Even relative to Son Lux's consistently unsettling, high-contrast post-rock, Tomorrows III is a striking conclusion of what proved to be an epic trilogy. If August 2020's Tomorrows I was unbalanced yet restrained and Tomorrows II was more introspective, April 2021's third volume is intense and flamboyant if heavyhearted. Tied thematically to the idea of rebuilding or reinvention, it can evoke a butterfly emerging into a dystopia. The album opens with a tension-building instrumental, "Unbind," which sonically seems to do just that. It begins with a string quartet and a sweeping, sentimental melody that's soon joined by fluttering, slowly crescendoing noise effects. Next to enter are a rumbling bass and Ian Chang's assertive, off-balance rock drums before a soaring, distortion-filled guitar solo by Rafiq Bhatia takes over a blustery mix. The track devolves -- or evolves? -- into cacophony while hanging on to remnants of its tempo and melody. Although its volatile blend of acoustic and electric textures is a trademark of the band -- project leader Ryan Lott often manipulates acoustic timbres to otherworldly effect -- here, opposing textures seem to stay distinct and tightly commingle, like a snowball rolling down a hill. This disparate mix of natural and electronic sounds is a mark of Tomorrows III that's evident early on a second track that amplifies strummed muted strings (piano, guitar, or other) as well as pitched hand drums over shimmery minor intervals on keys. That track, "A Different Kind of Love," is the first song on an album that, like prior installments of the series, alternates songs and instrumental connective tissue, and it introduces Lott's brittle, distressed (and occasionally distorted) vocals. Through songs with titles like "Plans We Make," "Sever," and "Vacancy," he's accompanied by vocalists including Holland Andrews, Kiah Victoria, and Kadhja Bonet, the latter of whom returns from Tomorrows I's "Plans We Made." This album's "Plans We Make" opens quietly with a distant howl, warped muffled tones, and sparse organic percussion as Bonet half-whispers, "Do I detect the changes that create or create the distance I detect?" Throughout, Tomorrows III deftly juggles delicacy and bombast and the natural and unnatural with an endgame of coming to terms with change.