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SEPTEMBER 2009 - Line of Best Fit - Track by Track

2009-10-04T10:26:00.001-07:00

Bruce Peninsula’s debut album, A Mountain Is A Mouth was longlisted for the Polaris Prize in Canada this year. It was a vindication of the hard work that went in to it since recording began way back in 2007. Oh! Canada caught up with Neil Haverty to chat about the logistics of being a ‘big band’, those BSS comparissons and to run through the making of the new record.

Hi Neil. First up can you give us 3 reasons TLOBF readers should seek out more from Bruce Penninsula?
I Never was very good at quizzes, but I’ll give it a go…
1 – We mean well (we are just regular dudes and ladies trying to accomplish a common goal)
2 – We are hard workers (it takes a lot to keep a band like this on the rails)
3 – Line Of Best Fit seems to like us (and they seem to know what they’re talking about)

You have just come back from touring Canada…how does touring work for you guys logistically? There seems to be so many people in the band?
Well, we trim down and puff up as necessary. It’s only as hard as we make it and it changes from show to show. On this recent tour, we were 7 for one leg and 9 for the next. We believe the songs can be interpreted by any group we manage to gather together. That could be 5 of us, it could be 10, it could be more. In most cases, the songs are adaptable enough to handle the membership fluctuation, as long as the people that are there are really letting loose.

You must be delighted to see so many people associated with the band doing so well- the likes of Timber Timbre, Ohbijou, The Weather Station and more? Do you see it as being difficult to get the band together to practice, tour and record more? Can you keep up with all the projects people are involved in?
We simply surround ourselves with as many talented friends as possible. There’s a core band of 5 of us that write the songs and plot everything out and then we bring in more hands and throats to fill things out when we think it’s necessary. The kind of music we make sounds best when it’s BIG so our band is usually pretty big to accomplish that. It happens that most of the talented folks we know have great bands of their own. Timber Timbre, ohbijou, Katie Stelmanis, the Weather Station, Germans, THOMAS, Isla Craig, Muskox, Snowblink… these are all projects that existed before, or at least grew up alongside Bruce Peninsula. We poach their members for our band whenever schedules suit it or when we think a song calls for it. All those bands have been jewels in Toronto for the last few years and we’ve been lucky to work with all of them. It’s getting harder to have those people at shows as their bands get more attention, but we aren’t concerned. There are tons of talented people in this city and we have a pretty fluid system when it comes to membership.

The sheer pool of talent has drawn a lot of comparrisons with the whole Broken Social Scene, er, scene.
We don’t really like that “new BSS” angle though. We like that band just fine but I think this kind of loose ensemble system existed way before they did. Look at big bands in jazz or folk collectives like the Perth County Conspiracy. It’s simply a choice we’ve made – to let the work call for the people it needs to accomplish it’s goal, rather than defining a strict roster of performers. If a song calls for a trombone part and we know someone that’s skilled with that instrument, then Bruce Peninsula expands. Why do we need to set parameters? Music is only fun because it’s an open canvas and we can do whatever we want to. If that means you can’t be sure who is in the band and who isn’t, then so be it.

Do you have any plans to come over to the UK? Are there any plans for a full UK release?
We are working on it! As with anything, it takes a lot of planning and relationship-building. So far, we’ve done everything independently. We recently took on a Canadian booking agent, but we are entirely self-managed and every decision is made within the band. That’s been relatively easy on home soil but other countries are a slightly harder egg to crack. We are starting to talk to people that can help and are tentatively trying to get everything in line so we can get over there by the spring time. Fingers crossed.

So….here is our track by track guide to A Mountain Is A Mouth

Inside / Outside
We got a couple of metallophones while I was working for the government and wasting all my time and money on Ebay. They’re beautiful instruments so we started to incorporate them as soon as they arrived. I’d like to use them more, actually, but we haven’t written much on them, outside of this song and Northbound/Southbound.
To this day, we call this song Mynah Birds. It has always been referred to that way and it actually takes a second to register whenever anyone refers to it as Inside/Outside. We always have fake names, or working titles, for songs as we are writing them and sometimes they stick (like Shanty Song) and sometimes they get changed at the last minute, like this one.

The first bounce of this recording is hilarious because it’s just a vibraphone and a really cheesy drum machine part. We worked very hard to make this song sound nothing like that first export. It came a long way.

Steamroller
When we wrote this song, I think everyone in BP shared a collective “aha!” about what kind of band we wanted to be. It’s been a foundational song for us since then because it incorporates all the styles and sounds we were chasing after in the first place. This recording was our engineer Leon’s little baby. He just loved this jam, more than any of the others, so he paid especially close attention to it and I think that’s audible. The handclaps, the toy piano at the end, some of the panning tricks… those were all Leon’s suggestions.

If you listen really closely in the choruses and the “greatest forest fire” part, you should be able to hear some tenor sax. It had to be really quiet in the final mix because so much other stuff was going on, but our friend Colin Fisher put down some really good horn parts. Maybe in the future we’ll release a remix and jack them up really loud so you can hear them in all their glory.

2nd 4th World War
There are so many shakers on this song. You probably wouldn’t know it because of the way we mixed it but they are all over the place. We had access to a room in the local university that was full of percussion instruments. I mean, every percussion instrument you could think of. We also didn’t really restrain ourselves when we were tracking so there was a lot of stuff to go through when it came time to mix. I think 2nd 4th is a real testament to the effort we put into mixing. Those were grueling, long days but they were worth it in the end.

Satisfied
This song is the most ‘live’ song on the record. Throughout the record, all the group vocals you hear were done live, with all of us singing together in the sanctuary of St. George The Martyr church. Save for maybe a tambourine or two, Satisfied is pretty much exactly as we played it. We were sure those claps at the end would clip the vocal mics but they didn’t. It just ended up producing a very raw and natural sound.

This is one of two traditional interpretations on the record. The original version that we based our version on featured anonymous school children singing it. On the recording, Alan Lomax asks the children to do it twice as fast and the result is mind blowing. Seek out that recording. You won’t regret it.

Shutters
We always imagined Shutters as the last song on the first side of the record, so that’s how it ended up as the fifth track. Just the nature of the song, with all it’s twists and turns, screamed side-closer to us. Funny thing is that, so far AMIAM hasn’t been pressed on vinyl so the sides thing hasn’t really panned out, but we’re working on it. Just scrapping our pennies together and hoping we can afford to press it by the end of the year.

We originally recorded Shutters in the very first session in Scarborough along with a bunch of the other songs. But it wasn’t entirely finished at the time so we ended up recording the final version a few months later at a different studio downtown. You can hear a slight difference in the drum sound if you listen hard enough.

Our friend Nick Storring came in and dropped some cello on the track for a little icing in the final stages of tracking. The song was big enough as it stood but we thought we’d take it a few extra steps with some big ass John Williams strings.

This is probably my favourite track on the whole record.

Weave Myself A Dress
This was the very first Bruce Peninsula song. Misha sang some lines to Matt years ago and eventually they fleshed it out into a real song. We knew the record was going to have a pretty heavy hitting first side so this was the perfect song to start the second. A little calm before we built it back up again.

I’m especially proud of the middle section, which we refer to as “the water”, because all those sound effects you hear are made on real instruments. The loon calls are really just Andrew’s lap steel and the water and wild bird sounds are just Maya scraping the bottom of her Kalimba. This recording also holds a special position for us because Misha recorded her vocal in the first few hours of her 26th birthday. Just after midnight we set her up in the massive sanctuary with just a couple candles and this is the take she came out with. After a very long day of recording, that was a really special way to cap it off.

Crabapples
So far, we’ve always played Crabapples as our set closer. It takes a lot of energy to do it justice and people respond rapturously to it so it just makes sense to blast it out last. Things are different with a record though. We wanted AMIAM to have a pretty significant denoument and so it wouldn’t have made sense to have Crabapples finish off the record.

It’s also always been a partner with Weave Myself A Dress. When we first started the band, we were keen to make connections between all the songs we played and those two songs turned out to have the strongest relationship.

Recording Crabapples was fun, just because we let ourselves go nuts on the percussion. There’s marching snares and timbales and lots of rimshots all over the place. My favourite part was when Steve just started walking around the studio, looking for things to hit. Paint cans, beer bottles, ladders… they’re all in there.

Shanty Song
About 3/4s of the way through recording, Leon decided he was sick of buying time at other people’s studios and figured it was time to start one of his own. Through a friend of his, he found a great little unfinished garage that could house his studio. There was a hell of a lot of work to do though. So recording sort of haulted and we all got to work gutting the place, insulating and soundproofing it, putting up drywall and getting covered in this gooey black stuff called Acoustiseal… It took about two months until the space was useable. That’s a long time to not be recording but we were lucky because, once the studio was done, we could go in as much as we wanted for the final stage of the record. We didn’t have to pay for studio time, really, because we had logged so many hours doing labour for Leon. We did a daily schedule after that, putting all the finishing touches on the record. We were finally up and running again… until the computer started acting crazy. Error messages, blue screens, all those terrible things that PCs do when they’re overloaded. We’d already stalled for a couple months and now we were facing another hang up.

I only mention this stuff here because Shanty Song came very close to the fire. It honestly almost didn’t make it through the crash. I can’t imagine what we would have done if it was lost for good – we really like this song because it was one of the first that really gelled for us and we thought the recording had turned out pretty well. The project file was riddled with errors and it took everything Leon had not to throw his computer out the window. Eventually we went back a few steps and salvaged it, but not without some serious machinery battles.

Drinking All Day
This is the other traditional song on the record and was probably the initial spark of Bruce Peninsula’s flame. Matt and Misha were asked to do a variety night in 2005 and, along with Weave Myself A Dress, they performed this song and a few others from the Alan Lomax archive. They based it on a recording of a woman named Vera Ward Hall. To this day, I have yet to hear a voice as effortlessly heartbreaking as hers.

Misha and Matt’s original interpretation was stranger than the BP version, with ominous tape and guitar loops, but the song has been with us since day one, so it was important to us to include it on AMIAM. We tried to record a version of this for a compilation very early on in the timeline of the band. There were 9 of us huddled in our little basement, clanging bells and playing casios. We recorded to two tracks, so some of it was totally unusable because we got too excited to consider dynamics, but bits and pieces of that recording made it into the record version. So, some of that drone you hear in Drinking All Day comes from the very first recording we ever made as a band.

Northbound / Southbound
We played this as a show opener a lot when we first wrote it but it was always fated to end a record. It’s sort of just a snippet of a song – we are constantly playing around with little bits of melody without worrying about length – but it gave us good opportunity to dial things back. We conciously made Northbound / Southbound very small so it could act as a further denoument for Drinking All Day, which we used to calm down a whole record’s worth of rocking out.

Matt and I were alone and screwing around at the studio one night and wanted to hear what a sort of tape-crunch end would sound like. We used my shitty dictaphone and recorded the choir into it and then fed it back in with the talk back mic in the control room. I think we were planning to do that properly at some point, with a real tape machine and some distortion, but it just started to sound right after a while. I never thought we would use my stupid little handheld tape recorder to end our record, but that’s what’s there in the end.

It took us a year and a half to make A Mountain Is A Mouth. We recorded it in 8 different places. We spent all of our money and way too much time on it. We were so happy to be rid of it when it was finished, but sad to see it go. Bring on record number two.

JULY 2009 - VUE WEEKLY - FEATURE

2009-08-02T20:58:00.000-07:00

In a new column, Vue Weekly speaks to artists about a specific set of songs collected together as an album. This week, Bruce Peninsula's singer/guitarist Neil Haverty discusses the band's 2009 Polaris Prize-nominated A Mountain Is a Mouth.

VUE WEEKLY: Geography appears to play a large part in the band, from the name of the group to the album title to the lyrics to the incorporation of running water in the music of "Steamroller." Is that grounding in the surrounding world something that you're conscious of, or has it developed naturally and subtly?

NEIL HAVERTY: We are all intrigued by the idea of regional eccentricities, especially in music and art. But also in jargon or behaviour or terrain or lifestyle. The fact is that a person's surroundings will have some hand in everything that person does. At the very least, it plays the witness. That's an endless bounty, as far as songwriting is concerned, wouldn't you say?

There's a certain weight in that kind of imagery that's hard to find elsewhere. Some sturdy, hefty quality we like. There are a lot of different ways to explain the size or reach of how we feel, but it's really tough to argue with a flood or a fire or a mountain range. Or a peninsula, for that matter. It paints the picture immediately.

VW: There's a real feeling of unity between the album's tracks. Was there a sense that the band was creating an album as opposed to a collection of individual songs?

NH: It was definitely the plan to create one body, rather than just a collection of songs, but mostly that's just the logical conclusion of a year or two spent crafting a live show. We have always been mindful of the fact that we're there to entertain people—for 30, 45, 60 minutes at a time.

We take the flow and sequence into consideration every time we play, so obviously the end recorded product should reflect that.

That said, we made decisions about the record that we wouldn't normally decide about the live show. We didn't have to end the record with a banger, for example. In a live show, we wouldn't put two slow songs at the end.

VW: Recording for A Mountain is a Mouth began in June 2007 and carried on for a year. How much of that was steady recording versus weekends?

NH: Very little was done on consecutive days. We had a couple of bursts of productivity throughout that year but it was mostly a piecemeal schedule. Whenever we could get a group together or anytime somebody had a spare afternoon to add some of their parts, we'd find a place to record and make it happen in the time we had.

It's taken us a while to get a handle on how to coordinate this band in a truly efficient way—we still haven't really figured it out—so it took more than a year to get everything we wanted to hear on to the record.

