Used as a metaphor in most unsalvageable relationships, a cloud signifies a threatening aspect that breaks the pattern of normalcy, a fugue state wherein one is suspended between uncertainty and hopefulness. Resembling the same theme, if not a continuation or in relation, with “If” – a track from their 2012 acoustic EP, Without Delay, six-piece band Lions & Acrobats’ “Cloud” bears resemblances with the former. As with most of the band’s songs, wearing their hearts on their sleeves neither diminishes nor exacerbates the message they want to send across.
An exponential factor is how Icoy Rapadas works his vocals each time, growling along with the brashness of four guitars and thunder of the drums; or heeding, softly but clearly imploring, as he sings in silent breaks that only permit his voice to fill them with. It is not the shrilly, ham-handed vocal approach that most clumsy, unimaginative emo wannabes resort to, but something that demands full and undivided attention. “I wanna go back to just being friends / I never wanted that gesture to be the end.” The rest might be dismissed as textbook, “Don’t go, come back,” but it isn’t. It isn’t trying to be smart, it isn’t trying to be poetic, it is what it is: a lyrical narrative of a dwindling end to a relationship and its last attempt to save it.