Pitchfork

Too bad Clouds' Legendary Demo didn't hit, oh, say about five years ago before the vested title of "hipster-metal" was birthed: Back in a time when indie-friendly loud-guitar rock shows consisted of spasmodic post-post-rockers like Rye Coalition and the Cherry Valence heftily hoisting Stooges/MC5 rawk to denim-wearin' kids too young to know who or what a Jim Dandy or a Foghat was. Because Clouds' boogie redux would've fit in nicely back then.

At their best Clouds kick up a controlled chaos of streamlined punky "party grunge"-- as they themselves call it-- best exemplified by the surprisingly titled "Party Grunge", where a rolling Cobain-pumpin' Bleach-era riff tumbles and shimmy-shakes via train-chuggin' hambone beats, not dissimilar from Hot Snakes. Similarly styled tracks like "Guardian's Eyes" and "Live It For Now" burn it up using the band's frequent arsenal of note-y stoner-rock riffs but merely as a bridge or fancy turnaround before returning to mouth-foaming, methed-out swagger.

Some backstory: Before Clouds took their current billowy formation, guitarist-cum-mastermind Adam McGrath logged time in one of Boston's key influential hardcore metal outfits Cave In. (They're currently slumbering in an undetermined hiatus with members being involved in a slew of offshoots: Stephen Brodsky's Octave Museum, Zozobra, Doomriders, and last but not least, the Clouds.) Cave In helped beget the terribly rote micro genre "metalcore." Don't blame them: Ahead of the curve and sniffing staleness long before it was stinking up Hot Topics and Ozzfest Second Stages, Cave In flipped the script, trying their hand at radio-reaching At the Drive-In–esque pop and something akin to arty stoner rock.

Allegedly, McGrath was the key implementer of Cave In's stoner grooves, which perfectly explains why most of Legendary Demo's songs could make any connoisseur of bong-rock put down their Kyuss and Alabama Thunderpussy CDs long enough to give a bona fide discerning listen. (Even more so considering the totally nimble, feedback-laced, purple haze-chasing Hendrix-y solos.) Most tracks are focused-- especially the under-two-minute barnburning numbers such as "Party Grunge" -- cleverly camouflaging their adroit technical playing in an intentionally sloppy-sounding attack. But perfect and "economical" the album is not: Besides the utterly rockin' but fairly common "Sweet Leaf"-ian allegiance (i.e. all those aforementioned weed-metal bits), a couple of tracks unfortunately get seriously detoured on the astral traveling jam-out highway. How lost? How about the nearly 20-minute, ill-fitting, ill-conceived "Quartulli Dub", which drones and dubs into backwards-guitar nowheresville, complete with a-- shit you not-- interminable sax solo! Another stinker, the very Clutch-like knuckle-dragger "Magic Hater" just takes way too long to shake it all out. Luckily for convenience sake these two missteps fall at the very end. Next time guys stick to the white drugs, we like it best when you raucously choogle rather than needlessly noodle.