The Beautiful Simplicity of Majical Cloudz [stream]

I think we can all agree, there’s great beauty in simplicity and value to be found in the stripped and straightforward. Possessing these qualities doesn’t at all indicate something isn’t profound. In fact, when musicians simplify, many times it means there’s something they want their audience to focus on, something important they feel compelled to communicate. Such is the case with Montreal duo, Majical Cloudz, who streamlined their sound over the past year to make words and melody their focal point. This decision has most certainly paid off.

Stripped down to only a keyboard, soundboard and microphone as the openers for Youth Lagoon, they completely caught me off guard, holding me under their spell for the entire set. Though surprising on the surface, this show pairing actually makes sense — underneath Youth Lagoon’s countless sound textures lie simple melodies and meaningful tales. Majical Cloudz tell stories profuse with sincerity, touching on themes of love and the death of a loved one, braced only by electrical hums and thuds. The underlying effects accentuate the air of emotion in each song, creating multi-hued settings through minimalism. In short, Majical Cloudz say so much with so little.

The duo released their new LP, Impersonator, last week, and the collection is already a new favorite. “Bugs Don’t Buzz” is literally one of the best love songs I’ve ever heard, albeit, not your typical “baby, I need you to hold me” love song. Devon Welsh sings, “Wait with me in slimy wet darkness, I’ll be right beside you, my love. Bugs don’t buzz when their time approaches. We’ll be just like the roaches, my love.” So creepy, so sweet. This is realist romance: “The happiest songs all end with a smile. This might end with a smile, no my love.” Then, there’s the chilling “Childhood’s End” about the death of a father and best friend. The repeated refrain of “Weighing down, weighing down, weighing down” hits hard, and the song ends with the heartbreaking “Won’t someone come for me?”. At the show, Welsh laughed and apologized to the audience for their songs’ bleak nature, assuring us that they were actually really happy people who just write super depressing songs.

Their music may be somewhat depressing, but they carry their heavy themes with unexpected lightness, making their earnest nature hugely appealing. Explaining his current approach to writing in a recent interview, Welsh said, “Songs became a way to say something to someone that I wouldn’t be able to say as clearly in person”. The honesty of these songs piped through Welsh’s confident, enchanting vocals and Otto’s minimal production results in a highly endearing record that means something. Impersonator is a feat of beauty not to be ignored.