some people like to read reviews, some people don't... I do.
Mr. Showbiz - "85/100"
Modest Mouse, the Washington-based trio that has gathered a sizable
following since its 1997 debut, This Is a Long Drive for Someone With
Nothing to Think About, charts familiar territory on its major-label debut
third album, The Moon & Antarctica. But the group's niche - stormy,
wandering rock that vacillates from whispery acoustics to raging emocore -
fits like a glove, allowing lead singer Isaac Brock to project his various
insecurities and philosophies.
"Everything that's keeping me together is falling apart," Isaac Brock sings
on the first track, "3rd Planet." Although his delivery, lisp and all, makes
it occasionally difficult to decipher some of his words, the songs still
manage to paint a vivid picture of Modest Mouse's emotional landscape. On
its 15 tracks, plaintive, nakedly honest lyrics collide with keen
observation; meanwhile, the music, particularly drummer Jeremiah Green's
frequent time changes, is broad, yet focused enough to maintain one's
interest.
The album is a return of sorts to the dynamics of Long Drive. Gone are the
violins and esoteric instruments that marked the band's second album, The
Lonesome Crowded West, though Brock occasionally sings through a megaphone.
The group's songwriting, however, is as evocative as ever, able to
communicate startling beauty (as on "Gravity Rides Everything") as well as
congestion and stress ("Tiny Cities Made of Ash"). Modest Mouse isn't the
only group capable of such transitions, but what makes it special is the
band's consistency; you'd be hard-pressed to find a bad track on The Moon &
Antarctica. It's an hour of enrapturing atmosphere, as if the Mouse had
scored a soundtrack to an engaging road trip rather than crafting a gem. -
Mosi Reeves
E! Online - "A-"
No, that's not your CD player stuck on repeat. Any Modest Mouseketeer worth
his or her salt knows this band's songs usually sound the same. And that's
not a bad thing, seeing as how these Northwesterners have nibbled out a very
distinctive alt-country, noise-folk niche with their dozen or so indie
releases. Squared off by frontman-guitarist Isaac Brock and his drunkard
ramblings about traveling, big-sky imagery and what a jerk he is, this
major-label debut finds the Mouse in a softer, gentler mode than usual.
Instead of just banging and swatting at his guitar, Brock shoots for the
moon and actually plays the darn thing--and plays it well. This record might
reach beyond the band's core of cool indie rockers and stodgy music critics.
Amazon.com -
With their interstellar (really!) lyrics and angular song structures, Modest
Mouse tend to defy their self-deprecating band name. In truth, the trio's
got some lofty ambitions, and The Moon and Antarctica indulges their grand
dreams with pristine production and a vivid sonic backdrop. It also dives
deeply into their geographical obsessions--always with the same subjective
twists that made The Lonesome Crowded West and This Is a Long Drive for
Someone with Nothing to Think About such inspired wonders. Isaac Brock opens
Moon with meditations on the universe's shape--all twisted into such a
solipsistic tangle that they illuminate immediately how much these songs are
about the mind as about the world. Rarely giving off the cage-jarring
thickness of guitar rock, Moon's 15 tunes are shaped around vignettes of a
disheveled head figuring out the rambling disconnections of postmodern
society. Guitars wobble, Brock wails on vocals, and his band mates--Eric
Judy and Jeremiah Green--help take each song away from any predictable
formula and toward wherever they seem to want to go. This is a band as
profoundly touched by suburbia as was writer Harold Brodkey. You can imagine
Brock, Green, and Judy lying on wide-open lawns, philosophizing about the
shape of the universe and coming up with lyric moments like this (sung to
folky, spare acoustic guitar): "A wild pack of family dogs came running
through the yard and as my own dog ran away I didn't say much of anything at
all / A wild pack of family dogs came running through the yard as my little
sister played; the dogs took her away, and I guess she was eaten up, okay."
Replays of American Beauty, anyone? --Andrew Bartlett
