When NOTHING frontman Domenic Palermo first answers the phone, he cannot help but vent about the cold front that has been sweeping through the U.S. in the early part of April. "Crazy, right?" he sighs with exasperation. "It is like fucking January again." However, he is careful to not get carried away in one direction with his frustration. "Soon it will be miserably hot forever," he says with a laugh. "I don't want to think about it."

But with the summer heat comes exciting tidings for Palermo and his bandmates in NOTHING. The group--composed of Palermo on vocals and rhythm guitar, Brandon Setta on lead guitar, Nick Bassett on bass and Kyle Kimball on drums -- will release their second record, Tired Of Tomorrow, on May 13 through Relapse Records. It is a formidable collection, packed to the brim with crunching guitars, soaring hooks and misanthropic lyricism that strikes a chord with both the head and the heart. Songs like 'Eaten By Worms' and album highlight 'ACD (Abscessive Compulsive Disorder)' highlight the group's refined take on their previous sound.

Tired Of Tomorrow is the follow-up to NOTHING's 2014 full-length debut, Guilty Of Everything, which established the group as one of the most acclaimed modern purveyors of 90's-style alternative and shoegaze. The Boston Globe described that record as "a storm of shoegaze, noise-rock and slow-core, surging together into something lovely and lethal."

Unsurprisingly, Guilty Of Everything had a fair share of compellingly dark story lines. Palermo had been the vocalist for hardcore group Horror Show in the late 1990s and early 2000s before a stabbing resulted in Palermo being incarcerated on charges of attempted murder and aggravated assault, to which he pleaded self-defense. He served two years of a seven-year sentence before spending five years on probation. During this time, Palermo had a period of reflection that became crucial to the formation of NOTHING and their debut album.

But with Tired Of Tomorrow, a string of tragedies that preceded its creation has left Palermo feeling more thankful than ever, especially considering that the album's advance praise has been staggering. "I'm just happy it is a thing that exists right now," he says. "It seems like everyone is kind of into it. I haven't heard anything negative yet, so that's always a good thing. Considering all the circumstances around it, it is nice that it is going to come out."

In the lead-up to the album's creation and release, a barrage of personal difficulties have piled up for the band. Most recently, in Nov. 2015, Palermo's father unexpectedly passed away in a tragic accident. "It was about as sudden as it can get," explains Palermo. "Basically, we got a call at 6 a.m. His adopted daughter--so my 'something' sister, I don't know what that is--found him in a ditch on the side of the road a block away from the house, face down in a puddle. I guess he was riding his bicycle back from an AA meeting and fell off and hit his head. It was raining really badly and he slid down this hill into this little ravine and drowned.

"We didn't have the closest relationship," he continues. "We stayed in touch mostly on the phone. But it was definitely not something I would have wanted to happen to the guy, for sure. It was a pretty shitty thing."

Adding to the pain of the situation was that the day was supposed to be one of celebration for the band. "This was the day we solidified that we were going to do the record with Relapse," he says, "so I guess we all felt that we had finally got to the light at the end of the tunnel, so they say. But that was not the case. Not yet anyways."

But the passing of Palermo's father "came on the heels of a whole bunch of shit," including a brutal mugging-turned-assault Palermo suffered while on tour during the summer of 2015 in Oakland, Ca. He was left with a fractured skull, a broken orbital bone and 19 staples. Shortly thereafter, the band discovered that Martin Shkreli, the hedge-fund manager turned pharmaceutical company CEO who infamously raised the price of AIDS medications to exorbitant rates, had funded the label they had initially signed to for Tired Of Tomorrow, Collect Records.

It was clear to Palermo that any hopes for an easier road after NOTHING's debut record were non-existent. "There was the label stuff with Shkreli," he says, "the constant amount of time that was spent on the road after Guilty and all the problems that brings, feeling displaced at home after being on the road so long -- like you are home but not feeling like home -- and our bassist Nick [Bassett's] mom died suddenly while I was in the hospital. It has been a rough point A to point B for everyone."

Despite the litany of problems that faced him and the band, Palermo tried his best to steady the ship when he could, particularly in regards to the situation with Shkreli. "I'm not a political guy and I am really the last person to judge anyone," he says. "My track record is not very clean. I always try to be a good person, but I'm definitely not a person that judges people. When I found out that that guy was the one involved with the [raising of pharmaceutical prices], I had a really hard time involving myself and something that means so much to me, a project that is full of me, and letting it be tainted by someone as foul as that. I just refused to do it and that was it. I don't really care about that guy. I'm not here to tell him to stop what he's doing because people are doing it everywhere. But I'm not connecting myself to that and I'm not connecting something I put my life into to that. So we parted ways."