In the end, 15 musicians contributed to it. That's a big group of people, with their own lives and projects to consider, so we kinda just used whatever time was on offer and came out the other side with this beast of a record.

VW: It was recorded over that time in a number of different locations. Why not just hole up in one spot for the duration? What was the advantage of doing it in different spots?

NH: Next time I think we're all looking forward to spending a solid chunk of time in one location. Some of the recording locations for AMIAM were chosen very deliberately—we chose St. George the Martyr because we knew the vocals would shine there and we finagled our way into the basement of the University because we knew there were lots of great instruments stashed there—but most of the other places we recorded in were chosen based solely on what was cheap and available to us.

We even halted recording for a couple months to help our engineer Leon build a studio. Actually, the studio, at least partly, was built in reaction to how much we had to move around to get the project done. That's why our band spent so much time putting up drywall, anyway. We needed a home base for the final stages of our record, so we just plain built it.

VW: The record is a dense work, with many layers that weave in and out and over and under each other. Was it a difficult project to work on in the studio?

NH: Recording wasn't difficult. It was time consuming, sure, but recording was the fun part. We knew that each song implied a lot of different melodies and rhythms and we wanted to identify and highlight as many of those as we could.

It got difficult in the mixing stage, though. We had no limits when we were tracking, but then that made a huge pile of music to sort through when it came time to mix. When we were mixing, we were pulling out our hair and sort of decided that next time we'd impose some boundaries.

It was a glorious privilege we allowed ourselves—no new part was ever denied—but the same rules won't apply when we go to do it again. It was just too much stuff to sift through.

VW: The music sounds incredibly organic, with shouts and claps alongside the instruments, but those are tempered with an angelic choir that appears throughout. How much of the sound of the finished record was planned in advance, and how much was the result of studio experimentation?

NH: The extra textures and finishing colours were created in the studio, but the fundamental characteristics of the songs were there from the beginning. Thick vocal melody and strong rhythmic momentum are two songwriting qualities that we'll always rely on. Those are the touchstones we always head towards first.

If you start from there, not much changes once you start decorating it with overdubs. The aesthetics morph a bit—things sound a little cooler or weirder—but the essence of a song should remain intact with or without those embellishments.

VW: How do the multiple layers of the record translate to the stage? Is there an attempt to recreate the studio sounds or do you come at the live performance as something completely different?

NH: We generally feel that the live performance and recorded work should be judged on their own merits. There are things that can't be captured live but can be explored on record, and vice versa. The record presents a very steady-handed and calculated version of the songs. A live show is a lot more unpredictable and unhinged. Anything can happen in the heat of the moment.

We love that duality. It makes playing music twice as fun. Enjoyable in two very different ways. We wouldn't have it any other way.

JULY 2009 - SKOPE MAGAZINE - REVIEW

2009-08-02T20:55:00.000-07:00

Gather around the campfire, take a few swigs from the bottle of ambiguous alcohol, start banging worn-down pots and sing loudly, regardless of your vocal training. Never mind the strange resonance lurking in the darkness and forget about what you think you saw. If this sounds like your kind of night, then the debut LP from Bruce Peninsula, “A Mountain Is A Mouth” will bring this vibe to your speakers with all the emotional haunting that comes along with it.

The eerie mish-mash of sounds that comprise “A Mountain Is A Mouth,” all have one thing in common: a lack of restraint. From the drunken howl that keeps that the clap-a-long of “Satisfied” afloat to the punch-up, crawling in and out Zep-inspired guitar on “Shutters” (That aforementioned howl has evolved into a beautiful, spiritual pitch) Bruce Peninsula hold nothing back. Of course, how could you with your band being formed by eleven members. The limitless tendencies on “A Mountain Is A Moth” are a daring move for a debut; but they pay off.

When the record begins to tread water on throughout the opening half of the acoustic lullaby “Weave Myself A Dress,” it’s easy to assume that “AMIAM” has peaked early. But as the track awakes to something of a rousing call to a heavenly place, complemented by delicately layered vocals, one thing becomes way obvious. Trying to contain the fury of “AMIAM” is a futile process. Give up and give in. Like every good campfire, there’s something for everyone.

JULY 2009 - NATIONAL POST - FEATURE

2009-08-02T20:54:00.000-07:00

It's a little more than a week since Bruce Peninsula found itself on the Polaris Music Prize's Long List for their debut album A Mountain is a Mouth when we reach guitarist Matt Cully by phone. Shortly after the announcement that the Toronto-based band made the first round of finalists for the Canadian music honour, Cully's bandmate Neil Haverty blogged on their website: "It makes us feel proud and it makes us feel funny." As for Cully's take, he says he's just "very glad" about it. Any "funny" business is "probably all of our sort of natural humbleness or modesty when it comes to this."

The "this" he's referring to would be buzz -- something the indie collective has experienced for a two-year stretch now. Their music -- an experimental blend of '70s prog-rock and American spirituals, buoyed by the rough-hewn jubilance of an up to 11-piece choir -- has the national media (see Globe and Mail, Exclaim!, National Post) salivating. The annual critics' poll in Toronto's Eye Weekly named them "Destined for Success" two years running. All of this was long before they released an album (their first came out in February), and primarily built off of their reputation for shows in Toronto and Southern Ontario.

"I guess at the very beginning when we were just starting out, the attention we got was good in that it kept us on our toes and let us know we were on some sort of right path when it came to connecting to an audience. And it helped us to follow intuition," says Cully, who formed the band with friends Haverty and Misha Bower in 2006. A few shows later, the trio had amassed a band of friends -- including drummer Steve McKay, bassist Andrew Barker, and a revolving cast of Toronto musicians such as Katie Stelmanis and Ohbijou's Casey Mecija -- to make up a roaring choir.

In and around Toronto, Cully says the band "can inflate to 11 people," though on tour, like their upcoming first-ever trip west of the actual Bruce Peninsula, they pare down to a tight seven (Cully, Bower, Haverty, McKay, Barker, Kari Peddle and Daniela Gesundheit).

Good press has been helpful for sustaining Bruce Peninsula's morale so far, but when it comes to positive reinforcement, the most helpful cheering section is the band itself.

"You have that many people, it's like you're playing to your own audience, because there's so many," Cully laughs. "So if everyone's there and excited, and you're playing them a new song -- 'let's learn it everybody!' -- and everyone's really excited about it, well, that's the best feedback you could ever get for taking it to the public."

Haverty's blustery pitchman cadence takes the lead on the bulk of the album's tracks (though Bower is also prominently featured; her earnest warble on the reflective "Weave Myself a Dress" is one of the stand-outs). But every last member contributes vocally in some respect, and it's that blasting chorus of voices that becomes the real centerpiece of much of their work.

"The idea of the choir being an integral part of Bruce Peninsula, or Bruce Peninsula as a band itself, was really not at the forefront at the beginning. It was more like, 'hey, we're playing music and it's fun,'" Cully explains.

"I was never in a band before, nor did I really sing," says Cully, who also works as an event organizer around Toronto. "I'd participated in choirs when I was in public school, things like that," he chuckles. During the band's inception, Cully says he'd become fascinated with old recordings of American folk music, especially those in the call-and-response tradition.

"When I started to listen to the old recordings of folk music it seemed like that [choir singing] was a big part of it. It was the participatory aspect of the songs they were singing. It was often everyone's involved, everyone's singing regardless of quality of voice. And that gave that sound a very unique and rough-around-the-edges flavour."

"I think that we tried to capture that amalgamation of different voices rammed into one sound or one choir."

The result shouldn't be mistaken with roots music -- and Cully says the band's even made a point of immersing themselves in more contemporary influences as they turn out new material, some of which they plan to workshop on their western tour. But even if their sound doesn't remind you of any other band or genre, it should recall an all-out celebration.

"Prior to being in Bruce Peninsula, our group of friends would get together and sing, or just improvise music, basically," he says. "It was sort of our style of partying or something, really. ... We'd go downstairs and drum and sing and yell and play guitars.

"It's funny, we don't really do that anymore because we're in Bruce Peninsula now."

Maybe it just means that he's having fun all the time.

"Yeah," he agrees. "Fun in public."

JULY 2009 - EDMONTON JOURNAL - FEATURE

2009-08-02T20:53:00.000-07:00

Bruce Peninsula is one of Ontario's oldest gems--a sprawling section of forests, lakes and limestones cliffs northwest of Toronto.

It's also the name of one of Ontario's newest treasures--a group of up to 15 musicians with a penchant for sprawling old-time gospel/roots arrangements. The band's first album, A Mountain is a Mouth, stars Neil Haverty's bluesy rasp, honed by cigarettes and backed by a ghostly choir, conjuring images of southern tent revivals of the 1930s.

In today's climate of mounting job losses, it's no wonder more and more listeners are turning to Bruce Peninsula for salvation--or sheer escape. The band is touring with only seven musicians as it makes its first trek across Canada, including tonight's stop at the Brixx Bar and Grill.

A Mountain is a Mouth was one of 40 albums long-listed for the Polaris Music Prize, which is judged by journalists and broadcasters. While it didn't make the short list of 10 finalists, Haverty says earning any Polaris recognition was a minor miracle. With so many musicians in the band, Bruce Peninsula needed more than a year-- and several studios--to finish its epic.

"We didn't know what we were setting out to make when we started to make the record," he admits. "So the idea of us being one of 40 records... I wouldn't put us up that high. It's very flattering and our parents are all very proud of us. It legitimizes us a little bit."

Bruce Peninsula offers Haverty his own salvation of sorts. He used to play guitar in a technical math-rock band, where precision was valued over passion. "I came from a background of wanting to be super rehearsed--you played the same thing over and over again for four hours until you got it right. With this band, because of our schedules, we have never been allowed that kind of practice and it's really unpredictable. Personally speaking, I've developed as a musician because I've had to sort of wing it sometimes.

"There have been some shows where honestly, a new member has been introduced and certain other members haven't even met until they get onstage. You never know what's going to happen but I think that's a testament to the musicians that we surround ourselves with. We haven't had any train wrecks."

Haverty says his bandmates are always thinking of downsizing--in terms of musical scope and personnel-- though their next effort is a 15-minute suite inspired by minimalist composers Steve Reich and Philip Glass.

"With the first record, we wanted to make a very loud statement. In subsequent recordings, we can branch out a little bit, go in different directions. We're definitely a band that doesn't want to rest on our laurels.... We want to make drastically different records."

Whether Haverty's gruff vocals will undergo drastic change is yet to be seen--he recently kicked his nicotine habit.

"When I quit, I was really worried I was going to lose this voice, but it's been a few months now and I seem to still possess it."

JANUARY 2009 - KW RECORD - REVIEW

2009-08-02T20:52:00.000-07:00

Most rock bands, when they add a choir in the studio, do so when they want to get their gospel on, or convey a sense of something much larger than themselves. But when the rock band incorporates the choir into everything they do—on stage and off, and to the maximal effect heard here—the result feels less like some kind of spiritual graft than it does genuine uplift and magic.

Bruce Peninsula are a Toronto group whose membership swells to 12 whenever possible: a core rock quartet plus two percussionists and five choir members, with each element put to full use in each song atop often thundering percussion. There's a large debt to call-and-response traditional music from Aboriginal and African-American sources, far removed from polite Christian folk songs. Bruce Peninsula dig deep in the earth to craft something that sounds remarkably raw, fresh and new—not an easy task in a crowded field of modern folk artists aiming to juxtapose traditional and modern approaches.

Since their inception a few short years ago, Bruce Peninsula quickly built a reputation as one of Toronto's best live bands—a mixed blessing, as the studio is an entirely different setting. And yet they easily rise to the challenge, with the help of engineer Leon Taheny (Final Fantasy), managing to both capture their live energy and craft a recording with subtleties and intricacies that creates its own environment entirely. A Mountain is a Mouth may well be a Torontonian time capsule album, riding that city's continuing creative renaissance with a collective spirit that is at once triumphant, humble and joyful.

FEBRUARY 2009 - OBSCURE SOUND - REVIEW

2009-02-13T13:09:00.000-08:00

Stereotypes are difficult to shake off some genres, as the primary innovators of them are usually considered to be the archetypical reference point for those aspiring to pursue the style. Structural tendencies are rarely what define a genre since experimentation can be prevalent in all styles of music without it being a hindrance to classification. As a result, listeners often resort to classification through means of instrumentation, historical relevance, and even methods of production. The latter proves to be a rather outdated method since the definition of “quality production” seems to fluctuate with each passing year, but the other two still apply.

Upon examining a piece of music, we unknowingly become influenced by the media in determining a song’s genre. There exists some one-hundred or so proposed genres, most of them resulting in an overly intricate attempt from journalists and musicians to concisely classify a song or release. It would be interesting to see what the members of Bruce Peninsula think about such an occurrence, as they are one of the few groups whose sound can truly not be grouped into one category. Their main focal points include folk, soul, rock, and an eerily brilliant infusion of gospel music, though one is not even slightly predominant over the others. This creates for an interesting experience, something that serves as one of the few legitimate excuses for a fancily concocted genre.

If forced to choose, folk would personally be my classification for Bruce Peninsula. The genre has demonstrated such flexibility this past decade, with artists finding success in both traditional and modernized approaches. Bruce Peninsula find themselves somewhere in between the two; they express a veneration for the past with scenic lyrical content and a call-and-response vocal approach, but their infusion of other elements within the worlds of gospel and soul place them in a category where few others exist. It would have been rare to see a folk artist in a decade other than this one attempt such a stylistically multifarious approach while still remaining in the realm of their respective genre, but Bruce Peninsula prove to be a new breed that dares to defy any and all stereotypes that apply to folk music. They exist partly as a possessed choir and partly as leaders of some tribal procession, leading way for an exhilarating presentation that blends conventionalism with culturally atypical methods.

