Final Summer Keeps The Engine Humming for Cloud Nothings
Cleveland’s most consistent rock group returns with—surprise, surprise—another solid album.

Somewhere off in the distance, Dylan Baldi is working diligently on the guitar. As the frontman for indie rock anchors Cloud Nothings, Baldi tries out incessant melodies and distortion tones with Sisyphean regularity, in a way that suggests that an ideal, snarling guitar lick is just around the corner, waiting to be unearthed. His quest for perfection has taken him to the furthest limits of guitar-dominated rock music. Cloud Nothings soaked up dinky, reverb-heavy grooves on their 2011 self-titled debut and rekindled a similar pop rock in hi-fi for 2017’s Attack on Memory before descending into shouted, noise-rock convulsions on 2018’s Last Building Burning. Recent releases, particularly 2021’s moving The Shadow I Remember, have staked out a middle-ground in these potential styles, allowing Baldi and his band to link a few new tricks to a well-worn house style.
Final Summer is not a colossal change of pace, a step forward in lyrical maturity or an exploration of the band’s free jazz side-project Baldi/Gerycz Duo. More than anything, the band’s eighth studio album is a reassurance that Baldi will always discover new ways to turn existential angst into meaty, catchy, sometimes-heavy rock songs. As Cloud Nothings turn 15 years old, Baldi’s repetitive mantras are simpler than ever, imbuing uneasiness into only a handful of words. Recorded by Philadelphia mainstay Jeff Zeigler (The War on Drugs, Torres) and mixed by Sarah Tudzin of Illuminati Hotties, Final Summer is a dependable, giant slab of rock music in its purest form.
But first, Cloud Nothings offer up a decoy. The title-track leads the audience astray with Serge synthesizers that wander across the album’s opening minute. It’s the only appearance of keyboards on Final Summer, which gives this healthy, typical Cloud Nothings song an added push, letting Chris Madak’s whirling modular synths juice the tension. As Jayson Gerycz reliably collides with his snare drum and Baldi loops his guitar part as if he were playing a technique exercise, Madak’s work here adds to the sweaty, sunset feel of “Final Summer.” Baldi’s lyricism has often been preoccupied with searching for comfort in the present, usually tinged with some excitement for the future. “I need to be happy with what I’ve got in front of me,” he intones here, making due with what’s immediate.