The band continues to raise the indie-rock standard with its latest release, The Moon and Antarctica.
Scene Music Critic
Any first time listener of The Moon and Antarctica, the latest album from indie-rockers Modest Mouse, will be blown away. For an entire hour, he or she will be transported to the timeless worlds suggested by the otherworldly photography inside the album booklet.
The songs, while all unique, blend together in a new world of endless gray sun swept skies and will make just about anyone an attentive disciple of the somber wisdom of lead singer Isaac Brock. Some may even come to the conclusion that they have found the new soundtrack to their life. But repeat listenings fail to recapture the depth of the initial journey. With the exception of the more catchy and gentle acoustic melodies, the music begins to sound flat and toneless, and instead of plunging its listeners into deep metaphysical wanderings, they instead find themselves listening to drab dirges and plaintive yells from a far lonelier place than they may wish to be. However, with the seemingly endless overkill of sugary happy pop the music industry has pounded the public with of late, many may find themselves again seeking the depth and mystery present in The Moon and Antarctica.
Modest Mouse hails from the breeding ground of many alienated and lonely musicians, the Pacific Northwest. More specifically, they come from rural Issaquah, WA, where the band formed in 1993 composing of vocalist Isaac Brock, bassist Eric Judy and drummer Jeremiah Green. It was not until 1996 that the band produced its first full album, the 70-plus minute This is a Long Drive for Someone with Nothing to Think About. In 1997 they released an EP, The Fruit that Ate Itself, and in 1998 their album The Lonesome Crowded West drew the attention of major record labels. The group ended up signing with Sony, and The Moon and Antarctica is their major record label debut from Epic Records.
With The Moon and Antarctica, Modest Mouse raises the bar dangerously high. The sheer scope of the albumÕs themes and layered sound reflect a group that has already reached maturity fairly quickly for a band whose oldest member is 26. Guided by singer Isaac BrockÕs twangy voice, the album searches the more desolate reaches of human existence for insight into deep human questions.
The albumÕs first song, Ò3rd PlanetÓ begins with the lament, ÒEverything that keeps me together is falling apart,Ó and then dives into a crashing, swirling image of creation that suggests a deep connection between human beings and the earth. The song fades in and out of the newly forming world, just as the simple acoustic guitar line becomes overwhelmed by a more urgent barrage of chords.
The second song of the album, the soothing acoustic ballad ÒGravity Rides EverythingÓ seems rather out of place, however. The song envisions a time when gravity wins out, and the pressing demands and pains of our daily lives ÒAll will fall/ fall right into place.Ó This song would be a perfect way to end the album, a soothing reminder after a painful journey through loneliness and questioning that things will always work out in the end. In the grander vision of Isaac Brock, the songÕs placement must make more sense. ÒDark Center of the Universe,Ó the third song of the album, takes a harsher tone than the first two songs, as the squealing guitars that defined many of Modest MouseÕs earlier songs makes its return. This song could easily become the anthem of any well intentioned guy told to get lost.
After the subdued ÒPerfect Disguise,Ó the album picks up momentum once again, as it begins its descent into the deeper and lonelier parts of the CD with the song ÒTiny Cities Made of Ashes.Ó Set to a pulsating bass line, and highlighted by a creepy dual voice effect, the song details a demented road trip as Brock screams, ÒDoes anybody know a way a body could get away/does anybody know a way?Ó After the Nirvana-like ÒA Different City,Ó the next two songs on the album deal with various degrees of isolation, building up to the massive ÒThe Stars are Projectors.Ó At over eight minutes, the song is the longest and most transcendental track of the album. Full of shifting dynamics, the song builds in urgency and sound layers until eventually reducing to a soft finger-picked guitar.
The rest of the songs on the album slowly return the listener to more familiar places of sounds and images, especially the bright, happily neurotic ÒPaper Thin Walls.Ó
The vast journey through isolation and spiritual searching appears to reach some sort of resolution (albeit a less than optimistic one) as the album draws to a close. However in the final song of the album, ÒWhat People are Made Of,Ó the band returns to the blasting noise and primal screams of its earlier work, revealing that the wisdom gained in this desolate journey still provides little comfort in a world of isolation and spiritual uncertainty.
While most other bands easily resolve such pain and confusion within the course of an album, or otherwise never delve far enough into the roots of their anger to reach such a deep psychological plane, Isaac Brock takes his listeners on a beautiful journey that struggles to grasp some of the most basic questions of human existence. Where did we come from? Why were we created? Where can we search for meaning in our lives?
Though never settling upon a final answer, the journey is a meaningful one. And with the beautifully layered sounds and haunting vocals to surround me, it is one anyone will find more and more worth repeating.
All Scene Stories for Tuesday, September 5, 2000
