From the outset, at least three things are working against the Mountain Goats’ Through This Fire Across From Peter Balkan. Generally speaking, one has to be in a certain mood to listen to The Mountain Goats. A person, therefore, has to be in a particular mood to dig into one of their concept albums. All this is to suggest that one must be in a rare state to listen to a musical by the band. Yet, the Mountain Goats have asked fans to do just that, and despite a flimsy premise, they largely succeed in bringing listeners into their elaborate and ultimately tender world.
Through This Fire Across From Peter Balkan, which came to frontman John Darnielle in a dream, follows a somewhat standard musical template. Like the Who’s Tommy, the mother of all rock operas, before it, this score begins with “Overture”, a sample of the forthcoming music. In addition, the story opens with a coming-of-age tale, which connects to the seafaring subject matter. “Fishing Boat” speaks to the joys of being free on a fishing boat at 16, but also forecasts the peril that lies ahead: “Immense out on the grand horizon / As a thunderhead taking form.” True to form, it ends with a (relatively buoyant) reappraisal of the world as we know it.
The record was produced by multi-instrumentalist Matt Douglas, who also co-wrote a handful of the songs. Douglas sees himself as a maximalist, and that approach becomes the record’s dominant quality, as it is adorned with the strings, layered instruments (including synth, pedal steel, harp, and fretless bass), and features guest contributions from the Replacements‘ Tommy Stinson and none other than Lin-Manuel Miranda (who gives the music a modish sound). Douglas’ heavy touch, often punctuated with booming drums, proves to be just what the record needs.
The story revolves around a small crew of 16 on a ship that was caught in a storm, with only three of them surviving to wash ashore on a deserted island. Those still living include the narrator, Captain Peter Balkan, and a man named Adam. They have limited resources and contend with more than just physical survival, as they struggle to maintain their sanity, as can be heard in both comical and heartrending ways on the track “Peru”. “You were already talking when I woke up today / For a man on combat rations / You sure to find a lot to say.”
For as vivid as the scenes seem and inventive as the band prove, there isn’t a substantial story here. Of course, the musical includes no book to accompany it, so we are meant to understand the events through song alone; however, the tale seems relatively simple. In fact, the events are largely spelled out in a couple bars on “Armies of the Lord” (spoiler alert): “Sixteen to three now down to two / Soon it will just be you.”
One predominant theme, and the most compelling, concerns the tenderness with which these men exist, whether it’s looking at the others through a fire or applying a bandage to another’s temple. For all the tired jokes about homosexuality at sea, there is a homosocial element to how these shipmates exist, to the point where listeners are asked to feel deeply for these (rather nondescript) individuals. “Your Glow”, which channels the Postal Service, speaks to something bigger than can be conceived of in this world.
Even with that sentiment in mind, the most problematic element becomes the elusive question of why we should care. In many ways, this particular fable is moving, but the outsized music doesn’t make up for what a stage would offer. That is the central challenge with releasing a soundtrack without the musical, as opposed to the other way around. After seeing Rent or Hamilton, one can find endless pleasure in reliving the spectacle with just a pair of earbuds, but that phenomenon doesn’t cut both ways.
Some of the tracks work best when they extend beyond the shores of the island, which is less of a critique on the musical than a salute to Darnielle and company. “Rocks in My Pockets” feels like it could fit on their classic album, The Sunset Tree (2005). With guitar strumming, piano flourishes, and some of their strongest metaphors to date: “Some people name their cars, or their guitars / Some things are too fragile to name / Some things are made for the spotlight / Some live at the edge of the frame.” It’s destined to become an oft-recited classic.
Through This Fire Across From Peter Balkan loses steam toward the end, but it’s a valiant effort nonetheless. When the Mountain Goats made the record announcement some months back, the concept alone sounded fearless, and they very nearly pulled it off. What’s most remarkable is how, over the course of a dozen tracks, musical motifs emerge with lasting power, a testament to the musical format. We may never know much about Peter Balkan, Adam, or even the narrator, but the story of brotherhood and friendship will live on, just as other yarns from the sea did for some boy on a fishing boat still learning to float.