Cloud Nothings, Electric Ballroom, London

The opening salvo is a prime example of Cloud Nothings embracing their live potential – ‘Now Hear In’ is altogether meatier and more urgent than its album counterpart, while the speed of ‘Psychic Trauma’ sails around like a boat at sea, adding a restless edge to a song which already feels unsteady. It's a technique they follow throughout – exploiting a song's character and pushing it as far as possible before it breaks – but the hook-laden songwriting of Baldi still shines through even as he steers the band in different directions.

Much of this experimentation pays testament to the strength of band as a trio, keeping songs loose but never getting lost. As for the rhythm section, bassist TJ Duke and drummer Jayson Gerycz have an almost unconventional partnership – it's Duke pinning the band down while Gerycz destroys the drum kit. And destroys is the word – he's often in danger of overtaking Baldi as the most-watchable band member, driving the band with a ferocity that rarely drops. In ‘Quieter Today’, it's his sheer force that generates tension until the release of the chorus, while instrumental ‘Separation’ flits frenetically between grooves and balls-out thrashing without ever missing a beat.

Contrasting the addictive, pop-like melodies of some of the more immediate songs, dissonance arrives during the heavier moments of the set, sometimes more successfully than others. ‘Pattern Walks’, although dangerously sharp and aggressive in spirit, becomes physically exhausting during a five-minute, detached interlude. Within an hour of relentless, adrenaline-soaked songs, it just becomes lost in the noise.

Crowd interaction stays minimal, but it's glaringly obvious that each member of the band is the archetypal everyman, barely a step beyond the audience members themselves. With that comes an awkward shyness, but it's this that makes songs like ‘Fall In’ and ‘Stay Useless’ really glow. Both anthemic cuts from ‘Attack on Memory’, their unabashed pop overtones make for the perfect way to connect band to audience, with each chorus becoming grander with each passing. It reaches a peak with ‘I’m Not Part Of Me’, the finest song of the evening, without question. The dying lines of “I'm not you, you're a part of me” could just as well be a declaration to the crowd, because at that moment the line between artist and audience is truly a blur.

Photos: Sarah Louise Bennett

Tags: Cloud Nothings, Reviews, Live Reviews