By: Brian Herron
In certain circles, being into Modest Mouse is as essential as converse runners, ironic T-shirts with moons and wolves on them and being into, like, art n’stuff.
One of the biggest small bands in the world MM never quite hit the big time. Yet they’ve managed to pull off a tricky sort of mainstream/underground bigamy for years.
Some of Modest Mouse’s trailer-trash indie-chic has rubbed off with their forays into more accessible (but no less-anguished) territory with their last two albums. However, this increasing trend towards muscular agro-pop has garnered them many new fans, and they’ve been adopted as darlings of the alt.rock set.
Despite their semi-breakout hit, Float On, being trundled out at least twice nightly by drearily predictable Whelan’s DJs, Dubliners still haven’t tired of Modest Mouse. And this, overall, is a good thing.
Originally, one date was planned at the Academy but quickly sold out, prompting MCD to add an extra date — which also sold out.
The gig was a coherent, tight revisit of the MM back-catalogue, which features a selection of tracks that veer from the demonic to the sublime — often in the same song.
Although the most recent records, We were dead before the ship even sank and good news for people who love bad news were prominent, earlier releases featured heavily, particularly tracks from their 2000 release, The Moon and Antarctica. Simmering and faithful renditions of Wild pack of family dogs and Paper thin walls, sat well with newer offerings like Satin in a coffin and the anthemic, The view.
Disappointingly, for the first half of the gig singer Isaac Brock’s vocals were a little lost in the noise of the band. He admitted to the crowd that he was drinking tea on stage to soothe damaged vocal chords, and it showed.
Perhaps the extra date (I reviewed them on their second performance) was one to many, and took a toll on the energy of the band. But supported by polished percussions, Brock found his voice and grew into the performance.
Every time I’ve seen Modest Mouse there’s been an excruciatingly long break before the encore, and this time was no different. People around me were miffed, and a fair bit of grumbling was starting, before the band decided to wander back on stage.
I’ve seen them play before, and this performance was slightly flat, particularly to begin with. But any gripes are relatively minor — they’re still one of the most exciting and original bands around.
Their omission from the recently published Observer Music Monthly’s 100 greatest albums of the decade was a (minor) snub. Especially since their support act on the night, mildly-interesting Scottish rocksters, Frightened Rabbit, actually came in at 89th.
