Dylan Baldi is the man with the plan.
He gripes with eloquence behind power chords and blistering drum patterns, armed to the teeth with dead-end lyrics to depict a grey, motionless world created with just three instruments.
Cloud Nothings, like a plethora of other bands, was formed as a solo project on MySpace when Baldi could find time in his parents’ basement on the weekends to record everything himself. Since then the project has formed into a full-time four-member squadron of erosive post-punk hedonists that continue to express their passion from record to record.
“Attack on Memory” (2012) and “Here and Nowhere Else” (2014) embodied a darker tone from his earlier solo works, and exemplified how well the group dynamic suits Baldi's songwriting. “Life Without Sound,” released last week, is a continuation of the “Carpark Label” trilogy and provides a lovely 40-minute insight into Baldi's life in 2016.
However, the album definitely does not hold up to standards set by the group's previous work. Though refined, streamlined and less powerful than “Here...”, which isn't a bad thing in itself, “Life Without Sound,” after a good amount of listens front to back, doesn't articulately convey what I believe the Cloud Nothings excel at.
Hooks are less hooky, the distorted guitars are less distorted and, lyrically, this is quite possibly the weakest of Baldi’s songwriting efforts since the “Turning On” days, when he was just starting out. The record falls back into too comfortable of a space, the same one forged by old school punk acts such as The Ramones, instead of celebrating it's own pull.
I always find that Cloud Nothings' records exhibit gravity’s pull of punk, attracting even those who aren't fans of the genre to appreciate the melodic, teenage laments of musicians who are pretty much now adults. In a way Baldi is changing it up, which is righteous because it's hard to see to what extent he can earnestly stir the pot. But even his collaborative album with Wavves, “No Life For Me,” (2015) just felt like a diet-CN album.
“Life Without Sound,” however, is half and half. 50 percent of this record doesn't feel genuine, but for what it's worth the other hemisphere of the record is actually quite solid.
“Up to the Surface” is a crazy opener — a piano riff? In my Cloud Nothings record? Has the world gone mad? Yes is the answer to that, but it's probably the best introduction to one of Baldi's record since “No Future/No Past” riled our engines up six years ago. The melody is appetizing, and I've been coming back to the track more and more each week to indulge in its feel.
“Modern Act” is this records' “I'm Not Part of Me,” an urgent radio-friendly anthem that makes the album a lot better than it deserves to be. It's such a good song, perhaps one of the band's best. It's the most authentic part of this album because it feels like it was created out of a moment, unlike tracks like “Things Are Right With You” and “Strange Year.” The latter is a questionable addition to “Life Without Sound.” Like, come on, Dylan. Yes, 2016 was a strange year, I get it...but somewhere in your catalog there is a collection of b-sides that this track is much more suited for.
I concede, however, that the song is just not for me. It fits the album's style and makes for a great addition to the band's inventory, and the screaming is really well done. Like, really solid stuff with the screaming...that needs to be said. It just feels unfinished, it abruptly ends and doesn't go anywhere, even when it sounds like it's just about to finally go somewhere.
And speaking of unfinished, “Life Without Sound” ends on a limp note. “Realize my Fate” is not a good closer. Honestly, it's just not. It has all the ingredients in the pot for an epic Cloud Nothings punk temporal cluster bombing, but the stove is set to 30 degrees and the pan hasn't been cleaned from the last studio session.
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It's timid, and builds up into... what, exactly? It's a mess, and not even in a good Cloud Nothing mess you can hear on “No Sentiment” and “Psychic Trauma.” After the buildup it just sounds as if the musicians are incohesively banging on their toys, which has the potential to be awesome... and that's really just it. We travel 40 minutes up the mountain, only to close out the hike with a sense of yearning that Baldi could have delivered more in this regard.
But allow me to repeat myself. The screaming is fantastic, just really on point. I do love me some evocative wails.
And “Life Without Sound” isn't a bad record, per say, it's just not awesome. I guess it was on me to expect awesomeness, but that's where the boys have been heading to until now.
Yet, as I previously mentioned, half of this album knows what's up, and it's going to provide a great sense of perspective further down the line when Cloud Nothings release more work. Perhaps then we can look back at “Life Without Sound” and say, “Yeah! That was a killer record.”
Until then, it's a lukewarm bath — but at least you get to play with a rubber ducky.
Audrin Baghaie is the music editor at the Daily Lobo. He can be reached at dailylobmusic@gmail.com or on Twitter @AudrinTheOdd.
