Going into the Congress Theatre to see Modest Mouse, I was neither a novice to the band’s music, nor an ardent follower. I knew “Float On” from back in its radio friendly days, and I had a copy of their latest “We Were Dead Before The Ship Even Sank,” but it still felt like going on a blind date with someone you only once saw a blurry picture of.
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Modest Mouse
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 Entertainment
Art
Congress Theater,
Chicago, Ill.
December 2, 2007
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Unlike other acts of dare I say, similar indie excursion I have obsessed over the years, the Washington rockers never really found their way onto my regular playlists. I did not understand their style, somewhat lost between the post-punk appetite of their early albums and the more polished but never completely accomplished ambitions of their 21st century offerings. Perhaps their sound was too raw for me; perhaps it was vocalist Isaac Brock’s unstructured vocals. Perhaps I should have seen the band live sooner.
The opening act, Man Man set the bar high for art and energy that night, with their usual ADD inspired shtick complete with all white costumes. By the time Modest Mouse came on stage I was frankly already a bit tired, not to mention intoxicated. But as soon as “Bury Me With It” hit the walls of the theatre I grabbed another drink and held tightly to the end of the balcony with my eyes zooming in on the stage.
Brock’s live charisma and especially vocal range comes through with all kinds of unexpected punches on stage; an explosive combination of inner angst, unsettling spirit and energy drink high. With slightly pudgy physique and crew cut I never expected the 32-year-old frontman to tear through certain numbers with such explosive intensity. His voice on record often feels like a car steering out of control by a drunk driver on a highway. On stage nevertheless, his somewhat signature off-key shrieks and flailing high notes get beautifully grounded with incredible passion and honesty right in front of you.
Slowly throughout the evening whatever misconceptions I had about the band before, started to make way for curious appreciation. I reeled my way downstairs wanting to be a part of the main floor craze. I did not attempt to crowd surf like one fan did, but I did completely give in to the set list, a lot of which was largely unfamiliar to me. The band often went on into long jamming codas as extensions of their songs, to the fans’ frantic appreciation. During “Tiny Cities Made of Ashes” Brock took his guitar off and kept running all around the stage pointing and screaming at the audience, throwing his mic around. The vocalist completely drew us in with his uninhibited persona, and it was equally fascinating to watch him lose himself in the performance.
The band kept the energy pulpit high with popular numbers like “Education,” “Doin’ the cockroach,” and a reinterpreted version of the country flavored head-bopper “Here It Comes.” Toward the end, the beautiful “Bukowski,” and mesmerizing “Float On” provided a balancing dose of calmer rhythms. During the encore the band brought out two big guns from their 1996 debut album, upon declaring “We all just forgot something on stage.” The lyrically iconic “Taking Shit About a Pretty Sunset” melted in a live medley with “Breakthrough” proved to be a real highlight for hardcore fans and an eye-opening treat to newcomers.
Getting back onto the freezing Chicago streets afterwards was painful. I tried to recall specific details from the past two hours to report on, but all I could remember was the overall overwhelming feeling of unhinged energy and emotions. I didn’t get to hear “Little Motel,” my favorite track from the last album, but I left completely impressed nevertheless, and perhaps with a greater understanding of what makes Modest Mouse one of the most respected indie bands out there.
Some artists approach live concerts from a pure showmanship standpoint, some do it just for the money, and some never put enough effort to live up to your expectations. Modest Mouse puts on one hell of a show that explodes with incredible natural charisma of its performers, and music crawling under your skin like only a live rendition could. It’s truly what an alternative rock concert should be: at times clumsy and seemingly improvised, but overall unpretentious, uncompromised, and real.
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