Midlake - For The Sake Of Bethel Woods (LP) - Cream Transparent Vinyl

Midlake’s first album in nine years lands with the kind of lived-in warmth that makes you want to drop the needle and sit still for a minute. For The Sake of Bethel Woods arrived in March 2022 on Bella Union, and it carries a story that actually deepens the music rather than crowding it. Keyboardist and flautist Jesse Chandler’s late father appears in the Woodstock documentary, a fleeting moment in a sea of faces, and later visited his son in a dream that nudged the band back together. The title nods to the festival’s site in Bethel, New York, and the cover uses that archival image. It is a proper origin tale, the sort that suits a group whose songs have always felt like they were carved from memory and mist.

If you have followed Midlake since The Trials of Van Occupanther, you will recognise the patient tempos, the woodsmoke harmonies, the way flutes and Rhodes piano thread through guitars without fuss. But this is not a museum piece. Eric Pulido, frontman since Antiphon, sings with a relaxed clarity that keeps the arrangements buoyant. John Congleton produced the record, and you can hear his knack for space and texture. Drums sit wide and tall, guitars have air around them, and the synths glow rather than glare. It is an album that sounds gorgeous at any volume, though the slow-bloom detail of these songs rewards a good afternoon with the For The Sake Of Bethel Woods vinyl.

“Meanwhile...” was the first taste, and it still feels like the record’s lighthouse. The rhythm section of Paul Alexander and McKenzie Smith locks into a gentle sway, then Chandler’s flute curls in and the chorus opens like a window. It is wistful, sure, but there is lift in it, a reminder that Midlake’s melancholia is more about renewal than retreat. “Bethel Woods” follows that same compass, built on a steady pulse and a vocal melody that tugs you forward. The sentiment is direct without being on the nose, looking back so it can step ahead.

Across the album the band take quiet risks that pay off. There are synth patches that feel almost kosmische, organs that flicker like candlelight, and guitar lines that steer the songs toward soft psychedelia. Joey McClellan and Eric Nichelson keep their parts tidy and melodic, never cluttering the frame. When a solo arrives it earns its keep, and when a motif returns it feels like a page turning. Congleton’s touch helps here, giving the record a firm centre while letting little sonic curios bloom at the edges.

One of the best things about Midlake is how communal they sound, like five or six people in a room listening hard to each other. You hear it in the way a tom pattern answers a piano phrase, or how a harmony arrives half a bar early because that is where the feeling lives. It brings you close, and on vinyl it is even more intimate. If you are crate digging in a Melbourne record store and spot this next to The Courage of Others, it practically taps you on the shoulder. Midlake albums on vinyl tend to be the band at their best, and this one is no exception.

Context matters. The long gap since 2013’s Antiphon could have turned this into a pressure record, but it never sounds strained. The Woodstock thread gives the album a loose theme, yet they keep the writing personal and specific. It is about family, place, and the odd ways music carries us between the two. That is why the quiet triumphs hit so hard. A brush of cymbals, a chorus that does not need to shout, a lyric that turns a memory into a map.

If you are new to the band, this is a welcoming entry point. Fans who still spin Midlake vinyl from the Van Occupanther days will find the same craft and care, just with a bit more sunlight cracking through the canopy. And if you are the type who shops for vinyl records Australia wide, or you like to buy Midlake records online because the local shop sells out on weekends, keep an eye out for the For The Sake Of Bethel Woods vinyl pressing. It suits the format. The noise floor is low, the layers are patient, and the songs breathe in time with the room.

It is easy to talk about comebacks or course corrections, but this one feels simpler. Midlake had a reason to make a record again, and they made a good one. Sit with it. Let the flute lines and quietly glowing synths do their work. Sometimes the most generous music is the kind that simply invites you to listen longer.