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Local Guides
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Bruce Peninsula
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by Shain Shapiro
January 29 – February 4, 2009 |
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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.
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