Mount Mural is one of those bands that make people obsess over sub-genres. Are they shoegaze? Slowcore? Post-punk, art-rock, or dreampop? Whatever flavor is your favorite, if you love bands that use tons of swirly effects on their guitars, layering synths, samples, and electronic sounds over drums and bass, vocals lovingly saturated in reverb, then Toronto’s Mount Mural might be your new favorite band.
Starting with their debut EP in 2018, Mount Mural has consistently demonstrated a polished sound, even as it has grown and evolved, experimenting with song structures and making deliberate choices about which influences to lean into. Since their initial release, Mount Mural has released several singles, each one gradually introducing new sounds and motifs, driving or atmospheric by turn. But each one was a bit different – each one was a single. With their latest LP, Mount Mural has crafted something entirely distinct from their previous work.
This album is an album. Although it is full of powerful, absorbing tracks, the band’s intention is clear: you need to listen to this all the way through, in one sitting, with the best-quality headphones or speakers you can muster. Songs flow and segue into each other, sometimes recalling previous songs, ebbing and flowing like an inexorable current pulling you downstream. I hesitate to call this a masterpiece, because only time will be able to judge that, but let me say that if this album doesn’t massively increase their current 861 Spotify listeners (this is the part where we say, “Boo!” to Spotify), something is seriously wrong with this world (it’s probably Spotify).
The first song, “Syntax”, starts with a whir and uptempo drums under fuzzy guitars, a steady bassline gluing everything together. When the vocals come in (sung on this song by the usual multi-instrumentalist Kyle Gottschalk), they are barely audible, hovering in the folds of chorus and echo of a wall of sound, until gradually building in loudness along with the rest of the song. Then, halfway through, the intensity decreases slightly into an instrumental interlude that blends seamlessly with the beginning of the next song.
“Froze” is befitting of its name, but it is not cold or unfeeling. Instead, it’s like a warm, heavy blanket that you curl into as the winter storm rages outside. Singer and lyricist Clayton McMillan has a haunting, delicate voice that excels when it’s at its most mournful, and it is introduced tenderly on this song. But the next, “Everyone”, explodes by comparison, musically a love letter to My Bloody Valentine. McMillan’s lyrics are emotional and paint pictures, but mysterious enough that each listener can imprint their own experiences onto them.
“Soon” is described by the band in an Instagram post as a country-rock song, but that can only be a tribute to the sliding guitar lines, as this track shares more in common with Mazzy Star than anything I would label country-rock (which probably says more about the fluidity of genres than anything about my opinion). In any case, it is a captivating song, although much of the action is concentrated in the first half; the second half fades into “Evan’s Song”, a 51-second segue that leads into the next.
“Falling Through The Mirror” weaves electronic drums and samples into the mix. This trend continues for the rest of the album, smoothly incorporating synth sounds and effects, and sometimes replacing guitar and bass. As throughout the album, vocals recede in the mix, emerging for emphasis, sometimes serving as an additional layer rather than a lead. “Pattern Fades” also features haunting vocals by Ida Maidstone, which blend with and circle Clayton McMillian’s. I couldn’t help but be reminded of classic vocal pairings like Jim Reid and Hope Sandoval on “Sometimes Always”, even though the songs are miles apart stylistically.
“Lonely Sun” awakens you from your trance, ramping up the intensity with loud tom-tom drums and no less than three credits for screaming performances. Now, in this case, screaming and intensity are relative terms. This album is a steady journey down a meandering, if insistent, river, and it never veers into full-out rage or anger, musically or lyrically. But in context, this feels like it builds and builds, until crashing you into the final song on the album.
“Pause” feels like it should be the last song, almost taking a deep breath by allowing some space at the beginning. It’s an epilogue that does not explain what you’ve just been through, but sits with you as you unpack your emotions. This feeling is made especially appropriate with its repeating refrain:
I’m just here,
To reveal
The end
This is less ballad than lament, a sadness that our journey together is over, but holding onto hope that another river awaits.
I feel strongly that Mount Mural is a band that deserves more attention. Each member of the group displays high levels of skill and artistry on their respective instruments, and you get the sense of a band with a vision and a understanding of its own identity. This new album is set to drop on July 23, and a lucky few will have the opportunity to catch their LP release show in Toronto on August 6.
Written by Dylan Steele