There was some brief concern about what kind of reaction Shkreli would have or if he might try to strong-arm the band. "We didn't know if this guy was going to say, 'Fuck off, the record's mine.' We didn't know what he was going to do," Palermo explains. "I truly believe that if he would have thought about it more or hadn't had as much going on at that particular point, I feel like he would have. But I feel like we kind of strolled out the back window while the house was on fire. So I feel blessed for that and hopefully [Shkreli] does the right thing eventually. He is in a position where he could do a lot of good in a really horrible, ugly world. It would be nice to see somebody do something like that."

Although Palermo has inherent disagreements with the way Shkreli conducts himself and his business, he also has grown frustrated with the mob mentality that is associated with modern social media culture. "People move in mobs now on people," he says. "But people also forget about things just as fast because everyone is so shortsighted. They are like fucking goldfish. Like, 'What's the thing today?' You've seen it happen. [Shkreli] was like, 'I'm going to change the price,' and everyone was like, 'Alright, yeah!' But then two months later, he said he actually wasn't going to change the price, but the outrage was done already. Everyone was gone. There are a few people fighting the good fight, but for the most part, the general trend is, 'Oh, there's something else going on now.' That's just people being people."

The weight of all these problems could ruin different people or different bands. But for Palermo, it was corralled and utilized as fuel for constructing NOTHING's new LP. "It definitely helps move the whole creative process around, for sure," he says with a chuckle. "That would be an understatement. And it works both ways. If I didn't have this, I don't know what I would be doing right now. I'm sure it would be something that wouldn't be quite healthy for me.

"The whole band [acts as a means of coping], not just writing," he adds. "I'm not the kind of guy you want to have too much time on his hands. So the band helps me in several different ways, while it is causing several different things to make me miserable as well, just like everything else does."

With Tired Of Tomorrow, Palermo and his bandmates worked to push through their demons by crafting a powerful progression of their earlier sound that has resulted in a more evolved, emotional instrumental palette for Palermo to muse over. "Guilty was us trying to emulate a lot of 90's shoegaze stuff, but turn a little toward the beginning of grunge, like Nirvana and the old Sub Pop stuff, mixed in with the Slowdive-y and My Bloody Valentine shit," Palermo explains. "But I feel like this record is probably the first record where you can say, 'Okay, I see what this band is doing.' Our older records did influence this a lot, but we started to move toward the later 90's stuff. You know, Screaming Trees and Soul Asylum, that kind of stuff. And there are even a lot of British things, like Oasis and the Stone Roses and stuff like that. It kind of varies, there is a ton of stuff that creeps into us."

Given the success of their first record and their desire to push themselves, NOTHING was also able to experiment more and implement a wider variety of sonics without going overboard or compromising the distinctiveness of their sound in the process. "During Guilty, we wanted to make sure we could match the tones while live," says Palermo. "We didn't really mess around with too many different guitar tones. We had a solid guitar tone throughout the course of the whole thing. This time, we experimented a lot more really because we had more time. Some of it we planned on doing, and I was really excited to do it too, even if it was just pulling a tone back on one of the guitars or slightly manipulating one of the pedals that we were using. We did a lot of that.

"I try not to switch around between too many amplifiers for the main rhythm track on stuff, unless it is something we plan on using," he continues. "Will [Yip, who produced the record] has got a handful of really good stuff. But otherwise, I try to record mostly through my '65 Pro Reverb. It doesn't really get much better than that, to me anyways. We don't really bounce around between too many pedals either unless it is something we are going to have with us. In the beginning, when we started this shit, we were like, 'Alright, we have got to get this, this, this,' and we had all this fucking bullshit lying around. We don't even use any of it anymore. The setup that Brandon and I use has like five pedals, tuner included."

In the eyes of Palermo, this fine-tuned approach to recording is simply the result of learning on the job. "We made mental notes of everything, and wrote things down. It is a learning process," he stresses. "Nobody walks into this knowing exactly what to do. A lot of times with Guilty, we didn't know what we were going to do with this shit, so that's why we wanted a lot of the main rhythm tones to sound the same. This time, we could be like, 'Let's tweak this, let's make this sound a little bit fuller, let's make this sound slightly overdriven,' and we made notes of everything. It is nice to go release-to-release and really learn what you are doing."

But, while admitting that their knowledge of how to properly record had deepened, NOTHING was granted access to a superior array of equipment while recording Tired Of Tomorrow. "One of the main things was that, with Guilty, we were using complete horseshit to play with," says Palermo with a laugh. "Brandon was using a guitar that he got from a pawnshop for $100. We were using awful pedals and the studio we recorded at was an awesome place--Jeff Zeigler's place in Philadelphia--but he is limited in equipment. It is a small spot, so you've got to have your stuff. We made that record sound great with a bunch of dog shit, but now, we have nice stuff. Plus, add Will's nice stuff and I think that was pretty cool. It made it all sound a lot nicer."

NOTHING was formed in Philadelphia and has worked extensively with individuals associated with or living in the city's vibrant and bustling music scene. Zeigler, Yipp and many more of their collaborators call the city home. But for Palermo, who lived in Philadelphia for most of his life, the city is not exactly what many have cracked it up to be.

