Speaking of Bobby Markos…

Despite the fact that Cloakroom are the standard bearers for the amp-blowing, doom tinged slacker shoegaze that I love so much (see also: Lume, Greet Death, True Widow), I don’t listen to them too often. Yes, I’ve seen them live. Yes, I already owned two of their albums. But I didn’t seek those out as much as I happened upon them.

But recently I realized how dumb this was. I’ve loved every Cloakroom song I’ve ever heard. I know they’re great…why do I always forget that when I go to choose a record?

Upon that realization, I intentionally sought out Further Out, their genre defining 2015 full-length. Five years without this disc was too long.

What always strikes me about Cloakroom is that despite however heavy they are (and brother, they are h e a v y), it’s not an oppressive sort of heaviness. There are moments of dourness, but this never feels funereal or depressing. In fact, many of their huge, crushing riffs are in major riffs. It’s a similar sort of heaviness that HUM pioneered, which is fitting since bandleader Matt Talbot produced this record.

There are moments that even approach glee, such as the almost bouncing “Starchild Skull.” Opener “Paperweight” packs as weighty a punch as Candlemass, but with an eye on slowcore and slacker bands like Pedro the Lion and Dinosaur Jr. While Cloakroom may not seem too sonically different than all of the other slow, loud bands out there, they have an ability to form engaging melodies that brings their writing a few steps ahead of the typical “Loud part, quiet part” formula that most of these bands follow (mean no disrespect: I love that formula with every part of me).

Their sense of space and dynamics is also quite nuanced, as seen in the crescendo of “Assymetrical,” which features what might be the most emotionally engaging moment on the disc, where singer Doyle Martin breaks from his usual lazy lilt and pushes his voice to the top of his range. It’s followed by the understated “Clean Moon,” which never reaches the same heaviness as most of the songs, instead riding a jangling acoustic guitar line with some angular electric jabs.

Interspersed across the playlist are also some instrumental interludes that showcase their textural proficiency. “Mesmer” features a loping, one-note loop that weaves between layers of acoustic guitars, a brooding bass line, and reverberated electric guitar lines. There’s also the brief  groove “Sylph” which is stretched into a zen like meditation across the full D side on the vinyl edition with a locked groove (confusingly so, as I waited the whole time for what YouTube lists as the final track).

It’s not all nuance and atmosphere though: they play it pretty tight to the playbook on “Deep Sea Station,” which may be the most powerful track on the record. The volume is in the red the whole time, the guitars slathered in dirt and fuzz while the drums crash without ceasing. It’s an ear splitting, headbanging whale of a time, and it demonstrates exactly why Cloakroom has become the Patron Saints of this kind of lethargic, crushing doomgaze. And with this disc now completing my collection of their releases, I’ll remind myself to revisit them far more often now.