Some may say that folk music must have some incorporation of a non-electric guitar with little backing instrumentation, but listeners of Bruce Peninsula have or will learn otherwise. With their newest album, they strive to defy the predictable elements that make some music derivative, regardless of their genre.

The origins of Bruce Peninsula trace back to 2006. Naming their project after a scenic peninsula in their native province of Ontario, Misha Bower and Matt Cully enlisted a wide variety of musicians to fulfill a stylistic vision that could only be accomplished through a precise selection process. The dozen or so members that accompany Bruce Peninsula when at its fullest are all fine surveyors of the band’s target genres: folk, soul, and gospel. The female members often make up a haunting choir of sorts, backing the coarsely invigorating vocals of Neil Haverty. Bower also occasionally serves as the female lead, making her mark with quick but extremely effective moments in tracks like “2nd 4th World War” and “Weave Myself a Dress”, the latter in which she stars as a sympathetic protagonist stricken by loneliness and grief. Considering her powerful, trembling vocals on tracks like this, I feel that the Bruce Peninsula’s full-length debut, A Mountain Is a Mouth, may have benefitted from seeing more of her voice. Still, with a uniquely captivating voice like Haverty’s taking the lead, it is a tough decision to make. Regardless though, the album hits all the right marks with its wide range of emotions. Whether it is Haverty’s bluesy howl toward the end of the breathtaking opener “Inside/Outside” or the ceaseless action of percussion on the energetic “Crabapples”, A Mountain Is a Mouth is full of ardent moments diverse enough to captivate a listener for months on end.

The aforementioned “Weave Myself a Dress” also tends to serve as a consummate example of Bruce Peninsula’s tonal and emotional diversity. Bower initially guides her crackling voice over a pair of acoustic guitars and a twinkling keyboard, with an eerie string-like effect in the distance providing a striking backdrop over her longing lyrics. The track continues like this for several minutes before near-ambience takes over. Bower then lets out a howl over this phased ambiance, allowing the soft strumming of an acoustic guitar to answer in response. When she lets out another one, two guitars become involved. Eventually, the melody seamlessly shifts into a joyous choir of sorts as Bower’s voice remains distinct over a unisex chorus. To check out Haverty’s tremendous vocal power, one should look no farther than “Shutters”. This powerful effort begins with a similarly accompanying choir as Haverty trembles, “Like water from a whale spout, the spray unveils its crown.” As strings can be heard building up in the background, the listener can sense impending turbulence. When the volatile rhythm section collides abruptly with a series of guitars, the track intensifies to a level of irresistibility. Haverty either sounds like a deranged madman or a brilliant preacher, with his accomplice of choirs hitting the notes that his musky voice cannot. The track becomes somewhat serene during the middle, but then follows it up with an even more grandiose setting than the introduction. Such tactful precision is what makes Bruce Peninsula so special, and it is a sentiment expressed brilliantly on A Mountain Is a Mouth.

FEBRUARY 2009 - MONTREAL MIRROR - REVIEW

2009-02-09T08:38:00.001-08:00

This 10-piece Toronto band makes traditional bangers, moaners, ballads and bluesers, with one stomping foot in roots (from plainly sung folk to clanging choral music), the other grounded at the crossroads of rigid indie rock and free post-rock. Lead vocalist Neil Haverty emits a gruff warmth complemented by the coo of co-singer Misha Bower and an all-female back-up choir, while acoustic and electric guitars roll alongside, and drums (used sparingly) build from a mere beat to a thunderous crash. As the tourism site for the band’s namesake (a little piece of Ontario between Georgian Bay and Lake Huron) says, “There is no end to the worlds you can discover in this wondrous place.”

FEBRUARY 2009 - METRO - FEATURE

2009-02-06T07:46:00.001-08:00

With its seven-voice choir, dancing African guitars, chain-gang rhythms and prog-rock leanings, Bruce Peninsula is an unlikely convergence of sound.

If you listen closely between the call-and-response vocals, you can pick out the glockenspiel, tube bells, hammered dulcimer, washboard, vibraphone, timbale, marimba or even the karimba.

Just when you think you’ve got this 11-piece Toronto band pegged as some bizarre tribute to old time gospel, the two guitars, bass player and drummer fly off on a proggy tangent that wouldn’t be out of place on an old Jethro Tull record.

And at the heart of it all is hulking frontman Neil Haverty. He possesses a gravelly growl powerful enough to cement the band’s diverse elements together.

The band had its genesis when Haverty befriended Matt Cully and Misha Bower, two music fans immersed in the Appalachian Folkway recordings of Alan Lomax. They started experimenting with gospel and chain-gang songs. Friends were called in to provide extra voices.

Haverty, who is often joined by Bower on lead vocals, stresses that Bruce Peninsula is a collective.

“The truth is that there are five of us who actively contribute to the songwriting in the band,” he says.

The proggy elements came to fruition when Haverty introduced an old friend from Hamilton, Ont., Steve McKay, to the band. McKay had completed his classical music studies at Queen’s University where he had also developed a strong reputation as a rock drummer. When Bruce Peninsula needed a new drummer, he answered the call, bringing with him a love for ‘70s British prog rock.

“The prog stuff was going to happen anyways,” McKay says. “I was always a fan of Jethro Tull, King Crimson and Yes.”

The unlikely mix had the critics frothing more than a month before the official release of Bruce Peninsula’s debut album, A Mountain Is A Mouth.

“The buzz is like nothing I’ve experienced in my life,” McKay says about the over-the-top reviews. “It’s kind of overwhelming.”

(note this is the same writer as the Spec article, so it's sort of just rejigged!)

FEBRUARY 2009 - CHROMEWAVES - LIVE REVIEW

2009-02-06T07:45:00.001-08:00

Please understand, as much as I like them, I have no desire to make write-ups on Bruce Peninsula a weekly feature. However, their in-store performance at Soundscapes on Wednesday night to mark the release of A Mountain Is A Mouth merited a little more than cursory, “hey Bruce Peninsula played an in-store it was great let’s see what else is going on”.

Typically, in-stores involve a minimal setup - say acoustic guitar and mic into a PA - and a handful of songs, hopefully just enough to entice folks to buy a CD or attend a concert. And Bruce Peninsula did indeed invite the packed store to buy their album - cannily, the band set up across the width of the entire store and thus prevented anyone from being able to buy a CD from any other local independent artist - or a ticket to their February 22 show at the Polish Combatants Hall, but as far as the performance went there were no half-measures. The full band was in attendance - 10 members strong, though some different faces from when I saw them last - and they came equipped with electric guitars and drums (though just individual drums rather than full kits), intent on delivering almost a complete and proper show and demonstrating for those who hadn’t seen them before, the full power of the Bruce Peninsula live experience.

Their set ran almost 40 minutes, culminating in a stunning double-take of “Weave Myself A Dress” - double because it was being filmed for the Camera Music series on aux.tv - and to thank the audience for sitting through the same song twice (though really, we should have been thanking them) the band moved the drums into the middle of the audience for a rousing, pounding finale of “Crabapples”. A headshakingly good performance - isn’t it great/scary when bands you already expect the world from still manage to raise the bar? And I promise this’ll be the last BP-led post until their February 22 show. Unless it’s not.

FEBRUARY 2009 - HOUR - FEATURE

2009-02-05T10:01:00.000-08:00

Toronto collective Bruce Peninsula has taken the slow and steady approach to the art and business of being a band. Formed back in 2006 by Misha Bower and Matt Cully, the group makes music that has grown beyond its initial inspiration (the Alan Lomax archives of the American Deep South spirituals and work songs) to what it is today: a near indescribable and rousing potpourri of prog, gospel, folk, rock, pop and country.

The big band now holds 10-plus players, including a bone-chilling, hand-clapping lady choir that will have you sharin' hallucinations with the Lord up above. Bruce Peninsula's debut independent release, A Mountain Is a Mouth, has just dropped for your listening pleasure. We caught up with Matt Cully...

Hour: How much is the band still a vision of the two founding members, and how much does the full band come into play?

Matt Cully: From the beginning, our band has been constantly evolving. While our first show was just Misha and I, our second included several people who are still involved with the band including Neil Haverty [lead vocals], who quickly joined the writing team, and Kari Peddle, who remains our only original choir member. Although Misha and I had a basic idea about what kind of music we wanted to make, the Bruce Peninsula of AMIAM has been the result of a consistently fruitful collaboration involving each new member.

Hour: The production values on the record sound almost timeless, but the music itself encapsulates sounds from the past, present and future.

Cully:I think we are living in a time that is consciously breaking down the idea of history as a linear progression. As music junkies in search of a fix, we have not only the history of recorded music to sort through, but traditions from various cultures around the world that have yet to influence what's happening locally. Throw in the sounds of the city or the aural environment of where you come from and you have all the factors available to create new and exciting combinations of form and style. For each song we try to hone in on a few basic ideas that serve as the skeleton, and then flesh out diverse ideas with all kinds of sonic experiments.

Hour: What are the membership requirements for Bruce Peninsula?

Cully: Everyone that is in Bruce Peninsula started off as a friend of ours or was in a band we admired. The real requirement is a great voice, a positive attitude and enthusiasm for the music. We're currently closed for applications however. Sorry.

FEBRUARY 2009 - OTTAWA XPRESS - FEATURE

2009-02-05T09:58:00.000-08:00

Listening to Bruce Peninsula did not make me find God, but despite being an adamant atheist, it kind of made me want to. This is a fairly typical reaction to the gospel-inspired music of the Toronto-based, seven-member collective.

"Spiritual" is the number-one adjective used to describe Bruce Peninsula's hauntingly emotive sound in the Canadian music press - an apt word choice. The band's signature use of choir vocals may be the precocious culprit.

"Once you figure out the heart of the band - the ideal mood and emotion - you can set that to any genre of music and it will still come out sounding like your band," says Neil Haverty, a core member and guitarist.

For Bruce Peninsula, that ideal mood is the tightly knit harmonic group vocals that pervade their entire repertoire and which sounds most impressive in concert - especially in the favoured, acoustic environs of churches. Most of the press coverage surrounding Bruce Peninsula has focused on their awe-inspiring live performances, but the band's recently released debut album, A Mountain Is a Mouth, should not go ignored. In fact, it is already starting to garner some Polaris Prize buzz.

There may not be any traces of deities on A Mountain Is a Mouth - at least not for atheists - but because the band took over a year to meticulously exploit the many melodies present in their well-rehearsed songs, there may be other relics to be discovered.

"People say, 'Sometimes I listen to the record and I swear I heard an organ on this one song,'" says Haverty. "You didn't hear an organ. The clash of all the instruments together is producing a sort of phantom melody."

If the criteria for the next Polaris Prize winner included the ability to produce phantom sounds - which it should - Bruce Peninsula is undoubtedly the winner. On second thought, they deserve the prize anyway.

FEBRUARY 2009 - CBC R3 - REVIEW

2009-02-05T09:57:00.000-08:00

It's safe to say that, among critics in Canada any way, A Mountain is a Mouth is one of the most anticipated records of 2009 and it certainly was worth the wait. Inspired by folk and gospel field recordings of traditional songs, Bruce Peninsula essentially began by tapping into these old world sounds and reinterpreting them. In tracing the roots of this music, they discovered the impassioned paths that led to jazz and punk as well--the freedom that amalgamating inclusive, collective invention and musical proficiency enables. So, while they may swell to a seemingly unruly eight or ten or twelve-piece band, with gorgeous, overwhelming male and female voices bolstering intricate guitar lines and stomping, off-kilter rhythms, Bruce Peninsula are sharply aware of every haunting note they create.

As likely to recall recordings by Alan Lomax or Harry Smith, as they are Burn Rome in a Dream or Constantines, these new songs by Bruce Peninsula are dark and powerful, making A Mountain is a Mouth one of the most promising debuts I've heard in a long, long time. It's the antidote to indifference, a compelling call to arms that bridges disparate musical styles (and, hopefully listeners) with effortless grace.

FEBRUARY 2009 - SOUNDSCAPES - REVIEW

2009-02-05T09:54:00.000-08:00

Anyone who has had the opportunity to see Toronto's Bruce Peninsula play live knows the power this group holds. Their sheer performance energy has, of late, been entrancing live audiences all over the city and beyond. At first listen, A Mountain Is A Mouth may not seem to do this experience justice, limited as it is by its own static medium. Still, standout tracks like "Weave Myself A Dress" and "Crabapples" showcase the subtleties in the band's characteristically engaging songwriting, raw lead vocals, and massive yet meticulous choral arrangements. Branching out with this release from their beginnings adapting traditional folk songs, these original compositions are a lively new take on an old, beloved sound.

FEBRUARY 2009 - PITCHFORK - TRACK PREVIEW

2009-02-03T16:35:00.000-08:00

Named after an Ontario landmass teeming with rambunctious flora and fauna (including homosapiens on holiday), Bruce Peninsula-- the band-- is a formidable force of nature in its own right. Think hurricane, earthquake, or the kind of thunderstorm that makes you crawl under the bed with your blankie. Or, more to the point: the communal quasi-religious fervor of Arcade Fire, the Polyphonic Spree, Bodies of Water and The Mae Shi.

