Analysis: A Mountain is a Mouth

This post is part of the Garneau District Album Club, in which we listen to and comment on a new album a month, much like a book club. I invite our members to post their thoughts in the comment section of this post. For more information about the Album Club, click here.

I have only been in a real choir once. It was for the Edmonton LDS Institute and I only signed up because the girl I was dating wanted me too. But even though we broke up halfway through the season, I stuck with the class until our final concert in Calgary. There, we joined up with two other Alberta choirs to form a gigantic singing group. The first number we sang together was one that slowly built from a quiet begining to a thundering climax. I still remember how it felt when the entire three-part choir sang its first measures in booming unison: it was as if a gigantic wave of pure voices suddenly and completely engulfed me. It was a powerful and moving sensation. Bruce Penensula’s album reminded me of that experience.

Sure, listening to this album is not exactly the same as singing in a large choir, but when I put on my best headphones and crank up the volume, A mountain is a Mouth surrounds and absorbs me more than any other album I have heard for a long time. In fact, after experiencing this album (I say ‘experiencing’ because ‘listening’ doesn’t seem a powerful enough verb), all my other music seems bland by comparison.

This is an album that demands your full attention. It demands to be played at a high volume. And it demands to be heard from start to finish. To listen to it in any other way would deprive the audience from realizing its true magnificence. Sure, the songs are good in themselves, but when I first listened to a couple of them by themselves, I had now idea how much better they would be when played how I described above. Doing so transforms these individual pieces into a force of nature: a tsunami that completely engulfs and absorbs the listener. The quite introduction of “Inside/Outside” is like spotting the massive wave in the distance. Over the course of that song, the wave silently nears the shore, coming closer and closer, until the full band kicks in and the wave slams into you. For several songs, the water carries you inland over towns and forests, destroying everything in its path, until it finally quiets down enough to deposit you on the highlands during “Weave Myself a Dress.” Then the water slowly retreats over the final few songs until it disappears back into the sea.

Undoubtedly, Bruce Peninsula’s power comes directly from the voice’s of its choir, with its rock instrumentation enhancing but never overshadowing the band’s many voices. With their powerful lead singer, their group sing-alongs, their driving beats and their dark-gospel themed music, Bruce Peninsula seems to be Arcade Fire taken to its logical conclusion. I liked Neon Bible, but I absolutely love A Mountain is a Mouth.

In many ways, Bruce Peninsula is a band out of its time. The the greatest indication being their roots in gospel choirs and the early twentieth century folk musician, Alan Lomax: this music seems to be that of an nineteenth century traveling preacher calling down fire and brimstone onto the unbelievers. Also, A Mountain is a Mouth completely unconcerned with modern life, instead crafting songs about nature: mountains, floods, forest fires, and wolves.

But despite sounding like something from 1909, A Mountain is a Mouth will definitely be a front-runner when I compile a list of my favourite albums of 2009. Absolutely breathtaking.