A ‘rainbow bridge’ is a theme that’s familiar to many pet owners. It’s a somewhat sugar coated but pleasant way of dealing with the loss of a faithful, and quite possibly, fluffy friend. A pan-mystical concept of departure across that bridge, where the pet patiently waits for his or her owner so they can enter whatever heaven may be together.
So taken on that basis, the cat on the sleeve and the gloriously chaotic mess that Fire-Toolz sixth album Rainbow Bridge describes as a sound tracking of that very inter realm linking journey. Whilst attempting to convey that journey could have strayed into some form of pompous prog, this tale is told using surprising means. Imagine a weird broth of dreamy new age fluff, granular electronics, abrasive metal thrashes and flashes of deep space. These ingredients don’t immediately make sense gathered together in one space but as an overall 46-minute journey, they do plot a woozy arc from spiraling raw emotion towards a shimmering veil of tranquillity.
Rainbow Bridge is the story of a dearly departed cat Breakfast, a companion of Angel Marcloid – who is Fire-Toolz. The opening aggressive burst of Gnosis .•o°Ozing gives way to the tumbling sheen of It’s Now Safe To Turn Off Your Computer. However, as the track peaks, it reveals an angst-ridden heart at odds with its hypnogogic wrapping.
Rainbow ∞ Bridge births a huge virtuosic drum explosion before diverging into something between a primal scream therapy session and an 80’s TV advert all processed through countless effect pedals. As the album fans through its 12 tracks, it moves between agitated shorter tracks like dEcRePiT φ PhOeNiX and ᴍɪᴄʀᴏtubules and longer dreamy smudges of (((Ever-Widening Rings))) and angel (Of Deth).
The journey draws unfocussed parallels with Gaspar Noe’s similar themed mind-blowing film Enter The Void and the immense I Am The Last Of That Green And Warm-hued World by M. Geddes Gengras. The thought of how to describe or even imagine these liminal zones somehow feels accurate in the choppy calm of Dreamy #ex Code. Slices of sax mirror with mercury outlines and wobbling vectors.
ER = EPR ~ EoE (EP ∆ P = ER) approximates an elasticated rhythm before unpicking itself in rubbery shards. The short penultimate track 觀音 Prayer For The Abuser (abridged) is embalmed in layers of ever hazier memories. It’s no real surprise that the metronomic quality of the closer {Screamographic Memory} at just short of 3 minutes, could happily stretch on forever. Perhaps in a way it does…
Whilst the themes of this curious album may seem overblown in a way, here at OBLADADA, we do deeply understand the importance of sharing our lives and love with pets. The point also feels even more pertinent during these troubled times where we are continually reminded of the razor edge, we all walk along. In the wrong hands, Rainbow Bridge might have become a vapid pseudo spiritual mess. But whilst this albums’ overall span grows out of sadness and loss, it beams with an unbridled messy, multi layered day-glow creativity that channels raw human emotions. And somehow, despite the trepidation this release may initially project, it’s ultimately a bizarrely comforting and a highly repeatable one.
Rainbow Bridge will be released on LP, CD, LTD edition tape, T-shirt, and digitally on May 8. Pre-order here on Hausu Mountain Records
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