With a bruised shout reminiscent of Peter Gabriel's, Neil Haverty leads the dozen-member Toronto collective, including an all-female choir and an art-rocking instrumental section. "Crabapples"-- like the other tracks on their rollercoastering Mountain and a Mouth LP-- is inspired by folklorist Alan Lomax's century-old roots music archives. Over the course of two-and-a-half gut-punching, foot-stomping minutes, Haverty plays tent-revival preacher to the hilt, hollering "You can't survive on just crabapples" to a cacophonous martial parade of beats, and the choir belts back what sounds like, "Tastes just fine to me!" Doesn't really matter what they're offering-- you can't help but bite.

FEBRUARY 2009 - TORONTOIST - REVIEW

2009-02-03T16:34:00.000-08:00

Bruce Peninsula knows how to keep a city of music fans waiting.

Forming the core of the group in 2006, beginning recording for their full-length in summer 2007, and releasing only a 7" of traditional songs in July 2008, any of the band's spare time throughout was spent honing their gigantic live show on comparably tiny stages to much acclaim, setting the expectations for the in-the-works album intimidatingly high. Recorded in churches, schools, garages, and—get this—actual studios, A Mountain Is A Mouth makes its physical debut today, after it was prematurely released digitally by the also-antsy band in December.

From its twelve-member roster (and a handful of cameos), A Mountain Is A Mouth bleeds big songs in minor keys. The vocal amalgamation of Bruce Peninsula's trademark all-female choir (Misha Bower, Katie Stelmanis, Kari Peddle, now-former member Isla Craig, and local darlings Ohbijou's Casey Mecija, plus others, on occasion) is the true focus; avoiding potentially dangerous novelty territory, the resonant voices respond to frontman Neil Haverty's gravelly calls, shouting their restlessness ("Satisfied"), affirming their principles ("Crabapples"), and overall creating a pomp and clatter made to fill big, empty spaces. Finding their inspiration in traditional American music, the instrumentally sparse gospel/folk/blues arrangements are contemporized by jerky post-punk guitars and anchored by the kite-string percussion of Steve McKay, Maya Postepski, and Leon Taheny (who doubles as producer and moonlights as a Mountain with Sebastian Grainger), giving the choral voices all the room they need to soar and reeling them back in when it's time to come down.

The valleys don't quite live up to the peaks, but even the tracks that aren't obviously as huge find their depth; on "Weave Myself A Dress," group co-founder Bower is a singular voice, but even in the initial quiet wavering, she sounds strong. By the end of the track her choir chimes in, taking the song and the album to new, pretty, optimistic reaches. Even in its darkest, most haunting moments, A Mountain Is A Mouth stirs something very uplifting inside; singing from the soul, hoping to reach part of yours. Toronto's multi-member collective club may not have much room left in it, but Bruce Peninsula are just fine doing things on their (collective) own.

FEBRUARY 2009 - GUELPH MERCURY - LIVE REVIEW

2009-02-03T16:32:00.000-08:00

Bruce Peninsula took the stage next. And when they take a stage, they take the whole thing. Like... damn. That's a lot of people. Eleven, in fact. They had a solid enough set, and if the female vocals seemed a little overpowered by everything else, they shone through when it counted. Misha Bower... how can I put this? When Misha Bower opens her mouth, the last thing you expect to hear is the powerful, husky wail that drives many of these songs. Like Lift Em Up/Jack Can I Ride, two of the three traditional songs from the BP 7" released last July. She just effortlessly steals the show with her raw silk voice. It's the same thing on Weave Myself a Dress and Crabapples, which they sang to close out the show. They had a false start with the song, but recovered quickly. Maybe to make up for the screwup, they seemed to call forth some demons of rock and roll for an inspired end to their set. Neil Haverty was writhing like he was possessed and singing like it, too. I love watching musicians who are caught up in the moment and passionate about what they do.

(and below are words from the preview, posted on the same blog)

The actual Bruce Peninsula is sprawling, graceful and studded with unenhanced, eclectic beauty. So it's not surprising that Bruce Peninsula took their name from the place, because they are the same deal. They perform fiery, call and response spirituals that span the spectrum of music, from bluesy gospel to searching prog. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking: "weird." But give it a listen. Soon you will be thinking "Amazing." The choir is lead by Neil Haverty's whisky-soaked old-timey preacher growl. His voice is commanding, arresting. I don't know what else to say. His gruff rumble, when combined with the soaring female vocals, blows my mind.

They sing this song, Weave Myself a Dress that is just.... gorgeous. It's like slipping a hand-knit sweater over your head and feeling every stitch, every thread. Starting out lazy and almost weary with Mischa Bowers' easy, husky rasp, a wave of sound rolls over her in the middle of the song. It immediately dives down to nothing and then builds and builds until it's washing over you and surging ahead into the shouting furor of Crabapples, which I think is my favourite song from their album, A Mountain Is a Mouth, available online now from Zunior and in stores Feb. 3. You can also stream it on CBC Radio 3.

Consider their show at Vinyl tomorrow night a sneak peek. Everything I've read about the Bruce Peninsula says "The album's great, but you should see them live." I just might have to. They reinforce the idea that the mightiest instrument is the human voice and I like that. I like it a lot.

FEBRUARY 2009 - HEROHILL - REVIEW

2009-02-03T16:29:00.000-08:00

Unlike a lot of the blog world, I let this record marinate slowly and only listened to it a few times in December and January and to be honest the first few listens didn’t blow me away like their 7” did. I certainly enjoyed the songs on AMisM, but I wanted to make sure I didn’t rush to judgment and took the time to embrace the subtleties and varying emotions, not just the thumping percussion and soulful choral hollering. It’s almost impossible to ignore the ragged epics the collective pens - Steamroller and Crabapples could shake the dead back to life - but there is a depth to these songs that shouldn’t be overlooked.

Subtleties are not what you might expect from a ten-piece collective led dominated by hand claps and the gravelly growl of Neil Haverty, but the soft touch the band adds to the record really helps the band (and the listener) keep one foot on the ground during the soaring, surging chaos. A perfect example is how they balance the hand clapping, tub thumping energy that ends Satisfied with the surprisingly delicate, uplifting introduction of Shutters. You’d never expect it, but the clarity and tranquility hit as hard as any percussive beat on the record.

I’ve read tons of reviews calling the listening experience religious or spiritual but to me, the band strips away the need for prayer and floods your soul with a much more important feeling; inspiration. Instead of looking to the heavens or hoping someone else can save you, Bruce Peninsula makes you feel you can overcome anything on your own. As the peaceful sounds of Weave Myself a Dress slowly pick up momentum with a gentle foot stomp, marching band drum and a choir, you feel a surge inside your body that makes you feel like you can fly. Even when the band lets you hit rock bottom (the bleak Drink All Day) they lift you back up with the workman like Northbound/Southbound.

A Mountain is a Mouth doesn’t hit as hard as Lift Em Up or Jack, Can I Ride, but really, you wouldn’t want it to. Instead Bruce Peninsula creates emotional valleys that give the record a timely reality, but follow them up with soaring epics that inspire you to keep going, and that might just make this one of the most important records you’ll hear this year.

JANUARY 2009 - CHROMEWAVES - FEATURE

2009-01-30T08:24:00.001-08:00

When you’ve become gotten to know a band exclusively through their live performances, it can be difficult to accept them as a recorded entity. Especially so when the band in a live setting possess a sort of elemental energy that you can’t imagine being done justice in a studio environment. This was the case with Toronto’s Bruce Peninsula, who made a serious impression with a series of shows back in 2007 which established the band, ten members deep when at full strength, as a potent new force on the local music scene.

A listen to their first recorded output last Summer - a 7″ of traditional folk recordings - verified that they’d somehow managed to capture their sonic potency, but it took some time with their debut album A Mountain Is A Mouth - out on Tuesday - to confirm that they’d really made a record that fulfilled all the expectations that had accumulated since August of 2007. And they have.

Mountain seems to have been crafted to emulate nothing less than a massive gathering storm. Opener “Inside/Outside” coalesces from a gentle, ghostly breeze into an ominous stomp whose energy remains mostly unrelenting through the whole of side one. Pounding yet surprisingly nimble percussion alongside singer Neil Haverty’s gruff field holler provides the foundation from which the choir’s angelic voices rise. And these aren’t the touchy-feely kind of angels - they’re the flaming sword-wielding kind. But for all the effectiveness of their sound and fury, it’s the eye of the storm - the delicate “Weave Myself A Dress” - that really pulls it all together. Misha Bower’s weary-beyond-her-years vocals are devastatingly vulnerable in contrast to tumult that surrounds them. The song provides a brief but essential respite before the winds again begin to whip.

The other revelation of the album is how solid the songwriting is. By choosing to work in such an old sort of blues/gospel/folk aesthetic, the band had to face the conundrum of how to sound authentic and yet still bring something new to the table and it’s saying something that the two traditional songs they’ve included in the set fit seamlessly with the original material. It’d have been easy enough to just rely on the intensity of their delivery to impress, but they’ve still taken the time to create something richly melodic and with real depth. It’s safe to say that A Mountain Is A Mouth is most unlike anything else you’ll hear this year, and for that reason alone it’s worth your attention. And if you need another, I’ll throw in the fact that it’s excellent.

Bruce Peninsula play the Horseshoe tomorrow night in support of The Tom Fun Orchestra, play an in-store at Soundscapes on February 4 to mark the album’s release and do a proper record release show on February 22 at the Polish Combatants Hall. You can miss one, or even two of these shows. But miss all three? Not an option. Exclaim documents the formation and formulation of the band, they talk to NOW about the process of capturing their sound on tape and there’s further interviews over at Echo and The Hamilton Spectator.

JANUARY 2009 - BILLBOARD - FEATURE

2009-01-29T13:28:00.000-08:00

Neil Haverty isn’t exactly sure where his band Bruce Peninsula fits in the context of Canadian music. The singer’s blues howl, coupled with the band’s grandiose choir-meets-Polyphonic-Spree tendencies make Bruce Peninsula decidedly unique in a market used to noisy guitars and sing-song vocals.

“We are a group of friends all coming from scattered suburbs,” Haverty says from his day job at
distributor Outside Music. “We came together in a completely organic way. It was important for us not to play to one specific thing.”

So there are elements of old-time blues, Tom Waits-style artiness and modern indie rock all incorporated in the band’s debut, “A Mountain Is a Mouth,” released Feb. 3 on the act’s own Bruce Trail Records.

Haverty says the group, which on occasion has included up to 15 individuals but has a core of five
members, wanted to boil down the essence of the blues records it was listening to. The group then asked friends to come and join it for joyous singalongs when the band played live, a trend that continued onto the record.

The album has already won over bloggers from around the world (“Every day I open my e-mail
and there’s something new going on,” Haverty says), and the next step is to take the group out on the road, with select Ontario and Quebec shows next week.

JANUARY 2009 - HAMILTON SPEC - FEATURE

2009-01-29T13:26:00.000-08:00

With its seven-voice choir, dancing African guitars, chain-gang rhythms and prog-rock leanings, Bruce Peninsula is an unlikely convergence of sound.

There's so much going on. If you listen closely between the call-and-response vocals, you can pick out the glockenspiel, tube bells, hammered dulcimer, washboard, vibraphone, timbale, marimba or even the karimba.

And just when you think you've got this 11-piece Toronto-based band pegged as some bizarre tribute to old time delta blues, the two guitars, bass player and drummer fly off on a proggy tangent that wouldn't be out of place on an old Jethro Tull record.

At the front of Bruce Peninsula is a hulking Hamiltonian by the name of Neil Haverty. He possesses a gravelly growl powerful enough to cement the band's diverse elements together. Haverty grew up in Westdale, playing in local bands and performing as a lone singer-songwriter at downtown clubs.

Things changed when he moved to Toronto to study music and befriended Matt Cully and Misha Bower, two music fans fully immersed in the Appalachian Folkway recordings of Alan Lomax. They started experimenting old gospel and chain gang songs. Friends were called in to provide extra voices.

"I started to get more comfortable singing more powerfully," explains Haverty. "You don't really sing that way if it's just you and a guitar, but at one point I realized I can sing this way. In those chain-gang songs, it's very clear that the call has to be strong if you've got all those voices coming back to you., You'd better be calling pretty strongly if you want a decent response."

Haverty, who is often joined by backed by Bower on lead vocals, stresses that Bruce Peninsula is a collective.

"The truth is that there are five of us who actively contribute to the songwriting in the band," he says. "Sometimes I do step up to the plate and I'm running around the stage. I used to do an electronic project where I just rammed into people while singing karaoke so I use some of that energy for Bruce Peninsula. If I am supposed to be the frontman, I'm going to step up to the plate and do it."

The proggy elements came to fruition when Haverty introduced his old Westdale friend, Steve McKay, to the band. McKay had completed his classical music studies at Queen's University in Kingston where he had also developed a strong reputation as a rock drummer. When Bruce Peninsula needed a new drummer, he answered the call, bringing with him a love for '70s British prog rock.

"The prog stuff was going to happen anyways," McKay says. "I was always a fan of Jethro Tull, King Crimson and Yes."

Yes, it is an unlikely mix. But it's a mix that had the critics frothing more than a month before the official release of Bruce Peninsula's debut album, A Mountain Is A Mouth.

"The buzz is like nothing I've experienced in my life," McKay says about the over-the-top reviews. "It's kind of overwhelming."

On Tuesday, the CD finally is being released to record stores after being available for download off the band's website (bruce-peninsula.com) since mid-December.

The band will perform a CD release concert at the Pepper Jack Cafe in Hamilton Thursday, Feb. 5, followed by several more in Ontario and Quebec, culminating with a show at Toronto's Polish Combatants' Hall on Feb. 22.

