Modest Mouse - We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank

Oftentimes I think the music world at large is getting into a rut. Thankfully, at this most recent time, along came Modest Mouse to show me that not everything is just the same old boring filler. They renewed my knowledge that music can be daring, original, and boundary-pushing.

A little-known band since 1996, Modest Mouse finally broke out big-time with their 2004 smash Good News for People Who Love Bad News. After that, critics everywhere were anticipating their next effort on the edge of their seats. But part of what made them get so excited by Good News was that it was quirky, off-beat, and deliciously indie. Modest Mouse was commendably ignoring the fact that they had been on a major label since 2000. Actually, I’m surprised that a major label stuck with them for as long as they did. Having your first album with them be a flop, and then taking three years to make another one, is usually a recipe for getting you unceremoniously dumped. I guess it was luck that they weren’t.

The record label’s patience (as well as that of the audience) paid off, however, since they matured into one of the tightest bands of the new century. They caught the attention of the Smiths’ Johnny Marr, who became a full-fledged member of the band for 2007’s We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank. Here the band straddles the line between mass-market sensation and quirky indie act. And amazingly, they do an astounding job. Record companies seem to have caught on that when they acquire an indie act like Modest Mouse (or the Decemberists), they shouldn’t clutch at them with dollar signs in their eyes. If they just leave well enough alone and let the bands keep their originality and artistry intact, the dollars will just come. After all, The Crane Wife was one of the most successful albums of the year. I imagine Epic is hoping We Were Dead will follow in its money-making footsteps.

Indeed, Modest Mouse’s off-kilter-ness is intact from the very first note, which is produced by an accordion, of all things (no longer uncool, thanks to Arcade Fire). The biggest stumbling block for me is Isaac Brock’s voice. It turned me off initially when I first heard Modest Mouse back in 2005. For certain songs, he seems to be going for an insane Cookie Monster growl, and it’s pretty distracting. I just had to give it time, though. “March Into the Sea” has Brock’s weirdness cranked to 11, and it’s actually a very off-putting way to kick off the album. But that just seems to be the Modest Mouse way. It took a few listens for this song to actually grow on me, as it did for the entire album. “Dashboard” follows as the catchiest and bounciest song Modest Mouse has ever done. This song had me nodding my head and singing along very quickly, the mark of a pop gem. “Parting of the Sensory” has a great apocalyptic and troublesome vibe to it, such that you really get into it. Brock’s lyrics remain inscrutable, being more like free-verse poetry in places. Johnny Marr shows his influence on “Missed the Boat,” which is nicely polished and melodic. In the face of the daring (and messy) originality of the rest of the album, some would say this track doesn’t fit in, but it’s actually one of the most accessible songs here, while still retaining the aforementioned originality.

“Fly Trapped In a Jar” falls off the tightrope into a sea of confusion, “Education” is a bit boring, and “Steam Engenious” doesn’t have a compelling melody. Other than that, though, the whole album successfully walks a fine line between originality and accessibility. It’s just catchy enough to draw you in, but just strange enough to make you stick with it. I think we can expect more acts like Modest Mouse finding mass appeal, since people seem to be expecting more and more from their music.

Prime Cuts:
Dashboard
Invisible
Missed the Boat
Parting of the Sensory

22 Rating: 12

The Fray - How to Save a Life

I’m sure the members of The Fray are very nice people. They probably love their mothers, love their wives, don’t run stop signs, don’t cheat on their taxes, and never leave the toilet seat up. But there’s one area where they’ve committed a very heinous sin: they make music that’s ordinary. Music is an art form, and it should always stir in us some emotion, be it positive or negative. With How to Save a Life, the debut album from The Fray, it may as well not be there at all.

The Fray are basically exactly like Counting Crows (without the passion), or Matchbox Twenty (without the pop sensibilities), or Coldplay (without the British-ness). They don’t distinguish themselves from the huddled masses of piano-and-guitar soft rock bands at all. Actually, that’s not true. What makes The Fray different from the previously mentioned bands is that The Fray play with absolutely zero conviction. In all fairness, How to Save a Life makes no huge mistakes, but that’s because it takes no risks. Every song plays exactly the same, even having a similar structure and runtime. Nine of the twelve tracks are within 40 seconds of each other in time, all in the four minute range. The album gives new meaning to the word “safe.”

