Bugcatcher – Big Field
Rochester’s Jake Denning has been quietly chipping away at his distinct sound as Bugcatcher since the early days of the pandemic, crafting slowcore indie folk that’s always been hazy, quiet, and a little existential. On his latest full-length, Big Field, released November 5th on Raincoated Records, he leans fully into that genre blend—it feels like a slowed-down collision between Midwest emo introspection and twangy alt-country sadness, but done with a minimalistic approach that gets impressively lush at times. Think Hovvdy meets Pinegrove meets Wednesday and you’re pretty much right there, save for Bugcatcher’s proprietary secret ingredient–this ethereal stillness that permeates the whole thing. I’m calling it “lush hush.” Big Field is our album of the week.
There’s a clear evolution in the production this time around. While Denning has proved himself as a lo-fi artist on previous releases, Big Field steps away from some of the charmingly ragged edges and cleans up nicely. This isn’t really a betrayal of his earlier work; it’s a natural progression, something we’ve seen successfully pulled off by artists like Alex G and Mac DeMarco, where the warmer production is just a simple trajectory and plays nice with the early stuff. You still get that trademak Bugcatcher shimmer—this record is definitely the kind that will stay up all night with you—but the instrumentation feels wider and the sonic choices are deliberate.
The title track, “Big Field,” acts as the perfect anchor for this whole vibe. It takes its sweet time, layering scintillating guitar leads with those signature sighing steel slides, creating this soft, relaxed instrumental sprawl. Lyrically, Denning maps out the numbness of a particular space, perhaps one that’s romantic or figuratively purgatorial (or both): “tackle me into the dirt / I don’t mind ’cause it don’t hurt / kiss me, pretend that I am blind / I don’t mind, I don’t mind.” It nails that specific feeling of being stuck, but contentedly so.
The singles “Hurry” and “How Long” maintain the shimmering minimalism while offering slightly snappier paces. Then you get a track like “Crease,” which introduces a bit of grit, thanks in part to Ben Combs on drums, who lets the beat swell up in the chorus. It opens up the song and pulls it closer to relaxed alt-country territory—it’s easy to imagine this one fitting snugly on an album with alt-country contemporaries Wednesday.
The album throws in a couple outliers. On one hand, you have “Tornado Come to Town,” a quick two-and-a-half-minute slice of fingerpicked acoustic that brings some of that earliest lo-fi bedroom folk energy back, evoking the close-quarters storytelling of Sun Kil Moon. And on the complete opposite end, there’s “Wondering About,” the one track recorded live “to the floor” with the full band (Denning, Combs, John Carlo Pecheone, Alyssa Zaso, and Duvante Cora). This song rewards a little patience with this swelling intensity that gradually transforms the delicate beginning into a gritty explosion where the slowcore harness comes off, and then settles right back into a Bugcatcher comfort zone. It’s just a grand, beautifully executed bell curve.
“Blue Moon Blues” serves as the closer, echoing that Sun Kil Moon influence again with a wonderfully textured acoustic presentation. It anchors the album’s city-averse outlook with lines like “New York City looks so pretty from far away / and that’s okay if you wanna stay” and the bluntly poetic “You know a place is just a place to leave.” Start to finish, Big Field is a major win for Bugcatcher and might just be a milestone moment for the slowcore outfit. The arrangements, songwriting, production–it all leans into itself and leaves you with an album that can effortlessly pluck you right out of your busy life for a while and suspend you in that trademark lush hush.
Categorised in: Album of the Week
This post was written by Ronald Walczyk