JANUARY 2009 - EYE - REVIEW

2009-01-29T13:25:00.000-08:00

It’s a rare rock album that makes use of a choir from start to finish; that texture is usually reserved for epiphanies. Already-revered local collective Bruce Peninsula’s debut is full of such epic, transcendent moments, like the thundering peaks of “Shutters” and “Steamroller,” and both are anchored by producer/drummer Leon Taheny with his intricate, though still-powerful, skin-beating. But even a force as majestic as thunder gets old after 41 minutes (“Satisfied” is only a minute long, but the titular chant gets annoying much faster than that), and unlike the peaks — i.e. the vigorously hollered choruses led by former EYE WEEKLY scribe and current dynamic frontman Neil Haverty — A Mountain Is A Mouth’s valleys are unremarkable by comparison. The intros to “Inside/Outside” and “Shutters” are flat and dull, and the incongruously oblique lyrics don’t help. If this is folk music, shouldn’t it be more comprehensible to us commoners?

FEBRUARY 2009 - EXCLAIM - FEATURE

2009-01-29T00:16:00.000-08:00

If it wasn't true, it might come from a cheesy teen flick revolving around a high school band. Two friends are jamming away when another pops his head around the corner and says "Hey, that sounds good! Can I join?" It's not quite the origin of Toronto's Bruce Peninsula, but it's close. Friends Matt Cully and Misha Bower were re-interpreting rural folk and traditional recordings for a concert while roommate Neil Haverty listened in. "They practiced in the back room of our apartment," Haverty explains, "and it was, 'I like this and I want to join in' so I basically told them and they didn't oppose that." Two more joined — Andrew Barker and Steve McKay on bass and drums, respectively — and so did an amalgam of six other musicians known as the choir, which can include Katie Stelmanis and Ohbijou's Casey Mecija.

This large organization, though, is not apparent on their debut album, A Mountain Is A Mouth, where the group sings seamlessly as one unified voice. For Cully, the old traditionals sparked an ongoing concern: "'Why does this music speak to me, or why does contemporary music expressing contemporary attitudes not speak to me? Why does it turn me off? Why is there something aesthetically that I can't quite latch onto?' So, I found myself more and more going back to that music and developing a deeper connection to the songs and the way the voices sound."

But the traditionals were just to get the creative juices flowing. "It was a really good jumping off point for everyone and it got everyone inspired about singing together," Haverty recollects. "It made us feel comfortable about singing together, which a whole lot of people aren't. To get six people in a room and sing in harmony is a little daunting at first but since we had all these recordings of people doing it so well, it really made everyone say 'We can do this too.'" The experiments might have been tentative, but Bruce Peninsula have become significantly more comfortable in their musical skin. Their debut features stomping melody, rough guitars and manic tempos that are not an emulation of older music, but an evolution. There is no better evidence of this than their live show, where Bruce Peninsula coalesce into a powerful band that effortlessly induce goosebumps when all 11 members let loose with their collective cry.

As Cully describes it, "We try to bring a spectacle to the audience and basically not let anyone go untouched. Maybe someone won't like it if they're indifferent, which to me is the worst kind of feeling you could get out of it. It should be either 'It was loud and crazy and shit' or 'Whoa, I got out of my seat because I was really excited.'" Therefore, don't go pigeonholing them as having a throwback sound, as, for Haverty, "[The traditionals] gave us a lot of good lessons, but we're not in that class anymore. It's something that really helped us start the band but now that we know more of what we want to be as a band, it has very little to do with it anymore."

In the end, Bruce Peninsula may sound like the past, but they are all about the future. "The best part about making music," Haverty offers, "is trying to discover the original bits and trying to experiment and I don't think we want to be in a band where we're doing something that we've heard before. We want to push ourselves."

JANUARY 2009 - NOW - FEATURE

2009-01-29T00:12:00.000-08:00

Getting onstage with 10 or more musician pals used to make for a startling spectacle, but not any more.

If you connect the dots between Montreal’s Arcade Fire, Halifax’s Tom Fun Orchestra, Vancouver’s Choir Practice and Toronto’s Broken Social Scene, you might guess the trend reflects the need of musicians based in bigger cities to establish their own portable communities of like-minded players within their highly competitive local music scene. That’s one theory.

There’s also a growing awareness that even if it’s no longer feasible to sustain a career in music through recording and touring, there’s still enormous value in playing songs with and for friends, as the members of Bruce Peninsula believe. If you’re splitting concert fees more than 12 ways, you’d better be having a really good time.

“I guess this whole thing grew out of my obsession with the various regionally shaped forms of American roots music – blues, folk, spirituals, jazz – from the early part of the 20th century,” explains singer/guitarist Matt Cully, who formed Bruce Peninsula with Misha Bower in 2006.

“When I look for a reflection of myself in contemporary culture, I don’t find it as readily as I do in those old recordings. What you hear is a community of people trying say something about their lives and their values in a very genuine way, and those voices really speak to me. Today, most people making music seem to be driven by a desire for money, fame or to say something to the world. The notion of people getting together to play songs for the sheer fun of it has somehow been forgotten along the way. Don’t get me wrong – we’re not against making money, but there’s much more to it than that.”

While the Bruce Peninsula’s Lift ’Em Up (Escape Goat) debut 7-inch EP revealed their inspiration in an endearingly lo-fi way, their new album, A Mountain Is A Mouth (Bruce Trail), is a gigantic leap forward. That’s not just in terms of their impressive original compositions, but also in their elaborate orchestrations and arrangements involving a wide variety of slapped, blown and plucked noisemakers.

Regrettably, the lengthy refinement process cost the non-gospel choir some of the awesome stage power they wield when roaring at full heathen holler.

“If the recording sounds a little over-produced,” says key contributor Neil Haverty, “it’s probably because we spent days and days mixing and remixing tracks. Because it was our first real statement as Bruce Peninsula, we felt a certain amount of pressure to get things right, so we wound up second-guessing ourselves a bit. A year and a half was far too much time to allow ourselves to tinker with things, but I guess that’s all part of the learning experience when you make your first album.

“Still, I’m totally happy with the results, and I think we all felt extremely satisfied when we finally heard the finished master.”

JANUARY 2009 - ECHO - COVER STORY

2009-01-28T23:58:00.000-08:00

One of the most familiar locations in Ontario is the fabled Bruce Peninsula. Stretching from Niagara Falls to the Georgian Bay, the Bruce Peninsula cuts across Ontario, offering some of the most idyllic trails, natural waterfalls and vistas the province has to offer. For proof, just go on a hike this summer somewhere along the Peninsula. Its quiet and serene, a juxtaposed set of scenes cutting through our factories, suburbs and highways, and quite possibly the prettiest trail in Ontario.

While these are not reasons to christen a band with its name, it does speak volumes on why Toronto’s 11–piece freak–folk choir settled on its muse as a moniker. It speaks locally, for one, but it’s general enough for the unfamiliar to always be left open to interpretation.

“Well, we chose the name because of what it immediately represents to people in southern Ontario, to be honest,” asserts one of several vocalists, Neil Haverty. “It paints a picture of some romanticized rural life, one we all have aspirations of enjoying by living easy on a little piece of land away from the city. Plus, we’ve all spent weekends away on the Peninsula and the images that come along with it seemed to fit the kind of music we are making. We also like the fact that, for people outside of Ontario, it’s sort of mysterious. It could be a guy’s name, a location, really anything.”

While the landscape may be beautiful, the music this collective is making is equally enchanting. Featuring members of Ohbijou, Final Fantasy and scores of others, Bruce Peninsula is a de–facto supergroup that deconstructs the vocal harmonies in folk, turning each note into an eerier, deeper and darker mess.

The result penetrates right to the core by turning folk and its auspices on its head. In this case, it is the choir that takes control, as if the membership is hell bent on making a sacred record for secular minds. Dark, haunting tones waft over elevated vocal harmonies, recalling everything from Tom Waits to The Nightmare Before Christmas. It’s beautiful, utterly entrancing music, but always aware of its mortality; a true set of dark, deathly tones for those in love with life.

“Songs culminate in myriad ways. There’s no one single process that works every time,” explains Haverty. “Usually it starts as a seed in one member’s mind, then it gets introduced to a small group to flesh it out and, eventually, finds its way into the hands of the big band. We’re really not sure how they’ll sound until that final stage, but that’s the fun of it. The only constant seems to be the separation of the band and choir. When we’re writing, we have band practices and we have choir practices and then eventually merge them together. The space between them allows us to carefully explore both sides and ultimately we end up with a better song because of it. We learned early on that it’s too hectic to do it all in one shot.”

All this is evident on Bruce Peninsula’s debut; an elegiac set of fawns and fables entitled A Mountain is a Mouth. Recorded by now band member Leon Taheny of Final Fantasy and featuring over a dozen local musicians, the record was recorded in dribs and drabs, as schedules, budgets and other requirements had to be negotiated during the year–long process.

“We recorded it at a bunch of different places around Toronto,” explains Haverty.” “We bought studio time whenever we scraped together enough money and we moved around a lot based on what was available and when. Because we had an easygoing engineer in Leon Taheny, it
didn't really matter where we did it. He was always willing to travel. We just looked for the best and cheapest spaces for each respective element of the recording and slowly pieced it together
over the course of a year. It was important to us to do the vocals at St. George The Martyr church, because we knew how giant it would make the choir sound, but other than that we didn’t really plan it out in advance. We just recorded whenever we had the chance, wherever would have us.”

While the vocals do take precedent, as was the collective’s intention, A Mountain is a Mouth is an album that speaks volumes in both its belts and whispers, as silence is used in as equally powerful a manner as choir bursts. Together, a mood is developed, one akin to witch–folk influenced by sacred malaise and secular morbidity. But in all this darkness, never does the
album come off as depressing or self–deprecating. Like its namesake, it’s too gorgeous for that, proving that there is always a glimpse of light in the hearts of darkness.

“We consciously tried to make this the most gigantic, most high definition recording we’ve ever worked on,” affirms Haverty. “Early on we decided that we wanted to make a record we were proud of, one that would allow the recorded versions of the songs to stand on their own. We believe that recordings and live shows should be judged on different terms. One has elements that the other doesn’t, and vise versa, but each carries its own unique set of characteristics. On
the record, we wanted to give each song the nicest wardrobe possible, so we took time to highlight the melodies with overdubs and spent a lot of effort making sure that it all worked as a
cohesive whole. In the end, I think we’ve come out with an honest LP, where each song services the next and where every last little hair has been groomed and styled.”

Give this record a few months to permeate and go visit the actual peninsula in the spring. It’ll be
singing. A Mountain is a Mouth is out via Outside on February 3. Go see their CD release show this week.

JANUARY 2009 - WOLVES, HAWKS & KITES - BEST OF 08

2009-01-21T20:23:00.000-08:00

The simplest testament to the greatness of Bruce Peninsula’s debut full-length that I can offer is the fact that it has made it on to this list after only being released (digitally) a few weeks go. Rife with anthemic choir-folk, A Mountain Is a Mouth manages to be undeniably epic, while still remaining humbly down to Earth. Add to that a driving sense of urgency and the result is simply invigorating.

JANUARY 2009 - ARTHUR - INTERVIEW

2009-01-21T20:20:00.001-08:00

Bruce Peninsula, a Toronto-based, twelve-piece, indie-gospel, post-punk choir are coming to the Gordon Best Theatre January 28. After an extraordinary performance at this year’s Peterborough Folk Festival, Bruce Peninsula have released their much anticipated full length album A Mountain is a Mouth, converting many to their devotional following. Arthur spoke with Matt Cully of the band about their beginnings, the contention surrounding their use of Alan Lomax’s recordings and why they will make you a believer too.

Bruce Peninsula began as a duo, but you now name twelve musicians in your ranks. How did the band begin and how did it develop into what it has become?

Matt Cully: Bruce Peninsula evolved from a group of friends engaged in various artistic pursuits in and around Toronto. The band came together in the spring of 2006, when Misha Bower and I were asked to perform at a local fundraiser.

With the addition of Neil Haverty that summer the band began to incorporate more material that is original and many local musicians were added to the live line-up to aid the increasing scope of the music. Most notably an all female choir developed which featured familiar faces in the Toronto scene and quickly became integral to the overall sound.

The substantial involvement of Steve McKay on drums and Andrew Barker on Bass would further define the core identity of the group, allowing for a more focused schedule for composing and rehearsing.

In the liner notes to your 7”, you claim “songs are spirits: the immanent ‘here’ of your present, the ‘there’ of the not-yet, and the ‘always-already’ of your spectral past.” How did the songs on A Mountain is a Mouth come about and where did they come from? What do you think makes them speak to people today?

MC: The early influence of roots music on our sound in our set quickly began to develop in diverse ways with the addition of new performers and an increased emphasis on original work.

The influence of early folk music wasn’t just an aesthetic one. It was also a reminder that music comes from communities of people who use it to express and understand very basic things about their own nature. Music is independent of the shifting forms of technology and markets that regulate our experience of it. I only mention this because I think it’s a kind of common sense approach to music that has receded into the oblivion of modern living.

Many of the songs on AMIAM, like your previously released 7”, stylistically and thematically reference the sounds of spirituals, work songs and the traditions associated with the American South. In the liner notes to your 7” you discuss the point of the band: “recontextualizing the past” and questioning “why music so far removed from our contemporary experience seems to speak so directly to it?” Two of the three songs on your 7” are anonymous traditional songs, based on the field recordings of folklorist and musicologist Alan Lomax. What are your thoughts regarding Lomax, and the fact that he has been accused of not crediting the African-American slaves who originated or sang many of these songs?

