By James Murphy
As the stage lights dimmer to foreshadow the start of indie rock giants Modest Mouse’s set, garbled radio transmissions piped from the speakers before transitioning to the sounds of the barn yard: barking, bleating and chicken clucks. When the crowd tired of the musings of the lonely audio chicken, they stomped their feet, drawing the mice out for a roaring set.
Early in Modest Mouse’s set, Isaac Brock, shared his day with the crowd: because he likes to be “boring”, he joked, he had his phone stolen when he took his eyes off it for an instant. Luckily, bass player Tom had a find my phone app installed. En masse, they descended upon the apartment, confronted the perpetrators; he got his phone back. While he’s gently spoken conversationally, if you’ve seen Brock behind a microphone, you know you don’t want him knocking on your door looking for his phone: there’s a rage that he channels on command.
Emerging from the DIY punk scene of the early 90s to become multi-Grammy Award nominated mainstream indie pop stars, Modest Mouse are an unlikely fusion: Brock’s idiosyncratic, chaotic, snarling vocals blended with his polished guitar work and ear for a melody; at times he is speaking in tongues, or raging from the pulpit. In an early flurry, the band rattled off some of their biggest hits, like ‘Dashboard’, ‘Ocean Breathes Salty’ and ‘Dark Center of the Universe’, before the lights went psychedelic for opening track from latest release, The Golden Casket, ‘Fuck Your Acid Trip’.
For the Monday night set, there were selections from mainstream smashes Good News For People Who Love Bad News and We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank, cuts from cult classics The Lonesome Crowded West and The Moon & Antartica, as well as the earnest ode to fatherhood, ‘Lace Your Shoes’. Brock reflected on the circle of life while introducing the last track: he’s lost friends and bandmates but gained children and new friends. Doing the math, he’s gained more than he’s lost.
After an inordinately long encore intermission, the sprawling ten-minute ‘Truckers Atlas’ kicked off a three-song encore, culminating in ‘Shit Luck’; a commentary maybe on the day he had. For long term fans of the band, though, it was an evening of good fortune.
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