With little flair, Modest Mouse celebrated the 25th anniversary of their sophomore album, 1997's The Lonesome Crowded West, at Vancouver's Commodore Ballroom on Monday night. Even though the show (the second of back-to-back appearances at the Commodore) was void of sentimentalism, the band played well and pleased their die hard fans — both the day-ones and those younger than The Lonesome Crowded West itself.
It's easy to look at Modest Mouse as generic indie in hindsight, but that viewpoint dismisses the band at its most creatively freewheeling and intriguingly unbridled. The Lonesome Crowded West capped off Modest Mouse's head-turning '90s period before the band began finessing their weirder impulses into more conceptual albums, like 2000's The Moon & Antarctica and their 2004 mainstream breakthrough Good News for People Who Like Bad News.
As far as anniversary tours go, though, the show followed a typical trajectory: Modest Mouse shot straight through The Lonesome Crowded West's 15 songs and closed with an encore the fans actually had to wait several minutes for — well-earned by today's standards. There were no sweet reminiscences from the band and no chit chat besides a quick 'thank you' midway through the set; Modest Mouse let the songs fulfill all the nostalgia the fans craved.
The corrupted, devolving funk jam of "Lounge (Closing Time)" and the swampy jug throwdown "Jesus Christ Was an Only Child" contrasted acoustic strummer highlights like "Bankrupt on Selling" and "Styrofoam Boots/It's All on Ice, Alright." The former got fans whooping, hollering, and clapping along when the drums hit a third of the way through and collapsed the acoustic breakwall, leading to a flood of caterwauling jams.
The band barrelled through the jagged, plinking "Teeth Like God's Shoeshine" and chugged along on "Convenient Parking," a bumpy ride with rolling drums that flapped like blown tires. They spun out on The Lonesome Crowded West's most explosive song, the dizzying "Shit Luck," while "Doin' the Cockroach" sent fans into a frenzy, kicking their legs like insects on their backs.
The Lonesome Crowded West is not only a dividing line between eras in Modest Mouse's songwriting, but a dividing line between the band's fans as well. However, it was all about unity at the Commodore. And despite being all business on Monday night, Modest Mouse's showing was a reminder that in a sea of 2000s contemporaries making janky riff-rock, scrappy and danceable punk or multi-movement jams about malcontents stuck in a hard place, Modest Mouse were ahead of the curve — eclectic and always in a field of their own, just a little to the left.
It's easy to look at Modest Mouse as generic indie in hindsight, but that viewpoint dismisses the band at its most creatively freewheeling and intriguingly unbridled. The Lonesome Crowded West capped off Modest Mouse's head-turning '90s period before the band began finessing their weirder impulses into more conceptual albums, like 2000's The Moon & Antarctica and their 2004 mainstream breakthrough Good News for People Who Like Bad News.
As far as anniversary tours go, though, the show followed a typical trajectory: Modest Mouse shot straight through The Lonesome Crowded West's 15 songs and closed with an encore the fans actually had to wait several minutes for — well-earned by today's standards. There were no sweet reminiscences from the band and no chit chat besides a quick 'thank you' midway through the set; Modest Mouse let the songs fulfill all the nostalgia the fans craved.
The corrupted, devolving funk jam of "Lounge (Closing Time)" and the swampy jug throwdown "Jesus Christ Was an Only Child" contrasted acoustic strummer highlights like "Bankrupt on Selling" and "Styrofoam Boots/It's All on Ice, Alright." The former got fans whooping, hollering, and clapping along when the drums hit a third of the way through and collapsed the acoustic breakwall, leading to a flood of caterwauling jams.
The band barrelled through the jagged, plinking "Teeth Like God's Shoeshine" and chugged along on "Convenient Parking," a bumpy ride with rolling drums that flapped like blown tires. They spun out on The Lonesome Crowded West's most explosive song, the dizzying "Shit Luck," while "Doin' the Cockroach" sent fans into a frenzy, kicking their legs like insects on their backs.
The Lonesome Crowded West is not only a dividing line between eras in Modest Mouse's songwriting, but a dividing line between the band's fans as well. However, it was all about unity at the Commodore. And despite being all business on Monday night, Modest Mouse's showing was a reminder that in a sea of 2000s contemporaries making janky riff-rock, scrappy and danceable punk or multi-movement jams about malcontents stuck in a hard place, Modest Mouse were ahead of the curve — eclectic and always in a field of their own, just a little to the left.