"I'm a little bit biased because I've been there for so long," he says. "I've seen so many people come and go. I'm one of the unfortunate ones that were born there. I was born in Kensington and I never left, but not on purpose. The only time I left was to go to jail." Palermo laughs and coughs before continuing. "I've always had an issue with a lot of Philly bands since I left the hardcore punk thing. [NOTHING] didn't get a lot of credit when we were starting."

Palermo describes the route most bands take as such: they move from being dismissed as a subpar local band to some relative success that is celebrated to "fuck them," they got too big. According to him, the general perception in Philadelphia is that NOTHING skipped the middle step. "We just went from 'They suck' to 'Who cares, they live in New York now,'" he says with a touch of indignation. "A lot of that, I feel, is because I don't subscribe to hanging out and doing all the things you are supposed to do because I feel like I don't need to. I've been around and have a track record for being who I am and I do what I want to do. So that rubs a lot of people the wrong way, I think. I don't get along with a lot of people in Philly anymore."

Palermo is quick to point out that what he is describing far exceeds the music scene. "I'm not even talking just bands," he exclaims. "I'm talking about people, websites, everybody. There are a lot of people there that I do care about, don't get me wrong. But a lot of these new wave of bands, minus a few, I just don't fuck with."

The main problem, according to Palermo, can be attributed to a particular attitude that is widely cultivated in Philadelphia. "Philly has always been a crowd in a bucket," he says. "Literally no one wants to see anyone succeed there. No one is consistent with who they are either. If they were like, 'Hey, I don't fuck with you,' I would be like, 'Alright, cool, at least you are telling me to my fucking face.' It isn't like that there. That was one of the main reasons I wanted to leave. I don't want to be around people like that and there are too many there. They will sit there and tell me, 'Oh, congratulations! Everything is huge and going so well!' when I know that they don't like me, so why are they acting like it? That's everywhere, but being in Philly...I feel like I'll just stay in less trouble not being there."

Palermo ties this attitude back to the type of people who engage in the vapid mob mentality culture that surrounds incidents such as NOTHING's run-in with Shkreli. "It is always the most politically correct people that are involved in this shit," he vents. "You'll never get a straight answer from anybody. I'm better just not being around it. It is sickening and I can't even be around it. This is coming from a person that has dumped so much of the money, that I really could have used in paying myself back from trying to be a musician for the last ten years, into various organizations that actually help do things, rather than just sit there and tweet about it. I've dumped thousands of dollars into LGBT homeless charities, AIDS research, cancer research. So it drives me crazy. People are so fucking phony."

It is this down-to-earth stance and realistic approach to the human condition that has endeared NOTHING to so many listeners. That is also why it may come as no surprise to know that the band has become the subject of a fascinating mini-doc directed by respected documentarian and fellow Philadelphian Don Argott.

"I know there a lot of people who are curious about several things about what we do. I don't know why," snickers Palermo. "But we knew Don Argott and he was interested. He's hung out with us and we're always getting into weird things and he happened to sign onto this and a bunch of weird shit happened. I'll probably find out he was responsible for it all in the end!"

Argott has made himself known as a music filmmaker who, like Palermo says, has a talent for being in the right time in the right place, as he was on one of his recent features. "He just did As The Palaces Burn, which is a documentary about Lamb of God," elaborates Palermo. "He was with Randy [Blythe, vocalist for Lamb of God] over there and getting paid to film them on this European tour. They were at a show and a fan fell of the stage and died and next thing he knew, [Blythe] was in a prison in Prague. It makes our story slightly less exciting.

"But my point is that he has a knack for being around when things happen," he continues. "It was nice to have someone in the studio seeing the music side of things and then a bit of the pressure from everything else that goes along with it: interviews, the label situation, death, pain, medicine or hospital issues or anything like that, on top of getting a record done. I actually just finished the last couple pieces he finished and it is pretty good. I hate hearing myself talk but..."

But while Tired Of Tomorrow is his next project, Palermo is aware of the demand for his Death Of Lovers project that he does with Bassett, who is also a member of the band Whirr. "It is something I'm constantly trying to juggle," he says. "It is probably my favorite thing I've ever recorded, personally. I love that stuff. So we have actually talked to a couple labels about it and are trying, step-by-step, to find someone to put it out and someone that we want to put it out with. There is always the option of that happening."

But for now, Palermo and NOTHING have their eyes toward their lengthy impending jaunt on the road in support of Tired Of Tomorrow. "I would imagine it will be almost non-stop," he says. "We start in June with Culture Abuse and Wrong, and then it is just going to keep happening."

But like most things in Palermo's life, once things get rolling sometimes the only way he can keep his sanity is to grab on and go along for the ride.

Tired For Tomorrow is out on May 13 via Relapse Records.