Album Review: Man Mountain - Threads of Another Life

The main thing that you need to know about Man Mountain is that they are on the lifelong quest for Toan. Toan is everything to them. I spent some time with the guys last July and we stopped in at Sweetwater – the biggest music shop in the world – and spent hours there. All in the pursuit of that sweet, sweet Toan. Jacob (drums) used a different snare on every track on this new album, so clearly he’s on that Toan journey. David (bass) even named his business after it: Detroit Tube & Tone.

Jokes aside, Man Mountain put a lot of energy into meticulously crafting their sound. I said as much when I was reviewing their first album, Infinity Mirror. Things have been pretty quiet for a while. The covid pandemic halted a lot of things, and Man Mountain went to ground, quietly writing and recording when live gigs needed to be paused. That break took a bit longer than they expected, but they’re returning to the stage again and building momentum along with the album rollout.

I’m blessed to be friends with the guys in Man Mountain, and have seen them play a handful of times on the two American tours I’ve done with Ranges (2017, and 2025). Admittedly, I can get pretty moody when on tour (probably when not on tour as well…). The late nights, long drives, lack of personal space and fast food diet all take their toll on the body. And then I was also drinking a fair bit on that first tour as well. But the guys of Man Mountain were never short of super hospitable – very fun, generous and genuine guys. I think Mid-Westerners are known for it. They took me back to Michigan with them for a few days at the end of my American trip last year and that was easily the highlight of my trip. They’re solid dudes with big hearts.

I don’t have synesthesia, but I can’t help but visualise warm yellow light when I picture their music. In 2017 they had a work light rigged up with a foot switch, that they’d stomp on during the big moments of their songs to add visual dynamics to their set. It was simple, but very effective. They had to retire that after too many people complained about being blinded by it, which I find hilarious. I think they had a few stories about how it was enough to blow fuse boards at venues they were playing too, stopping the gig mid-set as all the electricity goes out.

On the 2025 tour, they had beautiful Edison lamps onstage with them, adding a really nice homely feel to their set. And last time I saw them play, at Spacebar in Columbus, OH, the venue had a bunch of Edison bulbs as well. I think that warm glow complements their aesthetic so well. This is the visual I conjure up when I think of them so I’m pleased to see that the album art follows this thinking. The cover features streetlights snaking along a winding road, and one vinyl variant is actual called Streetlight. Clearly the artist derived the same ideas I did from the music, and encapsulated that feeling so well within the art.

Here are photos from the first and last time I saw Man Mountain play, showing those stage lights in action:

Man Mountain at W. Cross Station in Ypsilanti, October 2017

Man Mountain at Spacebar in Columbus, OH, July 2025

I’ve been listening to this album for a year now. Jacob sent me the tracks to listen to well before they’d finalised things like album art. And I’d always derived that feeling of light in the darkness from the music. I’d never actually discussed the themes or inspirations of the album with the guys, but I just read the press release, and it makes total sense.

“While we didn’t start out with a central theme, it quickly became apparent as we assembled the full collection of songs for this album that each track was inspired by a particular stage of the pandemic,” explains guitarist Mike Reaume. “The names were chosen later to hint at the various stages, but it basically follows our journey from the hopeful and inspired beginnings, through the in-between phase where we felt like everything was sort of stuck in a timeless limbo.”

That tracks completely. This music is hopeful, yearning. It’s dreamy. But it’s also rooted in something heavier.

Listening to this album is like swimming. There’s always that touch of weightlessness, like floating in a warm body of water on a nice day. There are times when you think about the unknowable creatures that may lurk in the depths below, and sometimes a small wave may push you around a bit, but for the most part it’s just a wonderfully serene time.

This may be a redundant statement by virtue of applying to almost all music anyway, but I want to stress that you will be richly rewarded if you listen to Threads of Another Life through quality speakers or headphones. Sometimes I’m just pottering around the house doing chores, and I may have the album playing on a bluetooth speaker and it sounds good. But then plugging it into something a bit better, like the speakers I have hooked up to an amp, really brings the music to life. Jacob and David do a wonderous job of holding down the bottom end, keeping it grounded. And Mike and Bryan bring us to celestial peaks. They really cover the sonic spectrum well. The crisp cymbals, the warm swells, the deep bass – they really come to life with full dynamics. These guys are toanhunters, and you’ve got to respect their quest.

I’ve been listening to this album for a year. Without album art, without knowing the title. Just the music. Great music. And then I finally learnt the the name of the album – Threads of Another Life – and I was surprised to see this fact in the press kit:

The album’s title takes inspiration from The Lord of the Rings, referencing Frodo Baggins’ reflection: “How do you pick up the threads of an old life?”

Then I realise: I have a subtle connection to the album’s title. I was bestowed the nickname Baggins on that first tour – probably because Lord of the Rings was famously filmed in New Zealand. And the album is named after a Baggins quote. Please stop – my ego can only get so big. But jokes aside, the title obviously works, considering how the music is a reflection on how the pandemic altered the world. And I also love that it’s a reference to a fantastical adventure. It seems very fitting.

Man Mountain playing Gold Sounds in Brooklyn, NY

My bias is clearly showing. These guys are my friends, and I’ve shared some great experiences with them. NZ is such a small country, with a tiny population, that going on tour as a band just isn’t very viable here for the most part. So touring with bands in America always feels like a wild dream, a big adventure. Touring can be incredibly mundane, comprising mostly of long drives and gas stations pit stops. But there was always a sense of surrealism too – even the boring parts were a bit exciting because it’s just so different from New Zealand. We don’t have as many late night pizza joints, that’s for sure! Going through experiences like that can help forge incredibly strong bonds.

I feel a bit silly, reviewing an album without touching on the music much. To me, this album sounds like friendship. It evokes a warm, homely glow; a reassuring light in dark times. This album encapsulates the vibes of midwestern hospitality, of authenticity and integrity. There is true craftmanship in these compositions. It’s a grand, masterful album and I cannot do it justice by trying to describe it. Do yourself a favour and listen to it for yourselves.