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Writer's pictureEmilia von dem Hagen

Rearrange Us shows Mt. Joy’s growth since their debut


Following months of build-up, Mt. Joy finally released their sophomore album Rearrange Us this past Friday. Though 8 of the 13 tracks had already been released as singles or pairs prior, seeing them all strung together to complete the album’s story seems to give each song a whole new meaning.

It has to be noted that the album’s release was pretty poor timing, to say the very least. In the midst of worldwide protests against police brutality and systemic racism, the band shared a post last week saying that though it was too late to postpone the release, there would “be no celebration for now." They pledged to donate 100% of album profits from the first week to Campaign Zero, “a nonprofit dedicated to ending police violence.”

With Rearrange Us, Mt. Joy keeps bits of the indie-rock style that defined their 2018 debut album while experimenting with all sorts of new synthy sounds --- an expanded style that speaks to the band’s growth over these past few years.


But it’s really the story-telling arc of the songs that I love the most about this record. The songs’ progression takes us through the different stages of some heartbreak catastrophe and conveys how such experiences quite literally ‘rearrange us.' It reminds me of the idea of “positive disintegration” – that over and over in life you fall apart and then put the pieces of yourself back together, but always in a different way. Rearranged.

Immediately from Bug Eyes, the opener, you know we're in for something good. The song starts off deceptively as an acoustic ballad before the pulse takes off 2 minutes in as lead singer Matt Quinn intensifies his vocals. The lyrics and tone are a bit cryptic, making it hard to know exactly what emotion he’s trying to convey, and I think that’s the point. The only clarity comes towards the very end when backing vocals build up with him singing over and over --- “to live and die and see the world through someone else’s eyes." It's such a powerful peak, and to twist the knife at the end all instruments suddenly subside for Quinn to deliver the final lethal line on his own.

We then groove into the title track, one of my favourites. It makes for such easy listening – the main guitar riff and melody fade into your head, and the lyrics add the perfect amount of reflection – “Come on, rearrange us / and tell us that the pain don't change much at all / It's just a part of growing up." I especially love the line “I wonder how the future knew what we were supposed to do” – the way that hindsight always makes it seem like everything past was meant to happen the way it did.

Let Loose is the other ‘easy listen’ of the album, though it takes a turn and barrels into a rock jam towards the end. It’s a sweet love song about sticking with a relationship while you both age out of youth (“Watch that snow fall on the remains of our youth / Just pull me in and don’t let loose”).

I have mixed feelings about Have Faith, the 45 second intermission – or so it feels. On the one hand, it’s sort of a disruptive jolt in the otherwise cohesive curve of the album and I don’t think it adds much. But it’s cool to hear the band trying out this gospel style with that organ synth. Maybe next time we’ll get something more complete.


Luckily, the wavy energy of My Vibe brings us back on track. The band has described this one to be "about learning to let yourself have fun when you’ve been feeling down.” Simple enough, but this isn’t particularly a song that I’d put on for happy energy. The intensity of the instrumentals and the repeating “move ‘til you feel better” feel too anxiety-driven.

And if you're looking for that, you have Acrobats – a song “about walking yourself back from the ledge during a panic attack.” Given the heaviness of its subject I rarely listen to this one, but I really admire the way they handle it. Everything about this song captures its story – the chaotic barreling of the instruments, the fade of his voice, and of course the specificity of the lyrics: “Look alive, don't hurt yourself, touch your body / realize your surroundings / count five things in the room / ’cause no one is dying soon.”

Every Holiday is another song of the album that centers in on mental illness. There’s such a fittingly somber malaise to this one as Quinn sings about the struggle of living with depression (“Merry Christmas babe, I hope we make it through”). Pianist Jackie Miclau leads the heart-sinking melody and the instrumental portion she shares with the brass at 2:30 is gorgeous. I'm not really one for blues holiday ballads, but I do think this is one done well.

The energy then doesn't stay there for long: we're swirled back up again with Come With Me, a happy-go-lucky ode to “getting that swagger back.” The song has such a youthful idealism, right from the opening line – “All of us will not be returning / we lend our hearts to the burning flame." The tune’s naïve playfulness is enriched by some beautiful lyrics – among my favourites, from verse 2 --- “’Cause these are the days that we dreamed of / painting our lives as the time starts to fly." Obviously this song is to be avoided for those who can't stand a little corniness, but the wannabe-hippie in me can't get enough of its energy.

Death is undoubtedly another album favourite. Its tune got tirelessly stuck in my head after a single listen – how could a chorus of “oo la las" not? In a post with its release, the band gave context to the song's meaning by saying that “sometimes just the awareness of death can bring us anxiety," and Death is to serve as a reminder to get out of your head and reconnect with the life around you. “Get your mind off it boy / There’s room to grow."

The record’s four final songs offer its overarching narrative: "Witness”, "Us", "Become", "Strangers” – a stunning break-up saga when listened to in their intended order.


Witness and Us both cling to the memories of a failed relationship and make the necessary room for pure sadness. The start of the second verse of Witness always pierces a bit, as the melancholic piano creeps in while Quinn softly confesses --- “Can everybody see how a woman changed me / Does my darkness start to leak?” The instrumentation is beautiful, especially the build-up two minutes in with the piano melody painting all over the background.

Us strips everything back before seamlessly transitioning into Become, in which we finally feel the singer letting go of his past. He leaves all of the pain of the album in this one before picking up the spirit with Strangers, the album’s upbeat finale. I love the choice to end in this way, singing happily about how it all comes down to falling in love with strangers. This song is desperate but optimistic, and I like that it doesn’t sugar coat the experience that we’ve been listening to so far. As happy as the melody is, Quinn repeats “I am over you” as if only trying to convince himself, and finally, the last lines of the record affirm its mantra: “I did not want our love to be erased / But Lord knows we chased it / Love just rearranged us.”

This album captures all of the highs and lows of the colourful experiences that ‘rearrange us.' Needless to say, it was well worth the wait.


As always, happy listening!

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