Imagine being enveloped by a sonic fog so thick, so emotionally charged, that it transports you to a place of profound melancholy and beauty. That’s the experience Clouds delivers with Desprins, their 2025 release that quietly dropped in January, reigniting the bittersweet connection many fans, including myself, had with their 2021 album Despǎrțire. But here’s where it gets controversial: while Despǎrțire was a masterpiece in its own right, Desprins takes Clouds’ signature sound to a new level—one that might polarize listeners more than ever.**
Back in 2021, I naively awarded Despǎrțire a 4.5 rating in my first-ever review for AMG (https://www.angrymetalguy.com/clouds-despartire-review/). I stand by that score, but I’ll admit, the name Clouds had begun to fade from my mind—until Desprins arrived, unannounced, and reignited that familiar ache. The moment the album began, I was back on that train, gazing into the darkness outside, the flute-laden gloom of Clouds’ music wrapping around me like a second skin. Desprins isn’t just a continuation of Clouds’ journey through despair; it’s an expansion, a deepening of their emotional and musical landscape.
Heavier yet more introspective than its predecessor, Desprins channels the band’s blackened funeral doom through a lush, synth-driven atmosphere that nods to their early work but with a newfound confidence. The tension between their heaviest and most delicate moments—a hallmark of Clouds’ sound—is sharper than ever. The raw grit of the metal, the mournful vocals, and the ethereal acoustic passages create a stark contrast, yet they’re balanced in a way that feels both musically and emotionally cathartic. It’s a limbo of atmosphere, where Daniel Neagoe’s solemn whispers coexist with his guttural roars, where heavy riffs give way to piano melodies, and where flutes softly crescendo into silence. Each element flows into the next, creating an inevitable ebb and tide of emotion.
And this is the part most people miss: the true magic of Desprins lies in how its seemingly disparate elements coalesce into something heartbreakingly beautiful. Whether a melody is introduced by flute (“Disguise”), piano (“Unanswered”), synth (“Life Becomes Lifeless”), or guitar (“Chain Me,” “Chasing Ghosts”), the band weaves these threads into a cohesive tapestry. The juxtaposition of guitar chords with flute, the stripped-back synth passages, and the apathetic cleans—these moments are profound, both musically and emotionally. They’re the kind of passages that make you stare into the middle distance, their pathos so acute it’s almost overwhelming. Tracks like “Life Becomes Lifeless,” “Chain Me,” and the finale of “Chasing Ghosts” are particularly powerful. With a seemingly sparse soundscape, Clouds achieves what Shape of Despair accomplishes with grandeur—an ability to evoke tears, even from the most stoic listener. I’ll admit, I’m a sucker for melancholic music, but Clouds’ talent for stirring such deep emotion is unparalleled.
Desprins is an album that demands a reaction. You’ll either be completely drawn into its world or find it too intense to bear. I’m firmly in the former camp. Like other funeral doom acts, Clouds’ music is effective only if it can pull you into its portal of sadness. With Desprins, they double down on everything that makes them challenging—the misery, the polarity between crushing and uplifting—yet their execution makes this project more unique and captivating than ever.
Here’s a thought-provoking question for you: Is Desprins a masterpiece of emotional depth, or does its intensity risk alienating listeners? Let me know in the comments—I’d love to hear your take. Either way, this is an album that demands your attention. Tracks to dive into: “Disguise,” “Life Becomes Lifeless,” “Forge Another Nightmare,” and “Chasing Ghosts.” Prepare to be moved.
