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Ever get stuck in between states of sleep? Ya know, that Inception-type trip where R.E.M. feels more like reality than when you actually rise? If so…far out, man. Us too. If not, we’ve got just the thing to try and replicate it: Cloud Companion.
Now, the term “collective” gets thrown around a little too often these days. But this Austin outfit embodies the spirit of an art collective in a true sense of the word; by curating multi-media magic complete with bubbles, puppets, and altars…not to mention the mascot-of-sorts, Bardo, a towering solar sorcerer that helps the band cast eerily-cheery spells onto their live audiences. That said, it’s not just a theatrical gimmick. Aside from practicing the ancient art of celestial ceremonies, this solo bedroom pop project turned stage-spanning act sonically fulfills that day dream sensation of finding your mind caught up in the clouds. And that’s earned Cloud Companion the opportunity to share stages with former KUTX Artists of the Month Big Bill, Grandmaster, and Pelvis Wrestley.
After the sun-kissed sounds of last September’s Ordinary Time (and this September’s ExtraOrdinary Time deluxe edition), Cloud Companion continues the sequence with their new EP Waking Up / Falling Asleep – out tomorrow and followed by a gig December 4th at Empire Control Room alongside Holy Wire. While shock rockers aim to churn out nightmare fuel, this Cloud Companion release more like a refinery of dream diesel. WU/FA aspires to explore a cascade of consciousness and a stirring of spirits. It adopts the Pink Floyd approach of bookended album closer/openers – perfect for repeat listens on either side of your sleep cycle. It embraces a twilight aesthetic for a lucid listening experience that soothing, stimulating, and anything but a bedtime bore. And whether intentional or not, this record definitely falls in line with the early evenings we’ve had as of late.
Lastly, we gotta give credit to Cloud Companion for CC’ing us on the EP’s last lead single a day early. Because “Who Took The Night Away” chimes its charm even before the first downbeat and steals your senses in a four-minute, oddly-meditative mantra that evokes that ’80s/’90s transition era of moody and surreal R&B. In other words, “Who Took the Night Away” isn’t restricted to mere earworm status; it may just evolve into a nocturnal thief that echoes through your subconscious delights.
