When bands start shaking their fists at writers and fans who use ready-made terms to describe their music it?s usually a case of egos getting the upper hand. After a band spent hours crafting lyrics to hit emotive new heights and cross-breeding pop melodies with more visceral power, it hurts to realize they?re just another Sunny Day Real Estate knockoff. After all, if there?s one thing that ties together many of indie rock?s followers, it is their desire to forge new grounds in the world of rock?n?roll.

Juno?s one of the few bands able to make good on the dream of making a sound that?s impossible to boil down to an easily defined genre. Though the band?s sophomore effort, A Future Lived in Past Tense (2001, Desoto), draws heavily on the grumbling sounds of post-hardcore it also takes on touches of everything from the complex progressive arrangements of Pink Floyd to the clangy melodies of Husker Du. While the art-rock ethos that guides Juno?s work has shuffled it into the same neighborhood as other melodic post-rock bands, the extra elements the Seattle-based quintet brings to the table are enough to seriously frustrate the efforts of anyone who?s used to quick descriptions of a band?s fare.

It?s a quandary the band knows all too well. Juno?s music takes on vast, sweeping sonic arcs, though they are the very same vast and sweeping terms coined (usually completely inadequately) to boil down the essence of rock?n?roll. Nowhere was it as apparent as when the band took its music to Europe, where, in an effort to help draw more fans in from the street, promoters tack on a descriptive tag line after a band?s name in hopes of luring more fans to the show.

"In some places in Europe it?d be like, ?Juno (post-rock, Seattle)? and in other places it?d be ?Juno (math rock, U.S.A.)? in some places it?d be ?Juno (emocore)? and we?d all go ?Jesus Christ! No!?" laughs singer/guitarist Arlie Carstens. "Everywhere you went, there was some kind of kooky descriptive term. I?d have to say that by far our favorite descriptive term was ?Juno (ambient hardcore).? That is hilarious! That?s it. That?s what it is! Ambient hardcore; that?s the most ridiculous thing I?ve ever heard, but for our band, it?s sort of perfect, because you?ve got elements of ambiance or cinematic music combining with straight-ahead destroying, pummeling."

Ambient hardcore may be the one of the most oxymoronic music phrases coined since "Christian metal," but, like Carstens says, it encapsulates what his band is all about just as good as any other catch phrase. Whether Carstens and his crew ? guitarists Gabe Carter and Jason Guyer, drummer Greg Ferguson and joined alternately by bassists borrowed from The Foo Fighters (Nate Mendel) and Death Cab for Cutie (Nick Harmer) ? raise a buzzing, though melodic, swarm of guitars ("The Trail of Your Blood In the Snow") or focus on more downbeat numbers ("Things Gone and Things Still Here [We?ll Need the Machine Guns by Next March]"), the band?s songs do as much to create an atmosphere full of sounds, intricate guitar figures and complex, layered arrangements as throw down the rock.

Although the band?s intricate soundscapes provide hard-core record geeks with the time to pop on the headphones, sprawl out on the bed and zone out to the elaborate compositions Juno creates, casual listeners aren?t likely to pick up on all the subtle complexities of A Future Lived In Past Tense. Carstens knows getting a full handle on his band?s sound is no easy task, but he hopes there?s enough superficial spark in Juno?s songs to goad listeners into taking the effort to unravel his band?s mysteries.

"It would be virtually impossible to just listen to the record once and be like ?Oh, this makes perfect sense.? I don?t think that?s possible," Carstens says. "If you make compelling music with interesting sounds and interesting lyrics, maybe someone will hear a piece of that music and it will touch something inside of them immediately. Like an immediate visceral or biological sense. If you can grab somebody for even just a moment with just a piece of the music, then they?ll be ?Hmm. ? What?s this?? then they?ll come to explore it further."

