THE GOLDEN CASKET

Spike Sidor

5 years ago

MODEST MOUSE

2021 INDIE-ROCK/PSYCH-POP

The Golden Casket is the seventh album from indie rock icons Modest Mouse. Everyone enjoys Modest Mouse, or rather, some iteration of the band. From the adoration of The Lonesome Crowded West from the supposedly enlightened critic, to the melodic mainstream hits of Good News for People Who Love Bad News, and, to be frank, I’ve yet to meet a human being with two decent ears that isn’t into The Moon & Antarctica. My folk loving Dad likes Modest Mouse. Your neighbor, who the word pitchfork evokes thoughts of farmers and thinks bandcamp is a Jack Black movie, likes Modest Mouse. As with so many aging rock acts, the last record I adored is now over two decades past. Sure, I don’t despise Good News, or We Were Dead, there’s glimmers of brilliance scattered through both, but as a front to back experience, decidedly lukewarm. Their last effort, 2015s Strangers to Ourselves, is the project all self-respecting artists should be petrified of dropping. A passionless pile of tracks that languidly reaches for pieces of the past with a sprinkling of the band’s current emotions and misguided modern sonic sensibilities.

Finally six years later we are confronted with the appropriately titled Golden Casket. Loads of effects and electronic instrumentation are a new feature, a generous fistful of psych popiness, and the results are plain garish. The issue is at their base Modest Mouse is still Modest Mouse, Isaac Brock isn’t suddenly Avey Tare, this band has an acute sadness and a colorful chorus or two is not going to change that, it’s going to clash. And it does readily and often, it’s the musical equivalent of the clinically depressed doing a pop dance routine. You can see the genuine effort and that just makes it more horrific. The album opens with Fuck Your Acid Trip, wonky waves of synths and sharp finger snaps guide a dark delivery from Brock that I really enjoy, then bright guitars lead into a nauseating chorus with the vocals soaring high to say nothing,

Figure it out
Just figure it out
But I have to go now
But I have to go right now

We Are Between is the lead single in case the overblown production wasn’t a dead giveaway. Certainly serviceable but forgettable, not a lick of catchiness and more trite lyrics that couldn’t have taken more than a lunch break to write. The next track, We’re Lucky, is clearly a section of We Are Between that got split out for whatever reason. I appreciate the slower pace but the mix ends up way too busy, especially the wild horns that almost drown out the vocals. Walking And Running makes me run as far away from anything that could possibly emit this song. Brock’s delivery is the worst; he elongates, accentuates and warbles over a basic pop track with a random medley of sounds thrown, presumably for fun, resulting in none. Shockingly, Wooden Soldiers sounds like vintage Modest Mouse but combined with a mind-bending kids cartoon, its pure oil and water. The lyrics are a big step up despite this,

I gave the boat a person’s name, so when it sinks I’ll know who to blame
The tiger isn’t tame but it’s toothless just the same

You can see the glimpse of good ideas here and on many tracks throughout, however the running theme is that for each above average idea there is a noxious abomination of an idea primed to squash it. Fittingly the next song, Transmitting Receiving, has no decent ideas. Imagine floating around in a movie set of outer space and Isaac Brock is word associating in a dull whisper in your helmet while his mic throws off pops of static that scratch at your eardrums. The band overdoses on artificial sunshine on, The Sun Hasn’t Left. An anthemic party track that offends at every turn. From the very first transgression in the form of a laughable line of mallet percussion, to the excruciating chorus. Modest Mouse is straight up belting “I don’t know you You don’t know me” to some beach bro lime-a-rita infused bullshit, plain faced disappointment should be the minimum level of outrage.

Thankfully Lace Your Shoes is a beautiful reprieve. The instrumental reigns itself in with pensive percussion and synths that create a lot of great atmosphere. Brock gets directly personal with touching lyrics, feeling of inner bliss from the thoughts of his kids growing up. It’s cute as hell. Never Fuck A Spider On The Fly has a title that is more memorable than the track, most of it slathered in effects that result in a muffling akin to listening with a pillow pressed against your ears. The lyrics are an awkward rant about how the hater will be their comeuppance, it’s off putting but not repulsive. Too many of the choices on The Golden Casket boggle the mind, as yet another “epic” swelling chorus wails out on Leave A Light On; it’s like the band listened to some top forty pop from five years ago and genuinely thought the hooks would be perfect for them.

Japanese Trees throws down frenetic verses with electric guitar and Brock running the gamut with typical middle aged complaints. The critical dilettantes, getting away from phones, not believing the news; it’s very old hat. The closer arrives in spectacularly awkward fashion as it doesn’t even sound like it belongs on this album stylistically, it’s obviously either a cut track from their previous album or was recorded several years ago, why they thought it would be appropriate here is a mystery. Simply put, it’s a mediocre indie rock track about getting away from extremes. Whether it has to do with politics or the excesses of Brock’s life, who knows, at this point you want the album to be over. The Golden Casket is the opposite of a grower, on a light listen it’s ear grabbing, on repeat plays its idiosyncrasies become clear flaws, each listen revealing new headaches. At the least Modest Mouse are trying on The Golden Casket, I just wish they tried something else.

2-3/10

THE GOLDEN CASKET

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