Album Review: Bridge Farmers, Cosmic Trigger
Posted in Reviews on May 19th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Austin’s Bridge Farmers have climbed the mountain of madness. They’ve ridden the road to oblivion. They’ve eaten the proverbial brown acid, with Cthulhu, in the eye of a hurricane. And, presumably a few days later, the psych-sludge rockers from the Lone Star State decided to document their experiences in the form of their second full-length, Cosmic Trigger, released through Olde Magick Records. It’s been some five years since their 2018 self-titled (discussed here), and some of the shifts in approach that the six songs/44 minutes of this follow-up long-player presents can be accounted for in adding guitarist Pete Brown to the band alongside guitarist/vocalist Tyler Hautala, bassist Garrett Carr and drummer Kyle Rice — I’m not certain how permanent that addition is, but what is permanence anyway when you’re melting the universe to so much transdimensional goo? — but not all of them.
The churning and psychedelic boogie of the nonetheless-noise-drenched, maybe-theremin-inclusive “Temple of Eris I” and the scorching and expansive space rock jam that ensues on “Temple of Eris II” can’t really be written off as just the difference having two guitars makes. Given the sound, it’s more likely the stratospheric drive came first and then the advent of Brown on guitar, but whatever did it, Bridge Farmers are a weirder band than they were half a decade ago — for what it’s worth, it was eight years from their 2010 debut, Din of Celestial Birds, to Bridge Farmers, so five years isn’t their longest divide, and they had other offerings in between — and that weirdness suits them delightfully.
The way Cosmic Trigger is structured is important to the fluidity within and between the six inclusions, which are set up in a pattern of three pairs of shorter and longer songs. To wit, the tracklisting, with runtimes:
1. Frater Achad (5:16)
2. Street Needles (10:06)
3. Temple of Eris I (4:28)
4. Temple of Eris II (8:10)
5. Dark Star (3:20)
6. Lynx (12:40)
From this we can see that Bridge Farmers — who produced Cosmic Trigger themselves with Daniel McNeill engineering and Tad Doyle (TAD, Hog Molly, Brothers of the Sonic Cloth) mastering at Witch Ape Studios — approach their third album with a marked sense of purpose, and neither the pairings nor their succession one to the next feels haphazard. Blowing itself quickly out the airlock, the album launches with what might be its oldest song, as “Frater Achad” bass-lumbers into its noisy, vocal-echo-stretching procession, atmospherically vast and unrepentantly stoned in tone. That the song moves at all feels like a collective feat of strength for an early Festivus, but as gravitationally dense as it is, Hautala‘s shouts are loose, almost bluesy in their more melodic moments, and feel born out of some of the same impulse as earliest Monster Magnet, or a less-manic Ecstatic Vision, if you’d like a more modern example, and underneath part of the solo in the second half of “Frater Achad” there seems to be a layer of guitar that’s (maybe) just a pick hitting a string.
I don’t know if that’s actually part of the lead track or a complementary noise — there’s a drone like a mouth harp as well for a while and cacophony is the general idea so it’s hard to tell exactly — but it’s emblematic of the will to experiment, the manner in which the songs have been built up, and the open-mindedness/expanded-consciousness of the band generally. It’s like sludge rock macrodosing ketamine, numbing thought with an onslaught of swing ‘n’ swirl, and that’s before “Street Needles” takes hold to spend 10 minutes pondering what might’ve been if Electric Wizard and Unsane were the same band and they dropped a gallon of acid and rewrote Black Sabbath‘s “Black Sabbath” after jamming out its ultra-recognizable central riff for, I don’t know, six hours?
An almost-Looney Tunes wakeup guitar stretch starts “Temple of Eris I,” and the only direct two-parter on Cosmic Trigger proceeds to build itself up from there until at 1:45 into its 4:28 it can’t take it anymore and begins its outbound launch. Wah guitar, howls of something or other, a steady, righteous air push of bass, and a whole lot of acid wash takes hold and that is the course of the song right into its fade out, which is a surprise until “Temple of Eris II” walks that fade back up slowly, false ending-style. I think it’s guitar, but if you told me it was keys or actual sax, I’d believe you, but either way, it’s a lead where Hawkwind would’ve put the saxophone and it serves just as well in the early going, eventually becoming part of the overarching push, which turns past three and a half minutes in into comedown tom thud and circular trails of guitar.
But wait! As they head toward minute five, they start to give the impression they’re not done and with crash cymbal counting in, they start the thrusters anew and are off to interstellar glory once again, pushing past spiral galaxies left spinning like so many pinwheels in their wonderfully make-believe wake. “Dark Star” follows and regrounds immediately with thick but punkish bass, echoing shouts that could just as easily have been on a Ministry record in the ’90s and an entirely different kind of shove that slams into a wall before its first minute is done, staggers for a moment, then surges again, staggers again, and surges again, a last few lyrics arriving to check if you’re dizzy enough.
That leaves “Lynx” at the finish; the longest track and maybe also the farthest reaching, cosmic and mellow at first, with calmed vocals and an eventual tsunami wall of fuzz that swallows everything. From there the pace picks up to a dense-in-the-low-end, echo-shout-topped boogie, evens out to a desert rock riff with what sounds like a siren blaring from one channel to another, and a where-did-that-come-from revitalization of the space rock tap-tap-tap behind the riff. They resolve it in heavy psychedelic fashion, daring a bit of melody in the layering of guitar and maybe keys while remaining superficially furious until the tape runs out and they’re done for real.
They’ve reportedly got a fourth full-length currently at some stage of progress or other, so it may or may not be another five years before Bridge Farmers are next heard from. I won’t claim to know anything there or to have a guess at where they’re going sound-wise after sitting Cosmic Trigger next to Bridge Farmers and experiencing the acid noise of these tracks, but whether another long-player manifests this year, next year, or in 2028, or never, that does nothing to undercut either the redirect Bridge Farmers have undertaken stylistically or the multifaceted take that’s resulted from it.
In being sort of all-over-the-place while making sense in its own context, “Lynx” is a fitting capper for the album as a whole; it may not encapsulate the full range of ground they trod, but it’s got a goodly portion of it, and in the sure-footed manner of its going it is analogous to the record itself. Even if you emerge from Cosmic Trigger wondering what the hell just happened, rest assured, you’re doing it right. So are they. Just go back, listen again, and let the math work itself out.
Bridge Farmers, Cosmic Trigger (2023)
BANDCAMP PLAYER
Bridge Farmers, “Frater Achad” official video
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