MC: First I would have to correct this assumption about Lomax, insofar as I believe his entire project was predicated on understanding the culture of American folk music and in some way giving credit or value to the art forms he documented.

In my experience, the only cases where he left out individual names were for large groups of singers in which case he would describe them in some general way. For instance, the version of Rosie, which we based our interpretation on, is credited to Cell Block 309, Parchment Prison. The original author of Rosie remains impossible to determine because it seems to have become popular through word of mouth. There are at least five versions within the Lomax collection alone.

I think Lomax ultimately had good intentions and an undeniable respect for the music of early Americans, independent of race, creed or colour. Along with his father and other musicologists who documented the music for research rather than profit, Lomax was a powerful force in redefining issues of equality and civil liberties.

As for Bruce Peninsula, the question from our 7-inch you quoted is really central. Any engagement we have with music from the past is always a result of some undeniable influence it has on our lives today. If every culture is meant to express its own zeitgeist, then it is certainly a peculiar thing to be obsessed with music from a completely different time and place. There is a risk of doing things in poor taste that could cause offence rather than reverence. As you bring a song into your frame of reference, you begin to impose all sorts of values, emotions, styles that weren’t relevant to the original performer.

What is important for us is to treat any material we interpret with respect and dignity. I subscribe to the idea that the best criticism of art is to produce new art. … This is also a way to celebrate those things that have had positive effects on your growth as an artist. Even if we’ve failed in our endeavour, our intentions remain genuine and ultimately humble.

I think I should add that we are actively trying to de-emphasize the influence of roots music on our sound. Our new material is moving in other directions and we don’t want to be thought of in only one limited way.

I feel like our music is concerned with the transmission of a kind of primal joy; one that includes suffering, pain, euphoria, love, doubt – all the things that push and pull us. It will certainly take many forms and evolve with each new experience.

Your contextualization of these traditional songs is different in many ways to Lomax’s recordings. How do you negotiate reinterpreting narratives without reinforcing the romanticization of the subject and context in which they were created?

MC: Certainly, the problem of idealizing the conditions of early America is something we take seriously. Western pop music emerged from spirituals, blues, jazz and European classical music, all of which developed through some relationship of privilege and oppression. Our interpretations reflect our own contemporary sensibilities and I think of them as additions to the folk tradition rather than cover songs.

In fact the idea of a cover song is tied up with all kinds of issues of authorship and copy write that are now once again becoming obsolete. In the original recording of Drinking All Day, Vera Ward Hall, in discussion with Lomax, reveals that she doesn’t know where she learned the song, she just heard people singing it where she lives. In fact, she doesn’t remember the entire song and indicates that it is actually much longer. This idea of songs as disembodied, free-floating entities is crucial to our approach. It’s something that is currently being played out online with new music once again being passed around through word of mouth.

JANUARY 2009 - EYE MAGAZINE - CRITICS POLL

2009-01-21T20:17:00.000-08:00

DESTINED FOR GREATNESS IN 2009

1. (tie) The Bruce Peninsula & $100
2. Jenn Grant

JANUARY 2009 - BBC - BAND TO WATCH

2009-01-13T12:26:00.000-08:00

At first I wasn't sure if this was a band, a person or a place. But they seem to be a multi-layered Canadian collective - the layers being gravelly singer-songwriter, soaring choir and funky art-rock band. The layers enhance and elevate each other to create a quite stunning sound. They could get this year's Fleet Foxes or Bon Iver vote.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/7806954.stm

DECEMBER 2008 - GLOBE & MAIL - REVIEW

2008-12-30T12:16:00.000-08:00

There is loud music, and then there is music to be heard loud. Folie à Deux, the noisy new album from pop-punksters Fall Out Boy, with its red-lining zeal, is of the former. Just thinking about that racket causes my eardrums to stick their fingers in their own ears. I'd sooner sit along side a megaphone-equipped Al Pacino at a monster-car rally than to subject myself to Fall Out Boy, who have it all over howitzers and Rush Limbaugh.

This isn't to say I ignore my home stereo's upper reaches. Radiohead makes gorgeously huge sounds, the Black Keys roar wonderfully, and for the most delicate moments of Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here album, the more volume the better.

Loud music is to big music as a fire hose is to a thundering waterfall.

Bruce Peninsula, a sprawling Toronto freak folk choir, makes uplifting, ruggedly expansive sounds. These gut-singers wouldn't know a Marshall amplifier from a Marcia Brady, yet their songs fill canyons. A Mountain Is a Mouth begins with Inside/Outside's shimmering vocals and percussion. "Guess you don't have to go out if you really don't wanna (go out), but you could use a walk, and lift those shoulders up too" is the opening line, accompanied by a pinging vibraphone. It's a hell of an ushering that gives way to a clattering, stomping rhythm and the growling lead call of Neil Haverty with backing response vocals that mark most of the album.

Elements of Malian blues (on Shanty Song), European folk and gospel structures are detected on eight originals and two traditionals from an expandable 12-piece that probably counts the members of Ottawa's indie world-folksters the Acorn as fellow travellers.

As you would imagine from an ensemble that names itself after a national park, the material is environmentally concerned (and often water-themed). The hand-clapped, chanted Steamroller, for example, deals with urban sprawl.

Shutters, the stunning, soul-swelling centrepiece, imagines Jim Morrison with the Fifth Dimension. Crabapples, with its rough-cut preaching and marched beat, would blow Alan Lomax's mind. The more serene singing of the riveting Misha Bower offers a respite on two other numbers.

I like the contrast of Haverty's gravelly singing and the shout-y choir behind him, but his gruff delivery makes some of the lyrics indiscernible. On 2nd 4th World War, though, the voice is clear. "When that flood comes, it comes as a cannon, one that lets you catch the shot in your hands/ but just to send its shocking tidal wave through every bone in your body." Yeah, I got that, in a very big, bowled-over way.

A Mountain Is a Mouth is currently available digitally at zunior.com, with a physical release set for Feb. 3. CD launch shows include Ottawa, Feb. 6; Montreal Feb. 7; and Toronto, Feb. 22.

DECEMBER 2008 - IHEARTMUSIC - REVIEW

2008-12-16T09:22:00.000-08:00

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.

OCTOBER 2008 - IHEART MUSIC - POLL

2008-10-29T07:49:00.000-07:00

Voted #5 in recent IHeartMusic poll

Two songs. That's all they've put out this year and those 6 minutes are more exciting than anything I've heard from other bands. (Bryan)

The first recorded fruits of this Toronto collective have shown that the otherworldy power of their live shows can indeed be captured on tape, which means that soon they'll no longer be just the secret of those who've seen them perform. (Frank, Chromewaves)

It makes sense that when some of Toronto's most talented musicians start a band, the result is going to be good. This isn't just good though, there's something really special about the Bruce Peninsula, and a lot of people are going to find out what it is when their debut album drops soon. (Colin, Snowsuit Sounds)

With an incredible album of original modern day spirituals and hard-nosed folk imbued with the voices of many and probably one of the best live shows around, they will be breaking mighty big. (Chris, Exclaim!)

This indie gospel choir / psych folk rock band from Toronto is a kind of super group with a roving band of members in their live shows including stellar permanents Misha Bower, Matt Cully (who co-DJs the popular dance party, Goin' Steady), Neil Haverty, and occasionals Katie Stelmanis, Casey Mecija (Ohbijou), master percussionist Maya Postepski, Taylor Kirk (Timber Timbre) and the now-departed (from the band) Isla Craig. They sing traditional songs (read: Negro spirituals) and their own ethereal, haunting originals, which work as well---if differently---in places like the Horseshoe Tavern as they do at St. Andrew-by-the-Lake Church on Toronto Island, where the band celebrated the release of their 7" several months back. That show, which quickly sold out to friends, fellow musicians, and local scenesters in the know, was something else. The band toured out to the East Coast in the late summer of 2008, no doubt impressing wherever they went. Watch for the band's full-length to drop soon. It's called A Mountain Is A Mouth. (Jen)

Their performance at this year's Pop Montreal was one of those breathtaking, deeply moving, quasi-religious concert experiences that you get every couple of years, if you're lucky. Shockingly, they're able to translate that onto disc, with the upcoming A Mountain Is A Mouth. I don't want to jinx them by using the "P-word", but in all honesty, anyone who wants to succeed Caribou next September is going to have to go through Bruce Peninsula. (Matthew, ihm)

I wanted to see the Bruce Peninsula play for so long, but every time I tried to see them, a conflict would come about. After months of missed shows, I finally saw them at Toronto’s WhipperSnapper Gallery and they were great beyond great. Harmonious, loud & in unison: all of what the Bruce Peninsula are. All I can say for the band is that every single member is extremely talented. From the front-row choir, to the percussionists to the lead vocals, this band should play churches and big halls. They won’t need amplifiers. They produce enough sound from each other to fill Massey Hall easily, and it’s wonderful how they do it. (Garry)

They released their debut single, rocked the crap out of Sappyfest and have a full-length on the way very soon. A good 2008 and I'm predicting an even better 2009. (Paul, Wolves Hawks and Kites)

Download "Steamroller"

SEPTEMBER 2008 - VIEW MAGAZINE - FEATURE

2008-09-25T13:14:00.002-07:00

Since the summer of 2006, Toronto’s Bruce Peninsula has been evolving and ballooning into a formidable musical force, and the Canadian indie rock scene has been quick to take notice. Upon formation, Misha Bower and Matt Cully decided to start playing songs that they’d discovered, and become enamored with, from the Library of Congress’s Archive of Folk Songs, which was exhaustively compiled by noted musicologist, Alan Lomax, during the first half of the 20th century.

After only two shows as a duo, the lineup quickly snowballed, picking up more enthused musicians who also happened to be friends, eventually becoming a grand musical beast with almost a dozen heads!

“This band is just a mash of people who met in Toronto,” as explained by Neil Haverty, one of two BP members to originally come out of Hamilton, “The relationships usually weren't musical first. We
worked together or we had mutual acquaintances and became friends. When Bruce Peninsula was starting to come together, we were very mindful of who would sound good in the band, but we were lucky because we were tight with lots of talented people.”

The collective musical resume of Bruce Peninsula is just too extensive to cover thoroughly on this page, but every member has plenty going individually that warrants some mention. Before Bruce Peninsula came to be, Misha Bower was primarily a playwright and dramatic performer, and Matt Cully was a busy DJ and promoter all over Toronto. In fact, BP is the first actual gigging band for both founding members. Neil Haverty has performed with various groups, and as a solo artist, throughout the decade. Drummer Steve McKay, who also hails from Hamilton, is an incredibly sought–after backing musician for various artists, a solo artist with releases under his belt and a production assistant in TO. Bassist Andrew Barker is a jazz–fluent guitar teacher/performer who composes on his own as well. Vocalist Katie Stelmanis is a recording artist whose own record was released by Blocks Recording Club earlier this year. Vocalist Casey Mecija spends her non–BP time fronting another current Toronto indie–fave, Ohbijou. Kari Peddle is cutting her ‘post–high school band’ musical teeth as a vocalist in BP. Vocalist Daniela Gesundheit makes her own music as ‘Snowblink’. Percussionist, Leon Taheny is a successful recording engineer and a member of the post Death From Above 1979 project, Sebastien Grainger and the Mountains. Percussionist Maya Postepski studied percussion at the U of T and also plays in Katie’s band.

Got all that? Great.

Let’s get back to what they do together, as Bruce Peninsula. The music harnesses the spirit of the great blues, folk and gospel singers from long ago, all the while injecting some more modern post–rock intricacies into their own songs as well as the re–interpretations that they’ve produced.

On most of their tunes, Misha and Neil lead the other vocalists in a call and response mode as the band stomps, drums and strums alongside the glorious choir. “Ultimately,” as Haverty is quick to point out, “we'd like to make it impossible to identify any single one of us as the lead singer. On the record, Misha sings ‘Weave Myself A Dress’ and ‘Drinking All Day’ and I sing a lot of the other leads but, for example, Katie sings a lead at the end of ‘2nd 4th’ World War’, Isla and Matt sing together in the middle of ‘Shutters’ and Katie and Misha sing together at the start of ‘Shanty Song.’ Going forward, the lead singer line will definitely not be so clear–cut.”

Bruce Peninsula is a musical vehicle in which every member has the opportunity to take the wheel. It’s a policy that the band doesn’t take lightly, and it’s because of this collaborative democracy and multi–faceted musical chemistry that Bruce Peninsula has already developed a highly recognizable sound of their very own. Having so many vocalists working together within the group is certainly one of the key factors to their unique style.

“It was definitely a conscious decision to focus on the singing,” assures Haverty, “We're all suckers for good harmonies. Even if this band didn't exist, we'd still sing in chorus when we got drunk at parties and we'd still generally be drawn to vocal–heavy music. Bruce Peninsula was always going to be full of voices. That was clear from day one.”

“Singing draws people in,” adds Cully, “No matter how far a composer wants to push the human voice to its limits it will somehow always resist complete abstraction. We can't help but recognize our own voice when we hear someone singing, it always seems to echo as a ghostly dimension to our listening. I feel like this innate attraction to vocal music will always somehow align it with the spiritual. And seeking the spiritual will always occupy us even in our current climate of despair.”

One can only imagine how convoluted the songwriting process must be with so many talented people in one group. “The idea for a song,” as Cully explains, “is usually brought forward by an individual, or developed closely in a small group, usually no more than three. So far Neil, Misha and I have usually been the instigators at this level. This is increasingly changing and our process is opening up to include a larger core of writers. We have a good mixture of trained, semi–trained and untrained musicians within the group that can offer a unique mix of perspectives on developing songs. A song will take many shapes before it develops into a solid, repeatable entity. It takes a while before everyone feels as though they've contributed to some aspect of the whole.”

