On stage, A Silver Mt. Zion does not face the audience. They face themselves, huddled together in a circle surrounded by strings, guitars, effects pedals and amps. You see, A Silver Mt. Zion loves the periphery. They thrive in it. Other than the bands containing current members, these folk sound like no one else. Yes, post-rock comes to mind, or something stylistically symmetrical to it. There are quiet sections, loud sections, that ominous and atonal brood filtering in and out that conjures up the odd pathetic fallacy or haunted house, but with this Montreal lot post-rock doesn't cut it. That’s because A Silver Mt. Zion is defined more by their image than their music. That is because it is, always has been, the politics and business strategy that circumscribe the music that overpowers.

The bar is quite high tonight. A Silver Mt. Zion, or Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra and Tra-La-La Band as their full name calls, is received with high anticipation. But all this expectation, this weight that staples itself to their image, is trouble from the beginning. There is too much wanting with this band. Their songs bellow and moan to save the world, but no one can save the world. Right away as they sit in a circle around their instruments, the audience is hushed, over appreciative, as if an elder is speaking around a campfire. Mythic sure, but onward bound, the politics prove more powerful than the music. It is an act, a scaffold to hide mediocre melody, buttress buoyancy and ride expectation. It's so mediocre. Powerfully mediocre.

The first number tonight, ‘I made a metal bird/and I fed my metal bird/on the wings of another metal bird’ is a song, not a manifesto its namesake attunes. It belches sordid and metaphorical lyrics, but with little annunciation. It's loud and confident, but after fifteen minutes, another song with the long title is on the outs and little remains. These notes, yelps and squeals should mean much more. As a standalone example of post-rock mingling with its fringes, there is little worth digging through. It's merely faceless politik. A couple chord changes here mixed with some monotonous rhythms there. With the image and leftist sway behind it, this is a strong spoke in a powerful wheel. As an individual song, there is better elsewhere.

Same goes for half of the new album (minus all those needless untitled tracks), ‘100,000 Died to Make This Sound’ and ‘13 Blues for Thirteen Moons’. The songs are similar; not identical, but similar and tirelessly long. The climaxes come and go through wafts of guitar groans, drum blasts and violin pokes, making some moments better than others. But these songs on their own are painfully boring. Aside from the music they liken New Jersey to New Labour and chortle with the audience on the ills of the capitalist ethos - powerful ethos maybe, but the songs plateau too quickly. They follow the same structural tendencies - focus on the vocals at first before leaving the strings in charge, then the strings quiet down for more vocals and then blast forth with full steam until the end. What should be engrossing twists and turns through the loud and quiet feels drab and predictable.

Still, A Silver Mt. Zion is a strong sight to behold. Seven songs fill two hours, their musicianship is impressive when their backs aren’t turned to the audience and the medium beneath their message is admirable. 'BlindBlindBlind', a song about loving your friends, exemplifies this. Plus the song is shorter, punchier and less meandering. For a moment it showcases what makes this band brilliant; that is, a demonic collective playing to placate their own demons.

But this is momentary, never permanent or lasting. This is Montreal's fangled A Silver Mt. Zion. I expect a lot more. Maybe this is the problem. The politics override the music, ultimately masking mediocrity, as A Silver Mt. Zion is just a band. Nothing else. I’m sorry I assumed otherwise.