Cloakroom are all about creating a haunting post-hardcore sound, built marginally on a harrowing instrumental vibe, with sparse intervals of despair from lead vocalist Doyle Martin, formerly of Grown Ups. His interjections on the mic are fractions of soft overtones in a hushed, calm delivery that places Infinity in a world akin to Jesu, Mogwai and Sigur Ros. This record leaves the listener mulling over Martin's desire to evoke the most visceral of thoughts with such an unorthodox vocal delivery. What surprises even more, is that it actually pans out and surpasses initial expectations.

"Sedimentary" focuses on Brian Busch's cymbal-thrashing style infused with the record's post-hardcore theme. The bureaucracy of post-hardcore bands these days and what appeals to the genre's fans has been up in the air for quite some time and Cloakroom shows that this sound, or what people perceive it to be, is negotiable. The guitar work evidently shows as such in melodramatic fashion. A continuation into "E" is draped with a more unconventional twist.

The band leave the door ajar for experimentation as Infinity hops into a melodic indie-alternative swing about the fragility and frailty of the world. The distorted bits accentuate the songwriting that dispels the conceited nature and notions of the world, which Martin breathes to life with an angst-like charm. "Bending" repeats this emotional touchpoint by relying on Martin's anachronistic opinion of society. He paints an imperious and domineering view of the world that has clenched him by the neck. Throughout Infinity, there's a strong sense of longing to find one's place in the echelon of the universe amid the floundering days and it emanates with such harmony.

"Dream Journal," rewinding a track now, scuppers the mid-section with its disconcerting spin. This proves the only blemish as Martin weighs his options only to flatter to deceive. The audible inconsistency here juxtaposes itself terribly onto the vocalist, whose motif can't save the track. There was a stinging jocular vibe I sensed, which left a bad taste in my mouth. "Mind Funeral" thankfully recovers with absolute ease as the closer. Again, this can be attributed to Cloakroom's desire to blend quite a few genres together and it's most appreciated that they persisted with this avenue, while not neglecting their fundamental post-hardcore framework.

There's an unparalleled emo-spine present in Cloakroom as the elements they exhibit are unabashedly potent. The nods to '90s grunge are very well-worked in as well, and it's a great entity conceived when mixed together. They've channeled an etheral hum that pounds into the walls of sound fittingly and nearly flawlessly. This conglomeration of so many elements makes it difficult to draw a full-fledged comparison; Infinity is its own thing. Cloakroom bombard in the most moving manner here, and you'd be remiss to duck this.