Things start off well enough with “She Is,” but that’s just because it’s the very beginning, and we don’t have a “rest of the album” to make it sound like it’s the same as everything that came before. The lyrics apply 6^th-grade workmanship in “she is everything I need that I never knew I wanted / she is everything I want that I never knew I needed.” “Over My Head (Cable Car)” is the first big single, and with good reason, because the lyrics are the sharpest and most telling of the whole album. However, the song suffers from a lack of catchiness and Isaac Slade’s terrible voice. “How to Save a Life,” the second single, has all the bad points of “Cable Car” and none of the good. And from there, it’s just all the same, as if it were performed by robots.

“All at Once” is of a slightly higher level that the rest, almost on par with Counting Crows. “Little House” is the closest thing to true rock and roll, but that’s sadly far from the mark. And the rest of the album is just boring, standard, uninspired, achingly ordinary, and ultimately forgettable. Well, it would be forgettable if radio stations weren’t playing so much of “Cable Car.” The song’s even been adopted by a few television gurus. I could see Dawson’s Creek making The Fray very big, if that show was still on. Hopefully, though, one of two things will happen. Either The Fray will grow some originality, or they’ll soon fade away into the night. Whatever road they take, I have a hard time caring.

Prime Cuts:
All At Once

22 Rating: -1

Fall Out Boy - Infinity On High

I can kinda-sorta sympathize with Fall Out Boy. After all, they were rather suddenly thrust into the spotlight. But honestly, if they didn’t want that to happen, or even didn’t think it ever would happen, what were they doing this whole rock and roll thing for anyway?

To their credit, Fall Out Boy is incredibly self-aware, and constantly keep themselves in check. No one laughs at themselves more than Fall Out Boy. They lampoon themselves at every opportunity, not the least of which is the video for “This Ain’t a Scene, It’s an Arms Race.” The whole thing is a ribbing of all things FOB, some things that only avid fans or people who pay very close attention would know about. But at the same time, they seem to be giving themselves things to make fun of. That is illustrated no more than on their new album, Infinity On High.

It starts of with rapper Jay-Z (yes, Jay-Z) doing a shout-out, just like a rap album. This set off dozens of alarm bells in my head. The track that follows it, “Thriller,” is a very poppy slice of punk rock, so much so that it almost made me sick. Like a lot of tracks on Infinity On High, I like it, but I don’t like that I like it, if that makes any sense. It’s polished to a high mirror shine, even as the lyrics of the album seem to be rejecting that.

Next comes “The Take Over, the Break’s Over,” which perpetuates the “shiny garbage” modicum. However, they come right back with their new “Sugar, We’re Going Down” with “This Ain’t a Scene, It’s an Arms Race.” This song illustrates everything I love about FOB; strong, catchy and punchy. Pete Wentz lyrics are so clever that he might break his arm he’s patting himself on the back so hard. He’s got to be pretty proud of his song titles, too. They dangerously dance back and forth on the line of ingenious and incredibly annoying. “You’re Crashing But You’re No Wave.” “I’m Like a Lawyer With the Way I’m Always Trying to Get You Off.” “I’ve Got All This Ringing In My Ears and None On My Fingers.” Riiiiiiiiiiiiight. This is only trumped by the lead-off track of their previous album, “Our Lawyers Made Us Change the Name of This Song So We Wouldn’t Get Sued.” Song titles like that make me smile and shake my head, make me laugh and cry at the same exact time.

Songs that they experiment on (where they play against type) generally don’t work. Their forays into the pop and hip-hop worlds are ill-conceived, but interesting nonetheless. It’s when they stick to their modern rock roots that they really shine. “Hum Hallelujah” is a pretty good punk song, though the rip-off of Rufus Wainright’s “Hallelujah” is a little over the top. In the context of the entire album, tracks like “The Carpel Tunnel of Love” and “I’ve Got All This Ringing…” seem like filler and hold-overs from the last album, but they’re some of the best on here.

Infinity On High is even more smarmy and self-aware than From Under the Cork Tree, and if you like Fall Out Boy at all, I think you’ll like this, or at least appreciate it. But I find that people generally fall into one of two groups when it comes to FOB: love ‘em or hate ‘em. So if you’re in the second group, stay far away from this album, because it will only piss you off. But if you’re under 17 and in the “no one understands me” phase, then by golly this is the album for you.

Prime Cuts:
This Ain’t a Scene, It’s an Arms Race
You’re Crashing But You’re No Wave
Hum Hallelujah
I’ve Got All This Ringing In My Ears and None On My Fingers

22 Rating: 6