Cloud Nothings is a band that defies labels, a sum of influences transparently ringing out of every song yet delivered with a freshness that reinterprets those sounds we thought we knew so well. Angsty, aggressive, punk-driven drums are evenly weighted with complex lyrics screamed in emo urgency. The resulting effect is something raw and unique that has captured the attention of listeners and critics. Everyone can pull something tasty out of this crazy concoction: equal parts Sunny Day Real Estate and The Ramones, drenched in a Nirvana glaze. Yum.
Where the band has sold out nearly every east coast tour date, Tuesday night’s show at Crowbar was an intimate, sparsely-attended gig. The band everyone talked about seeing fell victim to a mid-week date kicking off an epically packed month of shows in the Tampa area.
Opening act Ryley Walker proved a baffling choice. The three man psych-folk act from Chicago have nothing in common with Cloud Nothings, except the number of men on stage. Walker himself is a solid guitarist, with simultaneously repetitious yet intricate detail. Unfortunately, the room was not focused on him at all, and the patio filled quickly with youthful energy too wound up to stand still and listen politely.
Cloud Nothings walked onstage and started playing without even a word, instantly drawing everyone back inside. The searing set was loud, tight, energetic and pulled mainly from their newly released LP, Here and Nowhere Else. The follow-up to 2012's Attack On Memory was mostly recorded live, evident in the sparse yet efficient delivery of the tracks off that album. In contrast, their older tracks are clean, sharp, and ferocious — keeping a taut balance to the evening.
Frontman Dylan Baldi ties it all together, taking on both lead and rhythm guitar since the departure of Joe Boyer. He paces the set furiously, occasionally glancing at the others and nodding before starting the chords to the next song. Without even a moment's rest, drummer Jayson Gerycz just smiles and shakes his head before diving into the next number. It must be exhausting to be such a tightly wound ball of energy, rolling snare ammunition driving into furious explosions of cymbal and sweat.
Disheveled and bespectacled, Baldi calls to mind Okkervil River’s Will Sheff , not only in appearance but also attitude. His nonchalant and minimal dialogue to the crowd belies a slightly surly wit. When a girl called out “take of your clothes!” he quickly snarled back “not gonna’ happen." Mostly, though, there are echoes of Kurt Cobain everywhere, vocals ranging from a slow rasp to purely primal shrieks while gorgeous guitar hooks are delivered in a nearly subconscious effort.
Standing out from the middle of the testosterone-driven set, “Cut You” was the clear favorite of the ladies in the room; heads bobbing along to the infectious hook “is he gonna work out…I need to know…I deserve to know.” The guys seemed most pumped by the epic 10-minute closer “Wasted Days,” a sense of urgency forcing the bouncing in place to burst into spontaneous, yet polite moshing.
With the crowd shouting “one more song” repeatedly as soon as the band left the stage, they quickly returned. Baldi looked out without even cracking a smile, saying “Alright. One more song. Here you go, it’s a depressing one” before launching into “No Future/No Past.” The song’s repetitious anti-melody was slowed down to a crawl, a tempo that gradually built before exploding into screams and cymbal crashes while Baldi growled out the lyrics.