Convoluted arrangements aren?t just tossed together to make it difficult for casual listeners to drop into, they?re also the result of Juno?s desire to revive some of the progressive-rock ethos in its music and push rock music out of the realms of mere entertainment and into those of more high-minded art. There?s a fine line between art and pretense, however the act is painfully aware of the pitfalls that await a band that starts to take itself too seriously. In fact, though Juno works to test rock?n?roll?s boundaries, it also wants to keep its feet rooted firmly in the straightforward rock world.

"I think sometimes the music tries to reach loftier heights," Carstens says of his band?s aims. "We?re trying to say something that?s a bit more experimental. I know all of us are trying to do something that?s a little more experimental."

Experimentalism isn?t equivalent to pretense, however. "Like being an experimental band means you have to wear a black-ribbed turtleneck and have a Romulan haircut and be like ?Oh, what I?m doing is so profound!?" he continues with a laugh. "The thing is, I do feel in my own life what we are doing is profound. I feel like the music we are doing is important and significant. Not that that would ever be necessarily significant anywhere outside of our band."

Most of Juno?s experimental feel stems not from the pseudo-intellectualism of the art-rock crowd, but from its ability to step away from the reactionary nature of modern rock?n?roll. While the lion?s share of bands are motivated by pendulum swings of disgust away from another region of the style, Juno tries to put the cyclical phases of rock?n?roll out of its head.

"It seems to me that every few years there?ll be a whole slew of bands that is like ?I?m so sick of retro rock.? Or ?I?m so sick of barre chords and blues riffs. We?ve got to do something weird.? There?s a mess of bands that feel that way," Carstens says. "Then they?ll be a whole mess of people who are hearing those bands and are like ?Fuck that, man. Just give me some rock?n?roll.? All of a sudden you?ll get a shit-load of bands that will want to reinvent the Ramones.

"There?s either people who are totally sick of rock?n?roll who want to see it just die," he says. "They figure the best way for it to die is to muck it up and turn it into something else. Then you see this other mess of people who are sick of people trying to muck it up and turn it into something else, and they?re trying to turn it into kick-ass riffs and greasy hair. It?s one way or the other all the time. I look at both of those camps all the time and I?m like, it?s crazy. We don?t have anything in common with either side. We just stay focused on what we are doing and appeals to us. By doing that I think we have created something unique that can?t so easily be put into one camp or another or defined using terms like post punk or post rock or even ambient hardcore."

While conventional wisdom would suggest Juno?s quest to break away from the weird/rocking dialectic of popular music was hindered by its lack of a permanent bass player, things have worked out quite the opposite for the band. Although the pair of four-bangers they borrow both have heavy time commitments to their other bands ? which makes it difficult at times to develop pieces as a band ? its also provided Juno with a lot of leeway in many directions. First, the constantly rotating lineup helps to reintroduce the artistic fire of a new band that tends to dim after band dynamics get in a rut. After all, neither Mendel?s work with the Foos or Harmer?s Death Cab material comes close to evoking Juno?s sound.

"Sometimes we?re getting bogged down in the process, because when you?re in a band for five years, things just don?t happen fast enough," Carstens says. "Or you look at the work that you?re doing and go ?This is crazy. We?re writing 10-minute-long songs.? Then they come in and they?re like ?Yeah! You?re writing a 10-minute-long song and it?s brilliant! Let?s finish it.? They?ll have an enthusiasm for it because it?s new to them in a way that it?s just not new to us because we?re so entrenched in it."

Juno?s revolving-door-bassists policy has also kept it from getting bogged down in a completely different fashion. While the day-to-day duties of manufacturing music are lubricated by Mendel and Harmer?s enthusiasm for tackling a new style, it?s also taken a load off the other members? backs. Without the fear of commitment to an uncertain new member ? who, if he doesn?t work out, would set the band?s schedule back that much more if it tries to find and train yet another one ? Juno?s able to make music without having to make the sticky personnel decisions.

"If you just say you have a temporary bass player for the time being and they?re your friends and they?re playing in other bands, the casualness of it makes it less stressful," Carstens says. "It?s actually proving to be a lot more fun than tearing our hair out trying to figure out if this person or that person is going to be the permanent bass player. That kind of stuff can just drive you crazy."