Normally at this point in the article, I would attempt to make some vaguely sophisticated pop culture reference to a Fellini film or a famous piece of literature or something of the sort. But as I watched and listened to Cloud, I simply couldn’t find anything within my brain to compare it to. I was unsure as to even what genre it could be categorised into; the advent of a drum machine partway through the song deems it electronic at least, but to try and label it as any particular conventional subgenre would be disingenuous to the originality of the work.
The song starts with piercing strings, gradually building to create a somewhat ominous soundscape. It almost sounds like it could be sound tracking a horror movie, or could be a Tim Hecker B-side, but the key word in that remark is almost. Everything about the song is uncanny, you feel like you can almost rationalise it and understand it, but you never quite can; there is some sort of receptive dissonance that unnerves yet entrances the listener.
The video is just as unconventional visually as it is sonically. Makeda herself giving a Kubrick stare to the camera precedes a montage of rollerblading and fireworks. A group of friends then partake in a series of seemingly unrelated activities: playing with toy cars on a model bridge, playing cards, and eating fish and chips. There is no obvious meaning for or reason behind the sequence of events in the video, they are simply being laid out for interpretation.
It took me several watches to get to grips with this video, and frankly it is still a mystery to me. The novelty of the work promises much and makes the release of the imminent EP, Venus Leak, all the more tantalising.