Cloud Nothings' Glorious Catharsis

Cloud Nothings' 2012 album Attack on Memory was a jarring listen, and not just because its nihilistic songs were delivered with seething rage, gut-busting distortion and feral howls. What was most shocking was the contrast with band leader Dylan Baldi's prior work: what had happened to the perky pop-punk songwriter of old? Where had this angry alt-rock obsessive come from?

Following this intriguing yet disorienting transitional record, Baldi has perfected his new sound on Here and Nowhere Else. In many ways, not much has changed since Attack on Memory; Baldi and his bandmates still employ a monochromatic palette of stormy distortion and surging rock rhythms, with a raw production style that favours live performance over studio trickery. Once again, the record includes just eight songs -- one of which climaxes in a lengthy jam -- while a bleak black-and-white photo graces the cover. At first blush, this is Attack on Memory Part 2.

What's different this time around is that Baldi has learned to use the starkness of his arrangements for cathartic effect. Rather than endlessly building tension, these songs typically offer a glorious payoff in the final minute. On "Psychic Trauma," this comes in the form of ascendant six-string leads and a barrage of drum fills. "Giving into Seeing," meanwhile, introduces a new vocal refrain in its pummelling final passage, while the last chorus of "No Thoughts" adds a layer of low-end fuzz as the singer's voice rises from a snarl to an unhinged scream.

As satisfying as these crescendos are, they are only a prelude to the breathtaking final minutes of the album. The seven-and-a-half-minute "Pattern Walks" is a sinister, paranoid post-punk groove, but rather than ending on a towering emotional high, it gradually drifts behind a cloud of uncharacteristically pillowy guitar textures while the vocals are soaked in echo.

After this moment of comparative calm, the LP closes with "I'm Not Part of Me," a rousing anthem in which the frontman finally indulges in the kind of heartfelt sentimentality that he has rejected in recent years. Over a buoyant chord progression, Baldi tunefully sings, "There's a way I was before / But I can't recall how I was those days anymore / I'm learning how to be here and nowhere else."

The choruses are majestic, each repetition more breathlessly stunning and fist-pumping than the last. It's by far the best song Cloud Nothings have ever released, bridging the charming pop hooks of the project's early works with the primal urgency of the last couple of records.

When the band comes to the Rickshaw Theatre on July 5, expect this song to provide catharsis for anyone who was apprehensive about the gloom mongering of Attack on Memory.