The Wake

One word: rapturous. That’s the word I assign Modest Mouse’s performance at First Avenue on February 28. Rapturous because my innards shook, because my brain resonated with joy and because most everyone had smiles stretched across their faces or danced feverishly. Modest Mouse’s guttural sound easily gets under the skin, and the result is memorable music and also a show worth recalling.

But let’s start at the beginning, before Modest Mouse appeared. I arrived late and only caught the last three songs by the opening band Mount Egypt. Admittedly I felt bad, but it was OK because their slow burning rock can be easily summed up. Mount Egypt was spacey, mellow, and frankly bland. They created background music to life’s soundtrack. Inversely the next band, Minneapolis’ own Mason Jennings, engaged the room and captured all ears.

Jennings opened his set with a cover of a 1930s folk song “Down to the River to Pray,” demonstrating his prowess within the genre. He owned the simple and methodical vocals, as he does with his own songs. There is no ignoring Jennings’ lyrical abilities. With words such as “there was a bird trapped in my heart/I tried to open up and let it out” Jennings works folk magic. Part of that magic exists between the audience and the musician. Jennings exuded an intense intimacy with his onlookers. He knew who he was gazing at and reached us through eye contact, body language, and of course his personal songs. It didn’t hurt that Jennings was conversational and friendly (that darn Minnesota nice). He regaled the audience with a tale about a scorpion being tossed onstage in Texas. Random, yes, but I was interested in what he and his music had to say.

Passion played a key role in Jennings’s performance. I have never seen anyone rock out that much on an acoustic guitar. Jennings and his accompanists strutted and yelped, jumped and screamed. Hell, he seemed glad to be back home and praised the crowd, who gave him a sweltering welcome. His town loved him and his rock bliss.

Then the wait began. I couldn’t say how long the audience milled about or pushed toward the stage for a spot, but it seemed like a long time before Modest Mouse got their shit together. But it made sense after the band emerged. Besides the regular band paraphernalia littering the stage there were maracas, an electric string bass, tambourines, and multiple keyboards. There was also an extra percussionist. Evidently it takes quite a lot of rigmarole to produce the alterna-indie rock we expect from Modest Mouse. These expectations have only grown as MTV and the mainstream music scene have plucked up the band. Their recent success seems ironic as the band has been pouring out highly original tunes since 1993. I guess the world is finally ready for good music willing to test boundaries. Thus, I appreciated the effort when Modest Mouse began playing

True to form lead singer Isaac Brock shouted and jerked to the complex harmonies and rhythms. He seemed on the verge of Tourette’s as energy surged through his vocals and guitar hooks. His eyes bugged out, especially after some guy threw ice cubes onstage. This really set Brock off and he began swearing and threatening whoever had done it. Brock soon let it go and went back to his crazed rocking. All the while the crowd bounced, bobbed, and raised their beer bottles in excitement.

Through the set Modest Mouse varied the tempo and emotional levels efficiently. After passion, anger, and adrenaline surged through the crowd nearly bring the room into chaos the group would settle into a relaxed number. The array of songs and the skill needed to produce said songs dazzled me. The humdrum of mediocre indie rock was vanquished from that room, that night. Modest Mouse pulled out the stops with their versatility in a sound founded by Pavement and Built to Spill.

Surprisingly Modest Mouse tended to jam and tinker within their songs. Their willingness to experiment made the concert unique. A whooping version of “Tiny Cities Made of Ashes” resulted in a great dance number. “Float On” also took on an altered sound, as if in a different key. These variations were not disturbing, but refreshing. After all a person doesn’t want to pay 20 plus bucks to hear exactly what’s on a CD. We want flavor and the band delivered.

Modest Mouse maintains a creativity that is fathomless, bearing deep into our souls. The last song of their set illustrated this point. Twelve people, contributing to the music at various points during the night, came onstage to perform a free-flowing rendition of “The Good Times are Killing Me.” The song swelled and ambled along our eardrums and seeing all those hands and voices work together was heartening. Modest Mouse’s rapture cemented at that moment and the good times were killing me as I danced away.

Modest Mouse appeared at First Avenue on the 28th of November in support of Good People who Love Bad News.