We were shootin' at a mound of dir, well nothing was broken, nothing was hurt. (Day 137)

In keeping with the theme of this blog, which is about the mental condition, and coinciding with me talking about albums that I think you should listen too (and could change your life) the album I'll be talking about today symbolizes ten fold, what I feel is nothing short of a full mental collapse.




On April 6th, 2004 Modest Mouse released their eponymous album, Good News For People Who Love Bad News. With their lead off hit single, Float On, I think Modest Mouse immediately exceeded any and all expectations, as well as proved that they could be that band; A band that could contend with anyone else on the major stage, and that the world was literally theirs for the taking.

With the follow up single, Ocean Breathes Salty, any lingering doubts that they were a one trick pony only capable of a modest (sorry) hit. It truly proved that they had potential to expand their fan base, as well as their capabilities that weren't previously something they could realistically afford before.

But every song off of this album is a like taping yourself to a giant yo-yo. Each song itself bounces back and forth between moments of near chaotic calamity, to a falsely lulling moment of reprieve. Not many vocalists have the capabilities that front man Issac Brock has; He truly uses his voice as yet another weapon of instrumentation in Modest Mouses now signature wall of sound approach.

There are so many nuances buried within this album that it practically begs to be listened too on repeat hundreds of times. And even after that much time spent with the album, there's really a good chance that you'll never even scratch the surface of what's hidden within this album. Modest Mouse have mastered the theory of making intricacy seem so effortless that you almost don't notice that there's nearly an orchestra's worth of musicianship woven into the thread of each song.

From one moment your lulled into a calm and almost serene feelings, and the next...just as you get comfortable with where you're at a foot of sonic abrasion kicks you in teeth.

I feel it in my back, almost, if that makes any sense. In the back of my shoulder blades. The emotion dripping from Brock's throat. It truly feels to me like every moment of this album is a testimony to mania and bi-polar disorder in it's fullest. Unabashedly and without remorse, Modest Mouse dance so close to the brink of full on insanity that they actually dangle their feet over the edge and into the water, and then pull back just before the toes begin to prune.

Good News... is nothing short of a masterpiece, employing banjos, ukulele's, organs and a plethora of other instruments not necessarily thought of when creating a rock album. But they do so without ever coming off as pretentious. You almost get the feeling that while each, and every one of the members of Modest Mouse are nearly certifiably insane, they did their best to prove perfection to themselves in the most humble of manners. Instead of trying to right basic pop songs (which, don't get me wrong, Modest Mouse do in fact write brilliant pop songs, I don't think they ever couldn't. They spent too much time with the Smiths and Neutral Milk Hotel albums to not be able to craft pop song) they stretch the limits of not only creativity, but ingenuity and imagination. They never try to cram a hit down your throat, but rather toss the shiny lure into the murky water that is the landscape of modern day music, and attract you with the glisten of something different. It's something you can't quite put your finger on, but before you know it even you're beginning to think you yourself were laying on the carpet like you were satin in a coffin.

I think what gets me the most, especially about Modest Mouse, is that above their musicianship which is...nearly unparalleled, is their ability to actually write lyrics. With nods to Charles Bukowki (see the song...Bukowski) Brock really does show that he's no slouch himself when it comes to dancing around a pen. At times it almost comes across like the near-ramblings of a mad-man (see the end of Bury Me With It for a good example). Coupled with his emotive vocals that seem to fit every single syllable as perfectly as a glove, they stand head and shoulders over most bands, and prominently punctuate themselves as a bad on substance in a time when bands like Fall Out Boy seem to nearly exist to get girls panties wet.

This is an album I listened too religiously, and still continue to do so. But when I lived in Albany, New York every moment felt like I was about have a complete shut down of all my mental facalties. But to hear someone else just be as open and free, and using what obviously (at least to me) comes across as a constant manic episode, it calmed me down and made me more comfortable with myself.

I truly hope if you haven't picked up this album that you do yourself a favor and check it out.

God bless Modest Mouse. I agree...I'm done with all the fuck-fuck-fucking around, too.

Tracklisting:

1	Horn Intro
2	The World At Large
3	Float On
4	Ocean Breathes Salty
5	Dig Your Grave
6	Bury Me With It
7	Dance Hall
8	Bukowski
9	This Devil's Workday
10	The View
11	Satin In A Coffin
12	Interlude (Milo)
13	Blame It On The Tetons
14	Black Cadillacs
15	One Chance
16	The Good Times Are Killing Me

-Until tomorrow.