"Good News" for Modest Mouse Fans

After blaring horns trumpet the arrival of this new album, it leads into a stark, spare arrangement that grows steadily throughout. “Thoughts were so loud I couldn’t hear my mouth.” Brock has utilized themes on past albums, but probably no more so than here as he links songs with not only the ideas of returning to the ocean (again, progressing from “3rd Planet” – oceans in our bodies), but with lyrics – “Float on” is repeated throughout “World at Large” which continues into the next song, “Float On”, as does the music itself bleed into the next song. After tackling themes of earth/US on the first two albums, and then heading into space and the universe with The Moon and Antarctica, Brock dives into the water with this one, completing a unifying trilogy concept with all four albums.

There is no long centerpiece like “Trucker’s Atlas” or “Stars are Projectors” here. Instead, they opted for “movements” in the form of songs. Instead, there are brief “Interludes” to connect pieces.

Brock finds fault in those people he admires – a jab at false idols or role models, perhaps, such as himself – again, something he has done in the past. Here he attacks Bukowski for being an asshole and God for being “such a control freak.”

Not everything is new here, as old themes are addressed. Death continues to weigh heavily on Brock’s mind with “Bury Me With It” and “Satin in a Coffin.”

There is some interesting little tidbits that pop up at various times. The “You missed” refrain in “Ocean Breeze,” e.g. – something cheesy about it, or is it retro? Surprisingly (or perhaps not), a couple of the more interesting pieces seem to be more Ugly Cassanova than Modest Mouse – “Bukowski” being one of them. Adding the extra strings and banjos and horns creates an air of originality to these songs. “Dance Hall” – seemingly a throw away – shows Brock at his most charming – screaming distorted angry vocals above simple chords followed by clean guitar lines, all disturbingly catchy like the Dance Hall music and purveyors that he seems to be mocking. (Why does he not play this more in concert? A natural for mosh pit destruction). There is a death march in “Satin in a Coffin” and at times, the band is starting to sound like Tom Waits, never a bad thing.

“Satin in a Coffin,” which plays out as a funeral dirge with crying baby (sounding like Pink Floyd), also carries a notion of rebirth.

“Blame It On the Tetons” might have been one of the more lovely pieces if not for Brock’s ill-fitting vocals. Perhaps it would work better as an instrumental. Beautiful strings and piano at the end but too little, too late? Not only weak vocals, but weak lyrics, too.

“Black Cadillacs” can be seen as a rousing condemnation of life in general. It contains some of the best lyrics on the album. “We name our children after towns we’ve never been to”; “We’re so pleased with ourselves with using so many verbs and nouns”; “Clouds hung around like black Cadillacs outside a funeral.” The lyrics provide a link to “Blame It On the Tetons”, again, seemingly flowing from one song to the next with lyrics, like water flowing. Even “One Chance” refers to ships sailing and sinking.

They seem to sum it all up with the ideas that “Good Times Are Killing Me.” Maybe an apology (not apology, but explanation – Brock doesn’t seem to apologize for anything he says or does) for the rumors that he’s cleaned up his act (although rumors of his sobriety are greatly exaggerated). The irony of “Good Times” is present in the intro when someone is heard to ask if it is “okay to smoke in here.”

All in all, a tremendous mix of dynamic music backed by mostly thought provoking lyrics, yet the band’s most accessible album to date.