The band are just putting the finishing touches on their debut full length, A Mountain is a Mouth, and despite an indie label bidding war for their recording, they’ve decided to give it a go on their own by self–releasing it this January. As Cully declares, “We are very happy to be releasing this record ourselves, though admittedly we're a little daunted by the task. We really feel that new possibilities for distributing music independently are constantly opening up and we are excited to learn all we can about cutting–edge approaches.” Haverty supports their decision to go D.I.Y like a proud and loving parent, “It came down to one thing. Why, after so long, coddling this baby of ours, would we sell it off? We don't have to bring in strangers; we have enough ‘staff' in the band and willing friends to help give it a proper release. So we've decided to keep it close to us. It's on us to keep it all under control but in the end, we just didn't want to let her go.”

Be sure to get to the Casbah early enough to catch a live sneak preview of A Mountain is a Mouth when Bruce Peninsula warm, if not burn, the crowd up for Apostle of Hustle.

AUGUST 2008 - NOW MAGAZINE - LIVE REVIEW

2008-09-25T13:14:00.001-07:00

Anyone expecting to hear some sweet hymn-singing from this bunch got much more than they bargained for. The Bruce Peninsula delivered a walloping one-two punch of hard-belting harmony singing, bolstered by an amped-up backing band. If this performance was meant to be a statement, it was that the Bruce Peninsula aren’t just a rag-tag assembly of bored hipsters who think it’s cool to croon pre-war gospel and blues numbers, but rather a hugely promising folk-psych ensemble with a dynamic set of darkly twisted original songs ready to unleash. Their debut full-length, A Mountain Is A Mouth, is due to hit any week now. Consider yourself warned.

AUGUST 2008 - EXCLAIM - 7" REVIEW

2008-09-25T13:13:00.003-07:00

The first tangible record by a great Toronto, ON band, this seven-inch (aka. "The BP 45") features three traditional songs performed in the already inimitable manner of Bruce Peninsula. With their amalgam of gospel-tinged field recordings and post-punk intricacy, Bruce Peninsula tap into soul and fury in ways other multi-headed ensembles only dream of. With "Rosie," the group take on an Alan Lomax recording, infusing it with raw power and drama, a chorus of urgent female vocalists haunting Neil Haverty's gritty, impassioned lament for one of the most infamous muses in underground folk while jarring percussion thuds up against a building drone. The flipside features "Lift 'em Up/Jack, Can I Ride," the former a powerful interpretation of a biblical tale written by Washington Phillips. Its soaring vocals navigate snaky guitar-lines and a foreboding sense of doom. That end comes dramatically with "Jack, Can I Ride," an artfully recorded stomp-chant that also draws from Lomax's work. With anticipation growing for the A Mountain is a Mouth full-length this fall, Bruce Peninsula impress with a rewarding wax omen.

AUGUST 2008 - CHROMEWAVES - FEATURE

2008-09-25T13:13:00.001-07:00

You couldn't have picked a more perfect place to be introduced to the gothic gospel spirituals of Toronto's Bruce Peninsula than under an open sky as the sun began to set across a farmer's field, as I did last August at the Dog Day Afternoon festival. Sounding both fresh and unmeasurably old, the eleven-piece choir/blues band hybrid made an indelible first impression I figured would be nearly impossible to match. And yet they did a few months later in the more conventional environs of Lee's Palace and once again in a couple weeks at The Horseshoe. Obviously, as special as that Dog Day performance was, Bruce Peninsula were not dependent on their environs to work their magic.

But what of the studio? It's hard enough to capture the chemistry of live performance on tape for a conventional band - how about one that's as much an old-time revival show or gospel choir as a band? Amazingly, it sounds like they've done it. Listening to some still-rough/unmastered versions of their debut album, A Mountain Is A Mouth, I'm immediately reminded not only of the energy and intensity of their live shows, but also the mystery and sense of distance - spatial and chronal - that I didn't think could be experienced indoors, let alone from speakers. And the clarity of all the voices and instruments, not necessarily something you get live, is also astonishing. Whoever recorded this thing did a hell of a job.

The record is still being polished up (but hopefully not too much) for a release sometime this Fall on a home still to be named/determined, but in the meantime the band have released a 7" of two traditional folk recordings (from the Alan Lomax archives) that also capture the sound of the band, if not their songwriting. Both sides are streaming at the band's MySpace (along with a track from the album) but I suspect it doesn't sound quite the same over the internet as it would on record, with the added dimension of crackles, or live, with the added dimension of crickets.

AUGUST 2008 - CHARTATTACK - FEATURE

2008-09-25T13:12:00.002-07:00

Bruce Peninsula are a band on the brink... of what, nobody knows yet.

The 12-member group that grew from Matt Cully and Misha Bower's archival music listening sessions are about to mutate again. The year-long recording project that had them hopping through eight Toronto locations (including St. George The Martyr Church) has finally given birth to a debut album, A Mountain Is A Mouth. But before anybody hit record, the name Bruce Peninsula was already getting around. A trip to the crowded press section on the band's website is proof that their live performances make lasting impressions.

"I think we're lucky that we've had some interest in our music, and I guess it's a testament to the fact that we enjoy playing live and I think that comes across to people," Cully says about the early buzz their shows have generated. "It's like an extension of our private existence as friends getting together and doing it anyway. We're kind of bringing that out into the public just for a little bit."

With the new album on the cusp of release and an east coast tour booked, Cully and Bower know their band are going to have to change. Coordinating recording sessions with 12 musicians wasn't easy, and the group will shrink to seven people on tour.

Complicating matters is the fact that the Bruce Peninsula choir is packed with talented artists who have thriving solo careers or other bands. Katie Stelmanis and Ohbijou's Casey Mecija both contributed their voices to the album, as did Isla Craig, who has since stepped back from Bruce Peninsula to concentrate on her own songs.

Factor in the additional pressures of finding a label to release A Mountain Is A Mouth in the fall, and you have to wonder how the need for professionalism will affect the friends-having-fun vibe that Bruce Peninsula was built on.

Cully says he and his core bandmates are ready for anything.

"We're moving into a phase where it has to be more professional, or you have to think about yourself as a musician and [about] your career and what you want to do. I think that we are committed to take the next step."

AUGUST 2008 - EXCLAIM - LIVE REVIEW

2008-09-25T13:12:00.001-07:00

Throughout their triumphant set, at least half of all musicians were singing at any given time and when all really connected, the goosebumps were raised and the tiny church was shaken to the core. Stomping, singing and growling their way through original numbers and revamps of chain-gang spirituals, the show hit a fever pitch at the end when singer Neil Haverty dropped the mic and ran up and down the pews, crying and singing to heaven like a man possessed. Indeed, when all the singers, who included Katie Stelmanis and Casey Mecija from Ohbijou, connected, the electricity could be felt and one was tempted to rise from your wooden pews to sway and clap. Everyone should be lucky enough to feel the power and energy that Bruce Peninsula seem to emit from a power on high. Hallejuah!

AUGUST 2008 - EXCLAIM - 7" SONG FEATURE

2008-09-25T13:11:00.000-07:00

There’s a chance you’ve vacationed in the Bruce Peninsula. It’s a beautiful spot in Ontario located between Georgian Bay and Lake Huron in the Niagara Escarpment that offers untouched natural habitat, a biosphere reserve and two national parks. Oh, and Sauble Beach, where young people go with kegs in tow to get blitzed and water-ski.

A group of Toronto musicians are looking to cause a wave of confusion the next time you hear, “Are you going to Bruce Peninsula?” There are 12 of them, actually, almost enough to start their own tourism board, but I have a feeling they’ll be too busy fighting off the disciples that will quickly be flocking to join their congregation.

Formed in 2006 by Misha Bower and Matt Cully, the Bruce (I’m gonna call them) took their inspiration from American folklorist and musicologist Alan Lomax’s extensive archive, the project quickly ballooned, adding members from a number of different Toronto bands (including Germans, ohbijou, Katie Stelmanis, the Lake Vernon Drowning) to melding an array of sounds mostly borrowed from the music of 100 years past. While folk is likely the best word to nutshell them with, the Bruce are equally a gospel choir in the body of indie kids who’ve been struck down with the blues.

While they certainly follow traditional songbook, the collective certainly add their own finesse to their songs of choice. Set for release as a seven-inch in July on member Neil Haverty’s Escape Goat label, “Lift Em’ Up Jack, Can I Ride?” is their take on late Texas preacher Washington Phillips’ “Lift Him Up That’s All.” Removing the stripped down carousel-spun flourish of the great troubadour, the Bruce channel his spirit into a righteous meld of thumping beats, rickety percussion, blues guitar passages and a feverishly climactic call and response that summons the sweat glands to purge.

The Bruce Peninsula’s debut full-length, A Mountain Is A Mouth, is in the can, and awaiting release some time in the fall. A release party for the Lift Em’ Up Jack, Can I Ride?/Rosie is set for July 20 at the St. Andrew-By-the-Lake Church on Toronto Island, and the band will head out on the road this summer with the Got To Get Got.

AUGUST 2008 - IHEARTMUSIC - FEATURE

2008-09-25T13:09:00.002-07:00

It's probably a little early to start thinking about next year's Polaris Prize when they still haven't handed out this year's, but I'm thinking that when people do start looking toward next year's award, Bruce Peninsula is going to be coming up in conversation an awful lot. In part, this is because of early glimpses of their debut full-length, A Mountain is a Mouth. While still far from complete, there's enough to the rough demos floating around that you get the sense the (eight-piece? nine-person? ten-piece? twelve-piece? I don't think they even know how many members the band officially has) collective could really be on to something special with their brand of creepy, Waits-ian folk-rock.

Of course, you can also get that same feeling just from listening to their 7". It may only be two songs in length, but the two songs are exceptionally good. There's definitely tension between frontman Neil Haverty's rough growl and the semi-joyful exuberance of the choir behind him, but as "Lift 'Em Up/Jack, Can I Ride?" shows, it's a welcome. It creates a sense of drama that few, if any, artists can match, and if the full-length follows through on this (and it certainly seems like it will), Bruce Peninsula may just be able to start making plans on how they'll divide up those Polaris winnings.

AUGUST 2008 - HEROHILL - 7" REVIEW

2008-09-25T13:09:00.001-07:00

Two songs. That's all we are talking about. The new Bruce Peninsula 7" is only a brief six minutes and thirty seconds, but when it's done right, sometimes that's all it takes. The Bruce Peninsula is a collective - a rotating cast of characters - but unlike many collectives you read about, the Toronto based band eschews polish and importance, opting for honesty... brutal honesty. The rough edges are left in tact, giving the songs a realism that you crave from music but can't seem to find in today's overproduced world.

They smack you in the mouth as they dip into the past, offering their take on two traditional songs. The results are full of power and soul and start to make you question your beliefs. Stamped percussion, howling vocals and gospel backings; it hits hard and even though you aren't sure if you are heading towards the cross roads or at the pearly gates, there's no doubt there is a spirit bigger than yours you still have to answer to. Whether you should confess, pray or barter for your soul really depends on you?

That's why the recording of this 7" is so perfect. People talk about recording on the floor, but this sounds like it was recorded on your floor and the explosion of sound is meant only for your ears. And for that brief moment, it's just you and your maker because no one else around can do a damn thing to change it.

JANUARY 2008 - EYE WEEKLY - CRITICS POLL

2008-09-25T13:07:00.000-07:00

Destined for Success in 2008

01 - Born Ruffians
02 - Bruce Peninsula (tied with Kardinal Offishall, Tokyo Police Club)

DECEMBER 2007 - EXCLAIM - CRITICS POLL

2008-09-25T12:11:00.000-07:00

Voted into the Top 5 Artists to Watch for 2008:

Every once in a while a band so uniquely powerful comes along, they renew your faith in music. For the lucky few who’ve seen them live already, Toronto’s alt-gospel 11-piece Bruce Peninsula is one. Melding a chorus of voices influenced by ancient field recordings of spiritual blues songs with post-rock musical arrangements, this congregation is a stirring force. Currently perfecting their debut album for a spring release, Bruce Peninsula were born to be believed in.

NOVEMBER 2007 - OTTAWA XPRESS - FEATURE

2008-09-25T12:09:00.001-07:00

There's something extremely special about two voices connecting in the right way. If you don't think so, then imagine all music was a bad night of karaoke at Shanghai. We need perfect harmonies in our music, and when a band can harness them, like New Pornographers or Arcade Fire, the results are stunning. Likewise, Toronto's Bruce Peninsula is all about seeking the spiritual in the harmonies of its many singers. Taking a page from Canada's recent bigger-is-better approach to bands, the lineup includes 11 musicians. "The reason we got more people involved in the first place was because we knew we wanted a lot of singing," Neil Haverty clarifies. "The specific starting point came when Matt [Cully] proposed we do an old chain gang song called Rosie for our second show. The song called for a big group of singers, so we taught it to a bunch of our friends in the parking lot behind the club and performed it 20 minutes later. That turned out really well, and when we heard it, the idea of an 11-member band started to make sense."

To put it simply, Bruce Peninsula is looking for something unique and lasting. As Matt Cully notes, "We really want to avoid the trappings of rock, indie rock, or whatever the dominant style is in this month's [music] magazines. Having a large group takes the pressure off the individual and allows us to experiment with all sorts of subtleties and to explore sonic territories that require more than a few hands."

Indeed, what better place is there for a choir to sing in than a church?

