I'm really not sure where or how to even begin writing about Bruce Peninsula's full-length debut, A Mountain Is A Mouth. Listening to it is an awe-inspiring, humbling experience, and the near-religious feeling the album inspires is the sort of thing that even the very best writers have difficulty translating into words (which means someone like me has no chance of doing it).
The obvious solution, of course, would be for everyone in the world to go listen to the stream on Radio 3, download it from Zunior the moment it shows up there, buy a physical copy when those come out in February and see the band in concert whenever they come through a nearby town. Unfortunately, that whole process would take at least a few months, and this is an album that you (yes, you, specifically) need to hear and listen to repeatedly right away. The real solution, then, is a bit of patience, since it shouldn't be long -- if there's any justice whatsoever in the world -- before Bruce Peninsula are one of the biggest things Canadian music has to offer, and everyone has ample opportunity to hear them.
Which is really kind of crazy, when you think about it. I'd never have guessed that one of the best albums I've ever heard would be the product of a eight(ish)-piece choir that sings modern-day gospel tunes, and yet...well, here it is. From the moment the sounds and vocals start coalescing about thirty seconds into opening track "Inside/Outside", you get the feeling that something truly momentous is happening. That feeling increases when lead vocalist Neil Haverty starts singing in his gruff growl about a minute in. And then when the percussion begins around the three-minute mark, you feel as though you're being swept away in a tide of something indescribably awesome.
And if, somehow, that hasn't pulled you in, then "Steamroller" definitely will. The group vocals are epic, Haverty sounds like a doomsday preacher (particularly when he's chanting "So let's die out"), and when he leads the band in the handclap-driven chorus, it's simply transcendent.
After that one-two opening punch, the next half-hour flies by far too quickly. "2nd 4th World War" sounds like Haverty is trying to invoke the apocalypse and lead listeners either into battle or over a cliff. "Weave Myself A Dress" is a beautiful moment of respite, that still climaxes in a gorgeous bit of group singing (and, naturally, leads directly into "Crabapples", which may just be the most intense song on the album, sounding like a cross between tribal chanting and an exceptionally raucous religious revival). "Drinking All Day" is simply heartbreakingly sad. Even "Satisfied" manages to whip itself into a fervor, and that lasts barely over a minute.
At the core of it all, of course, is Haverty and his incredible growl. He sounds sort of like Tom Waits gargling broken glass, and I mean that in that absolute best possible sense. His voice oozes charisma, much in the way I suspect those of old Biblical prophets did: he sounds like he's singing about the end of the world, but he does it so forcefully you can't help but be drawn in. Moreover, he's helped by the fact he's in front of an incredibly talented group of musicians (that includes the likes of Katie Stelmanis, members of Ohbijou, and numerous other talented Torontonians) who know how to work together to create some of the most beautiful melodies -- both vocal and instrumental -- I've heard all year. Even if Haverty is out in front on most of the songs, it's hard to imagine a stronger supporting cast.
It all adds up to make one of the most incredible albums -- debut or otherwise -- I've heard in a very long time. While there are lots of bands in this internet age who receive loads of accolades and attention before they even release an album, there are few who actually live up to the hype. Bruce Peninsula certainly arrive with very high expectations, but with A Mountain Is A Mouth they not only show they deserve it, they also show that those expectations may have somehow been too low.