Cloakroom frames Dissolution Wave as a concept album "in which an act of theoretical physics — the dissolution wave — wipes out all of humanity's existing art and abstract thought. In order to keep the world spinning on its axis, songsmiths must fill the ether with their compositions. Meanwhile, the Spire and Ward of Song act as a filter for human imagination: Only the best material can pass through the filter and keep the world turning." In a world where art is essentially objective and deemed either worthy or unworthy, would Cloakroom themselves pass the test? The short answer is "yup."
Dissolution Wave is Cloakroom's third album in 10 years, and one that interjects heaviness at all the right moments. Dissolution Wave feels lonely in its vast clean tones, extraneous percussion and keyboards, and loops here and there. It's a judge isolated from the accused singing a tuneful song, and the accused isolated in their homes trying backing the melody from a distance, and everyone unsure of what's coming next always and forever. Though oddly enough, Dissolution Wave feels comfortable in its acceptance of what's happening. Like walking down a familiar street to a familiar home on a beautiful, slightly chilly spring day. There's something wrong, but in a way it's out of your hands… and sunlight and the breeze just feel nice.
Guitarist and vocalist Doyle Martin said "Dreaming up another world felt easier to digest than the real nitty-gritty we're immersed in every day," but I'm not so sure Dissolution Wave Wave is that far a cry from reality in terms of artists feelings' of relevance and worthiness. Though fortunately (to the best of my knowledge) the Earth won't stop spinning if music collectively sucked.
Songs like "Lost Meaning" and "Fear Of Being Fixed" lean more into a distortion-heavy shoegaze, while "A Force At Play" employs bubbling keyboards and clean guitars to flesh out a beautifully poppy song. Then there's the closer "Disassembler" which starts out driving and distorted, cleans up a bit, and then derails mid-lyric into a contemplative instrumental with more percussion than melody. Dissolution Wave also plays with perspective, with "A Force At Play" speaking from the asteroid-miner-slash-songwriter protagonist of the album and "Dissembler" voiced from the revelator who will judge their work. What do these switches mean, and what happens at the very end that causes what sounds like a vinyl record to break, isn't clear… but maybe that's the point? Maybe Dissolution Wave isn't so cut-and-dry, as most things aren't. Maybe it's more about the enjoyment of the album, rather than assigning meaning.
At the end of the day, Dissolution Wave is solid. The pacing is overall slow and dreamy, the vocals are the exact right amount of hazy, and the world might be ten notes away from stopping entirely. Martin does a great job with his storytelling, while both Martin and drummer and vocalist Tim Remis blend their voices together in such wistfully misty way that it's practically impossible not to feel at least a little comforting awe. Plus it helps that Remis and bassist Bobby Markos' rhythmic foundation underlines Martin's airy guitarwork so, so well.
All I know is that Dissolution Wave is worth your time, especially if you're into the lighter side of bands like Nothing and Narrow Head. It's catchy, it's beautiful, and if it were up to me, would pass cosmic inspection. Now if Cloakroom could just not disappear for five years again, that'd be great.
