Mogwai - The Bad Fire

A Closer Listen

All Mogwai albums are good albums, and some are great albums.  Is The Bad Fire one of the greats?  The answer may depend on how many of the eleven the listener has heard, as well as the age of the listener, as each album communicates nostalgia for the musical forms of prior decades.  The Scottish post-rock band was formed in 1995, which makes this their 30th anniversary, an achievement in itself.

Mogwai’s last studio album, As the Love Continues, possessed an intense urgency.  In contrast, The Bad Fire is like a steady, calming presence.  Not that it is without fire of its own; there are plenty of riffs and crescendos to satisfy even the first-time listener.  The title, “a working-class Glaswegian term for Hell,” reflects the hard times the members of the quartet have endured in the past four years.  One can see this in the cover art, and hear it in the moments of excess, in particular the confident surge in volume and energy midway through “If You Find This World Bad, You Should See Some Of The Others,” which stands among Mogwai’s finest works.  Even the sentiment makes one pause; it’s too hot on Mars, too cold on Venus, and as countless TV shows and movies have speculated, too unpredictable in alternate universes.  Perhaps we should count our blessings, and make do?  This seems to be what the band has done, as they produce the confident music of those who have been through the fire, and have been honed as a result.

As we’ve come to expect from Mogwai, a few vocal tracks are included, referencing the shoegaze music of their childhood.  Not that they include a lot of lyrics; lead single “God Gets You Back” has only ten words, their interpretation impermeable.  “Fanzine Made of Flesh” and “18 Volcanos” are more straightforward, the former including the question, “Is there any way to come alive?”, the latter beginning with the words “Hope has come” and expressing an attitude of recovery.

But for us, it’s all about the instrumentals.  “Hi Chaos” is the first of these, beginning in an orderly fashion before suggesting chaos, returning to order, and finally breaking free in molten distortion. The energy of “Lion Rumpus” reflects its name, which honors Maurice Sendak, using vocoder as texture.  A boisterous yell at the end suggests that the band has made it through.  Closer “Fact Boy” is cool, calm and collected, building slowly without toppling over, with violin-like synth taking the piece to transcendent heights. The last two minutes offer a long, gentle wind-down.  The arc of the album reflects the course of the past four years: the struggle, the reflection, the eventual peace.

There’s also a bonus this time out: a two-disc Deluxe Edition that includes a disc of demos, every song on the album proper save for “Fanzine” and the closer.  The demos offer a window into the compositional process and possess an indie charm, restoring the band to a time when they were just a bunch of scrappy Glaswegians, dreaming of making it big, but not this big.  We salute their first three decades, and hope for even more.  (Richard Allen)

The Guardian 0

(Rock Action)
While old-school fans may lament their softening, the Glasgow band swap rage for refuge as they face personal strife – and their 30th anniversary

The Guardian 0

(Rock Action)
Conceived in troubled circumstances, the Glasgow band’s follow-up to their 2021 chart-topper As the Love Continues is compelling balm