Modest Mouse - An Indie-Rock Derailment

“Our music as disordered and poetic rock? I don’t know. We’ve been labeled in so many ways… I think definitions are only useful to journalists, it’s such a limiting thing,” Modest Mouse reply to anyone who asks how their music might be pigeonholed. A band capable of conjuring countless impressions, able to satisfy “many people, if not everyone,” and precisely for that reason hard to categorize: the sounds generated by Isaac Brock (guitar and vocals), Jeremiah Green (drums) and Eric Judy (bass) can't be filed under so-called post-rock, nor anywhere near it. Some have compared them to Pixies, but on that point Isaac has stated: “Pixies? They don't exactly blow us away, we'd much rather be compared to Red Red Meat (a Chicago band that released four albums in the Nineties). Too bad nobody ever has…”.

The only certainty about these three young guys (all barely in their twenties) is that they'll have more to say in the future, without underselling what they've already achieved.

Modest Mouse's origins date back to 1994, in Issaquah, Washington, where Isaac, Jeremiah and Eric managed to put out a self-titled album on K Records. It's a raw, unpolished work, but one that hints at the trio's enormous potential. The sound recalls a troubled kind of indie-rock, where Isaac's guitar alternates between harsh and melancholic moments before sliding into furious noise. In 1995 they left K Records for Sub Pop. After a few singles, within two years they put out two albums: This Is A Long Drive For Someone With Nothing To Think About in 1996 and The Lonesome Crowded West in 1997. Both records show subtle but significant influences from bands like Built To Spill and Dinosaur Jr, especially on tracks like “Out Of Gas” and “Shit Luck” from “The Lonesome Crowded West”. And it's precisely thanks to this record that Modest Mouse caught the attention of both audiences and the specialist press, eventually drawing the interest of a major label like Epic, which signed them in 1998.

Fears arose that the move to a major label might lead to compromises “with certain market logics,” but Isaac was very clear on the matter: “Epic is interested in the way we make music, all they care about is getting our record to as many places as possible, they're just trying to make as much money as possible. The advantage for us is having better tools to record the songs, for instance, or having much less precarious resources than an independent label can offer you”. And The Moon And Antarctica clearly shows that the band didn't have to make any kind of compromise. A striking, moving and beautifully crafted album, which alternates post-punk moments like “A Different City” (perhaps the best track on the record) with others marked by a melancholic irony heightened by Isaac's voice (the gorgeous “Alone Down There”).

But it's the ability to merge different inspirations that makes The Moon And Antarctica one of the most interesting albums in the new American musical landscape: alongside the acidic, furious melancholy that is Modest Mouse's trademark, there are tracks with a psychedelic pulse like “Life Like Weeds” and “The Stars and Projectors”, a song that runs close to ten minutes without ever allowing the listener a single moment of distraction, as well as others steeped in country-folk atmospheres, like “Paper Thin Walls”.
The band's lyrics, for that matter, are likewise marked by opposing feelings: from the desire to run away, far from family and friends, to the fear of being left alone, cast out; the only common thread is the intimate, personal dimension that comes through in their words. Speaking precisely about the different moods that alternate in their songs, Isaac has stated: “I just try to be as honest as possible. I try to make it so people can relate to what they're hearing, so they can understand what I feel when I'm sad, when I'm happy… it's a positive thing, I don't like being cryptic, I don't like putting up a wall between me and whoever's listening to Modest Mouse”.

The following Sad Sappy Sucker contains a full thirty-four songs for a total running time just over thirty-five minutes. It's a sort of retrospective of the band's earliest recordings. An overview that lets you fully grasp the rapid evolution of Brock's songwriting and Modest Mouse's sound, from their initial rough, noisy bare-bones approach to the more elaborate, melodically more mature constructions that marked their first releases for Up Records. Schizophrenic shifts, different directions even within the same song, lyrics that wander off, taking decidedly unconventional turns. All this from a young band that could clearly still grow further.

Claiming that Good News For People Who Love Bad News (Epic, 2004) brings good news to everyone might seem like a stretch, yet, once you dig into the album's concept, it seems to be the plain and simple truth. A record rich in melodies, more immediate than ever before, a sparing toning-down of their relentless, obsessive style, and a course set toward shores on the border between derailing indie-rock and quality pop. Guitarist Dan Gallucci joins the band, there's a temporary change on drums (Jeremiah Green would return for the next album), but above all this is the moment of true mainstream consecration. Not just a niche concern anymore, but open to an ever-wider audience (the single “Float On” would become a delightfully inescapable hit).
The pace, in truth, is still lopsided and uncertain, where the deliberate sense of ramshackle looseness is the raw material for tracks laced with dark, fragmentary, explosive irony. There are overt tributes to Tom Waits (“The Devil's Workday”) and no shortage of moments akin to The Moon & Antarctica (“Bury Me With It” and “Satin In A Coffin”), yet surprising (though later revealed to be no accident) are the funky openings of “Dance Hall” and the Gang Of Four-like legacy in “The View”. Then there's the mild sunshine of the ballads (“Ocean Breathes Salty”), the chimes underscored by a hushed crescendo (“The World At Large”) and the restrained psychedelia of “Black Cadillacs”. All of it in full Modest Mouse style, always skewed, dirty and bittersweet, but with a freshness so classy it will win over even those who never had any fondness for this kind of sound.