"We've managed to get some really magnificent natural reverb and wide-open sounds," Haverty explains about recording in a church for their upcoming debut album. "Some of those recordings have choirs that are 30 or 40 people strong, and every one of them is singing their heart out. There's something about a big group of people singing that's inherently moving, no matter what kind of song they're singing, and we know we want to channel some of that." Though the album won't be out until next year, you can still check out live recordings of upcoming songs at www.myspace.com/brucepeninsula . See them now so you can brag about it later.

NOVEMBER 2007 - ITSNOTHEBANDIHATE - LIVE REVIEW

2008-09-25T12:08:00.004-07:00

Although their music is not even remotely religious, it does have a slight gospel feel to it. This is probably because of the six female choir singing and clapping along with unmitigated enthusiasm. Lead vocalist Neil Haverty uses his bluesy yelp to lead the parade, creating an atmosphere that is stimulating and inspirational. More than all else, their performance really encourages a musical sense of community, that leaves one believing in an old, and perhaps unreasonably optimistic, cliché. That is, that maybe music does have the ability to change the world. OK, cheesy and extreme I guess, but Bruce Peninsula can at least make you feel that way.

NOVEMBER 2007 - TORONTOINDIE - LIVE REVIEW

2008-09-25T12:08:00.003-07:00

I arrived while Bruce Peninsula had control of the stage—and I do mean control. It was hard not to notice the sights and sounds of the 11 people on stage. With three drummers and five additional singers behind lead vocalist, Neil Haverty, one might wonder why a band of Bruce Peninsula's size would limit itself to such a small number of live instruments, but while each member could have easily grabbed a small percussive instrument to play, the band's large gospel-like chants were enough to turn any head in the place, and move a few feet to boot. The music itself had a Tom-Waits feel, bouncing along nicely with the help of some interesting drumming.

NOVEMBER 2007 - OTTAWA SUN - FEATURE

2008-09-25T12:08:00.001-07:00

"Don't you think it's kind of ridiculous that a band could have 'buzz' after fewer than 20 shows?"

The question is posed by Neil Haverty of Toronto's Bruce Peninsula, a confounding collective that takes as its starting point the raw roots-productions of late folklorist Alan Lomax -- and, in particular, the spirit of old-time gospel music. The band has been at the centre of much buzz during its short time as a performing unit.

While the group's first CD is months away from completion, numerous bloggers and critics have declared Bruce Peninsula to be hot.

A reality that troubles Haverty.

"Our band is still a baby," he cautions, "and there are a lot of bands out there that have been at it a lot longer, that deserve to be buzzed about. We'd prefer it if buzz didn't rear its ugly head just yet. Buzz is bad news for the longevity and sanity of a new band."

Fortunately, the band's determination to release no CD before its time is likely to stall any such threats. Once it arrives, the debut release will be worth the wait.

"I guess you could call it perfectionism," Haverty concedes, "but we just think of it as doing things right. We've spent a lot of time writing these songs; we're going to take as long as we need to record them. The record will hold the definitive versions of these songs we've been playing, so we have to make sure what we're hearing in the speakers matches up with what we hear in our heads.

"We have that luxury, I think, because nobody is expecting anything from us yet -- and those who are expecting something seem to be willing to wait for the fully formed thought."

NOVEMBER 2007 - CHROMEWAVES - LIVE REVIEW

2008-09-25T12:05:00.004-07:00

First up was Bruce Peninsula and, after seeing them at Dog Day Afternoon in the Summer, it was strange to see them indoors rather than under the late afternoon, country sky. Once underway, though, the eleven-piece outfit - more congregation than band - somehow managed to recreate that sense of elemental urgency, not unlike an impending thunderstorm. There's a rawness to their foreboding country gospel aesthetic that connects on a very primal level and as they continue to work on their debut album, I wonder how it'll be possible to capture that energy to tape. Maybe it'd be better to simply pile into a covered wagon and travel the country spreading the good word in person. Check them out on November 24 at the Horseshoe with The Acorn and be saved. Or damned. Or both.

SEPTEMBER 2007 - EYE WEEKLY - FEATURE

2008-09-25T12:05:00.003-07:00

Neil Haverty had only been to church once before in his life. He was in Grade 3, and was the only sinner in a car driven by the more spiritually inclined. He was also the only one to be injured in a car accident on the way home that fateful day. Three stitches later, he decided never to go back.

But on a muggy August night at St. George the Martyr Anglican Church, Haverty stands on the altar and leads a congregation of eight other friends in a series of spiritual call-and-response numbers accented by handclaps and foot stomps, voices resonating from the rafters.

Haverty and his bandmates in Bruce Peninsula weren't at the church that night as a part of its normal Anglican services. During the week, St. George's doubles as the Music Gallery, home to folkies and freaks of every stripe. It's a venue that every member of Bruce Peninsula has haunted since they moved to Toronto individually from various surrounding suburbs and towns.

On this night, it's the ideal space to record vocals for their debut album. Haverty serves as the scruffy-voiced centre of the band, though it was founded by guitarist Matt Cully and lead female vocalist Misha Bower. Cully urges him to "rip your voice apart on this one." After a take, Haverty humbly asks the assembled choir, "Am I coming through too 'urrrrgh' for you?" Choir-girl Katie Stelmanis responds, "You can never be 'urrrrgh' enough for this song."

The morning after, a pesky EYE WEEKLY reporter hauls Haverty (whose writing also appears occasionally in these pages) and Cully out of bed at 9am, scant hours after they retired from festivities the night before. Despite a lack of caffeine, Haverty and Cully are remarkably articulate while discussing the document they'd just made.

"We were humbled by the space, and that added to the performances," says Cully, who – unlike Haverty – did grow up going to church. "Everyone was a lot more focused and willing to work. Hanging out in that space, sitting in church pews and hearing other people sing is different from hearing Misha do a great job in an isolation booth while we're eating nachos on the street or something. It's what I'm going to remember the most about making the record."

Cully is also part of the popular DJ duo Goin' Steady, spinning vintage soul music. But after immersing himself in Alan Lomax's field recordings of traditional American music, Cully enlisted his friend Bower to play some of those songs, and Haverty joined for their second show, in August 2006. A snowballing roster of members now includes Casey Mecija of Ohbijou, and solo artists Stelmanis and Isla Craig – all of whom are playing larger roles.

"On all the new songs we've written, we're working towards less of a lead-and-follow and more of a group," says Cully. "[On] the last song we wrote there are three leads and a constant group presence."

"Bruce Peninsula sounds this way now," adds Haverty, "but with nine people who are as creative as they are, I think we have four or five records planned that are not this."

"This" is a visceral yet modern take on traditional forms, focusing on the full vocal possibilities of a choir with elemental percussion, and driven by primal rhythms that draw indirect lines to First Nations or African music. The spiritual element is paramount in every note, whether or not there are direct religious references in the lyrics.

When asked whether they themselves get right with God, Haverty says simply, "Whether we believe in God or not, we believe in the energy of those songs."

Heaven can wait when it comes to the finished recorded product, which might arrive as late as next spring, depending on various circumstances – including the fact that Bower commutes to Toronto from Moncton for gigs and recording sessions.

"We're all such music geeks who fetishize records," says Cully. "So if we're going to make a record, it has to be the one that goes above the mantelpiece and that we're really proud of and have no regrets."

Haverty adds, "Because we're all friends, it's important to look at it as a yearbook, so that when we're 70 years old – whether this band implodes right after the record or lasts 10 years – this is the last year and a half of our lives and it's going to be in glorious surround sound."

AUGUST 2007 - CHROMEWAVES - LIVE REVIEW

2008-09-25T12:05:00.001-07:00

I'd been meaning to see the Bruce Peninsula a few times this Summer but hadn't gotten the chance till now. Comprised of a slew of Toronto musicians who split their time amongst numerous other gigs (how novel!), Bruce Peninsula stood out for how they utilized most of them - rather than hand everyone a guitar and jam it out, the five ladies in the band acted as a choir, though not of angels - more like ghosts. When combined with the raw field holler of bandleader Neil Haverty, they evoked a blend of deep gospel and blues and Southern Gothic that was unexpected and mesmerizing. They're working at committing their songs to wire recorder and play next at the Tranzac on September 5.

AUGUST 2007 - HIPPODROME - LIVE REVIEW

2008-09-25T12:03:00.002-07:00

Think for a second about the number of times you’ve asked an artist what their biggest influence is. Now think about the number of times you got Alan Lomax (a storied ethnomusicologist who traveled the American south collecting field recordings) as an answer. “We’ve always wanted the Lomax influence to be just a piece of what we do,” says Neil Haverty, who sings and plays guitar, snare, and metalophone in Bruce Peninsula. “It showed us a lot about what it takes to be really good singers and gave us an authentic alternative to some of the more contrived, affected singing that happens in indie rock.”

Judging by what’s come my way, Bruce Peninsula seems to deliver one of the most authentic vocal performances I’ve heard in quite a while. All eleven members — Matt Cully, Misha Bower, Neil Haverty, Andrew Barker, Steve McKay, Isla Craig, Katie Stelmanis, Casey Mecija, Kari Peddle, Maya Postepski, and Leon Tahen contribute to the choir. The band has begun work on their first record which I predict will make some serious waves, pun half intended. Haverty tells me it’s being recorded all over Toronto, most recently at St. George the Martyr, a huge Anglican church.

Even with quite a smaller budget than Canadian cohort’s The Arcade Fire’s church project, also known as Neon Bible, there’s reason to believe that this record will have some serious soul. This notion is reinforced not only by one of Final Fantasy’s engineers (Leon Taheny) manning the knobs and contributing musically, but also by the painstaking construction of the dense vocal parts that the band takes such pride in.

Understandably reluctant to pigeonhole themselves in any stylistic niche, Haverty, under duress, suggests a similarity to pop experimentalists like Smog, The Dirty Projectors, and Bonnie “Prince” Billy. “I was once told that we sound like Will Oldham fronting an aboriginal women’s choir,” Haverty says.

I can’t imagine that could be taken as anything less than a compliment, especially for this culturally fascinated super group, although I have trouble hearing it. I suppose its not hard to believe when you consider that BP has been playing Washington Phillips and Vera Ward Hall covers since day one, which have also been covered in recent years by Mr. Oldham himself.

“We’ve been careful not to play too much,” Haverty says, “because a band that plays any gig that comes their way is either going to burn out really fast or make people sick of them.” This maturity is rare in bands who haven’t even dropped their first record, and speaks volumes about these Canadians who may soon make every hipster in North America add Alan Lomax to their record rotation.

JULY 2007 - MONDO - LIVE REVIEW

2008-09-25T12:03:00.001-07:00

The members of Bruce Peninsula walked from the back of the pews onto the stage, sporting various percussion instruments. I can't describe Bruce Peninsula's music with reference to any single pre-existing musical style in particular, and I can't imagine better praise for a band. Clearly, the four female vocalists were singing in a style redolent of American folk and labour songs, hence the "Lomax" thing (Alan Lomax being the United States' pre-eminent folk-musicologist of the 20th century). And yet, their vibraphone pulled the band in another, jazzy direction, while the electric guitars pushed Bruce Peninsula into the instrumental indie of, say, The Advantage. Sometimes even the vocals switched into more of a pop music mode, recalling Fleetwood Mac more than The Carter Family. Add seamless transitions in-between songs and some sweet call and response and you have BrucePeninsulamusic, and it's wonderful.

JULY 2007 - RADIOFREECANUCKISTAN - LIVE REVIEW

2008-09-25T12:01:00.000-07:00

The highlight for many was Bruce Peninsula, a new Toronto band that's evolved over the space of ten gigs in the last year. Rooted in traditional spirituals and blues, the rugged gospel vocals are shared by a female choir and guitarist /marimba man Neil Haverty, with a dextrous rhythm section behind them that have obviously been schooled by the Thrill Jockey roster while simultaneously soaking up the Alan Lomax collection.

But the specifics aren't as important here as the effect it had on the audience. There's an inherent joy in seeing a family band such as this: mixed gender, choral vocals, and melodies meant to uplift and offer some glimpse of salvation. The staging helped, as well: an ever-so-slightly-sloped tiny natural ampitheatre, where the stage was set in a beautiful orchard; one had to peer through tree branches to see some band members.

Because of the size of the band (approx. nine or ten, if my sunstroked memory serves correctly), they obviously had many friends in the tightly knit audience. But for everyone else, it was one of those moments where with each successive song, you could feel everyone around you falling deeper in love and losing themselves in the joy of the moment. Applause and enthusiasms increased exponentially after each song, with some even moved to tears. These are the moments that every music fan lives for, the kind that are all too often spoiled by hype machines both macro and micro. Even writing about this now seems to sully the special moment.

JULY 2007 - EYE DAILY - LIVE REVIEW

2008-09-25T12:00:00.000-07:00

Neil Haverty's newest gospel-pop-folk incarnation, Bruce Peninsula, followed with a jaw-dropping show that was still being raved about well into the next day (and shouldn't be missed at their upcoming Music Gallery show) The whimsical banners of the stage set made me think for a moment I was at the Nimus Festival, and it was not unlike being present at the initiation rites of a new religion, whose tenets were as yet unclear. Impeccably rehearsed and beautifully arranged, the vocal parts of the five exceptional women singers wove in and out of — and sometimes marched through — the gorgeous and fully-realized guitar melodies of Haverty and company. No easy musical comparisons come to mind, though the unabashed joyfulness was somewhat like Danielson Famile without the self-consciousness, and when the band (after inadvertently trashing the stage) joined the audience in the grass and led a gospel singalong, the love-in was consummated.