Midlake
A Bridge to Far
MIDLAKE/BELIEVE
Midlake’s A Bridge to Far represents the promises made by the road ahead as you leave the past behind. The folk-rock band emerged from Texas in 1999 and has endured a hefty amount of internal and external wounds over time. Key band members left the group after the bloated folkiness hit a critical ceiling in the years between 2010’s The Courage of Others and 2013’s Antiphon, both flawed yet beautiful records. After nearly a decade of waiting, Midlake emerged from hibernation to release 2022’s For the Sake of Bethel Woods, which nearly recaptured the thrilling woodland rush of the band’s early material.
Three years have passed, and the group is back with their cautiously anticipated sixth album. The 10-track effort from Eric Pulido (who took the reins as frontman in 2013 following the departure of Tim Smith) and company flits effortlessly between blossoming moments of psychedelic rock, folk, and hazy jazz noodling. Midlake has long had a habit of relapsing into tired folk tropes, but A Bridge to Far drops enough surprises beyond their preferred genre. Recorded in the group’s longtime hometown of Denton with producer Sam Evian, the new effort feels in line with the pastoral folk-rock heard on their previous record. Opening track “Days Gone By” starts with a flute and vocal interchange before the full band kicks in to back lyrics that equate the natural rhythms of the world with mankind’s personal struggles.
Midlake’s gorgeously layered harmonies are all over this record, especially on the guest vocal cut “Guardians,” wherein Madison Cunningham shares the mic with Pulido. The singles from the record hit the hardest and harken back to Midlake’s glory days: There’s the chilling atmosphere that “The Ghouls” manages to muster up, and the natural thrum of the folk-rocker “Eyes Full of Animal.” On the other hand, cuts like “The Calling” and “Within/Without” are more subtle with their arrangements and verge into stale mantra jam-out sessions. The back half of the album settles into some nice grooves overall and culminates in “The Valley of Roseless Thorns,” which touches on the band’s past troubles.
A Bridge to Far earns its grammatically unexpected name. It’s a winter album that doesn’t venture too far toward one style over another on the folk-to-rock scale, and for a band that’s seen so much turmoil and turnover over the last 15 years, a subtle success is an encouraging sign for the rocky road ahead.
