Fire Next Time – Cold Hands

To fully describe Edmonton, Alberta gothic folk-punk outfit Fire Next Time is to explore and describe the pains of the human condition.  Seething emotion bleeds from the stereo as the band mines the soul in search of answers to personal tragedy and hardship.  If that all sounds very over the top, don’t be intimidated; the articulate quintet has a natural talent for translating such deep expressions into hearty song.  Their latest full length, Cold Hands, expands on Fire Next Time’s striking, gritty allure, providing a fitting entry point for curious newcomers seeking fulfillment in the band’s Stomp Records debut.

Offering an instrumental balance somewhere between early Elliott Brood, In Bocca Al Lupo-era Murder By Death and the gravelly call of a less jubilant Chuck Ragan, few direct comparisons capture Fire Next Time’s unmistakable presence.  Soft landing fiddle strokes and inquisitive piano keys periodically interject the otherwise downtrodden, distressed guitars.  Opener “I Follow Stars Not Dreams II” exemplifies the band’s vulnerability and transparency as whispered distortion effects whistle like a stormy gale rushing past a weathered cabin.  “I would do anything for you” pleads front man James Renton, repeating the line as if needing to convince himself.  Distortion runs rampant as the band’s trio of guitarists buzz over rumbling bass a track later in “Prophets.”  The track’s central instrumental bridge offers a moment of melodic reflection as a crisp voice breaks through the blanket of riffs with the cryptic, post-apocalyptic incantation, “There is no God and we are his prophets.”  

The whole outing walks a very dark path.  In much the same way that Slim Cessna’s Auto Club captivates through menacing, pseudo-religious imagery, Fire Next Time presents a bleak interpretation of a Godless world in which salvation seems far from reach.  Lines like “I have found God, but I have lost him, in one night, at the bottom of a barrel” haunt the soul with vacating abandonment (“This Is Poverty”); the sentiment is furthered as “Hands Of Time” slips further away from safety with repeated proclamations that “you are barely alive.”  When the album tempers its pace, notably on “Carrion Crow,” ebbing instrumentals retreat, emphasizing such self-defeating lines like “I was drunk in a ditch when the world fell apart.”  

But by the time “Temptation And The Journey South” hits, defeat transforms into anger, operating at a livid pace as Renton roars along ruggedly to an upbeat banjo call.  “I will find what I love, and let it kill me” continues Renton in defiance of defeat later in album climax “Black Banner.”  All of the internal torment and struggle concludes in a tunefully paced, almost peaceful conclusion with the mostly acoustic denouement, “Hounds Of Belgravia.”  What a journey.

Cold Hands marks Fire Next Time’s most polished, articulate and focused release to date.  The jump in lyrical and compositional ambition over their already lauded Hungry River Rhymes is impressive to say the least, becoming increasingly apparent upon each subsequent listen.  Cold Hands is an absolute must have for anyone interested in experiencing the emotional highs and tragic lows of dark gothic folk-punk.