The follow-up, anticipated and in its own way inevitable, is then that We Were Dead Before The Ship Even Sank (Epic, 2007), to which, with a bit of initial surprise, Johnny Marr is added, having officially joined the band. The class remains intact, even if it comes across as more conventional than on previous records. An album that, in theory, could prove far more influential than their past work, given the appeal the Brock-led band had by then attained. Tightness, meticulous care in the arrangements, nods to a certain kind of funk and to specific British sounds. And yet the underlying substance remains the same (the spoken-word delivery of “Missed The Boat”, the cramped caverns of a “Parting Of The Sensory” destined for a stunning string-driven climax), just less piercing in the concreteness of the songs. Echoes of certain indie acts (Built To Spill above all) blend with a well-studied new wave sensibility: so Gang Of Four make a concrete comeback (“We've Got Everything”, enhanced by a cameo from James Mercer of the Shins) and the most credible post-Smiths song yet is written (“People As Places As People”), but there's no shortage of awkward pop (“Fire It Up”) and Waits-like drift in the emotional crescendo of the aforementioned “Parting Of The Sensory”. What sets it apart, as mentioned, is the greater attention paid to guitar dynamics (certainly not unrelated to Marr's arrival), showcased in arrangements more carefully crafted than ever before.

The much-awaited Strangers To Ourselves (Epic, 2015) arrives eight years after its predecessor. This time there's no longer longtime bassist Eric Judy or guest star Johnny Marr on guitar. There are, however, many years of touring weighing on the band, which, according to frontman Isaac Brock, slowed down work on a new record. The tenderness of the opening track, which shares its title with the album, is disarming, emblematic of those two restless souls within Modest Mouse, so much so that it recalls the saccharine incipit of The Moon & Antarctica. A fine opening followed by an odd collection of songs. Between nods to Arcade Fire ("Lampshades Of Fire", "Wicked Campaign"), Timber Timbre ("Shit In Your Cut", "Be Brave") and Talking Heads ("Ansel", "The Ground Walks With Time In A Box"), with two detours into rap and pop that end up in a mess ("Pistol (A. Cunanan, Miami, FL. 1996)", "Sugar Boats"), Strangers To Ourselves is at times a wearisome album, with few new ideas capable of holding one's attention all the way through.
The unevenness that characterizes it — probably also a result of the five different producers involved (Brock himself, Clay Jones, Brian Deck, Tucker Martine, Andrew Weiss) — could have been a strength, but instead leaves the record feeling overly frayed. Still, this is a band with top-tier songwriting and arrangement skills, always looking to expand its sonic palette (on this record, for instance, we even find metallophones and brass).
Strangers To Ourselves will likely turn out to be yet another departure, if only because repeating a record like this would prove sterile for Modest Mouse. More extreme solutions might be advisable, ones that venture into unknown territory not just in terms of texture, but also songwriting, usually Brock's strong suit.

After the previous, misleading step, Modest Mouse return to having fun and experimenting with songwriting. The Golden Casket (Epic, 2021) is indeed an airy, imaginative album, six years in the making, produced this time not just by the band itself but also by two notable figures, Dave Sardy (Enon, Jet, Oasis, LCD Soundsystem, Band of Horses) and Jacknife Lee (Snow Patrol, Bloc Party, Hives, Editors), recorded between Portland and Los Angeles.
To break free from the confusion, gloom and exhaustion, they head down the road of an indie pop-rock that swings between English post-punk — not surprisingly, behind the console are the architects of several revivalist hits of the 2000s — and Australian psych-pop, landing somewhere between Arcade Fire and Tropical Fuck Storm. The record reminds us just how good Isaac Brock and co. are at writing great songs, playing with genre and having fun in the studio, managing to give the band's signature sound a synthetic, ethereal quality too, in a kaleidoscope of instruments and timbres ("The Sun Hasn't Left"). The album closes with a bang, "Back To The Middle", a statement of songwriting maturity for the band that (finally) tells us about both its past and its future.

The tenth outing from Modest Mouse returns to self-production, continuing the fruitful trajectory of mature songwriting set out on The Golden Casket (Epic, 2021) and paying tribute to the passing of longtime drummer Jeremiah Green. An Eraser And A Maze (Glacial Pace, 2026) ultimately distills the band's most brilliant compositional and arrangement ideas, now based in Portland, moving between more carefree, irreverent tracks ("Picking Dragon's Pockets"), overly groovy ballads ("Remember Yourself"), catchy rock riffs à la Good News For People Who Love Bad News ("Life's A Dream"), and irreverent cuts à la The Lonesome Crowded West ("Speak And Spell [Or Note]", "Rotten Fruit").
These formulas recur and intertwine throughout the album, enriched by skillful arrangement touches — like the choral backing on the ballad "Third Side of the Moon", the dual register of the folk/rock march "Dogbed In Heaven / Give It A Skeleton" and the whistling gang vocals on "Rotten Fruit" — alongside existential, at times fatalistic musings. The instrumental passage of "Interlude", leading into "I Can't Talk Right Now" — one of the album's most original and successful tracks in its blending of tones and genre tropes — is a delight, as are the new wave riffs and rhythmic figures of "Absolutely Necessary Never", which recall other stylistic paths within indie music, like "Reflektor" by Arcade Fire, "Song About Nothing" and "Look How Far", complete with the usual rough edges and grotesque touches that define Brock and co.'s music, enriched by Janet Weiss's drumming. In this vein, the album closes with "Impossible Someday", a wave-tinged indie song whose unison riff sounds like a tribute to the Cure of the 2000s. 

Contributions by Maria Teresa Soldani ("Strangers To Ourselves", "The Golden Casket", "An Eraser And A Maze")

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