments of a voice appearing. The first half of the album is amazing, a string of their patented testosterone-laced krautrock cadences that are constantly evolving just as they are repetitive. The second half is full of great cosmic sounds and eerie, unsettling moods. It's near impossible not to recommend all I've heard from Circle and Andexelt is one more fine example of their alien, unfamiliar sound. I firmly believe that this sort of music, in debt so much to the krautrock pioneers Neu!, Can, etc. but then also so modern and truly progressive, is the key for dislodging one's tendencies to think everything's already been done. I still don't know how to sum up Circle's formula, and although I'd like to think of a way to sell you on them with mere words, I'd really rather not even try. It wouldn't be fair... just trust me, they have to be heard to be appreciated.

In Circle's experimental approach to capturing new melodies, it focuses on repetitive rhythms and grooves before stretching their limits into what could possibly be construed as progressive rock, underground avant-garde, or mellow fusion jazz. Whatever it direction it takes, Circle manages to pique our interest with its syncopated drumbeats and reverberating synthesizers in the throbbing pace as well as in a more urgent lick. There is no let up in the soft percussion drone so widely employed in several tracks. An occasional female voice that murmurs in the background lends an ethereal mood to most of the pieces. Andexelt is thick with this sort of arcane repetition. All in all, it comes off sounding like a recording for the inhabitants of a nether, netherworld.

Circle begins Andexelt with thundering drums straight off of Led Zeppelin's Physical Graffiti, then strips the beat bare and transforms it into an urgently circulating pulse. Searing feedback and tremolo guitar come crashing in, while spooky sci-fi keyboards moan like orgasmic robots. Throughout the record, Circle dispenses with normal verse/chorus structures, using subtle instrumental variations to push the songs forward instead. The band's never-ending quest for the Holy Grail of riffs still conjures a heavenly vertigo.