Modest Mouse

The name seems like a joke: Modest Mouse, as opposed to...a gregarious mouse? A prideful mouse? Its name suggests something so introverted it threatens to disappear, yet that's exactly what Modest Mouse doesn't do. Whether playing a delicate ballad or rocking balls-out, Modest Mouse is undeniably present; even at their worst, when the musicians are lost in an endless, bore-your-ass-off jam, you stick with them, because there's the very real chance that the next bar will contain something magical.

Formed in Washington a few years ago, Modest Mouse--bassist Eric Judy, drummer Jeremiah Green, and guitarist-singer-ideas man Isaac Brock--have earned a surprisingly loyal following among indie rock cognoscenti, who hoped they might be the next great breakout band to move rock music ahead another click, an antidote to a mainstream music industry still picking at the bones of Nirvana. There was more to it than music, of course; there almost always is. They remain notorious for showing up to their gigs too drunk to play their instruments, and their interview remarks are often variations of "yeah" or "I dunno." If they are to become rock stars, they're not making it easy for themselves--which is just how their fans like it.

Pop-Culture-Corn spoke to drummer Jeremiah Green on the eve of the band's latest tour, promoting their new album The Moon and Antarctica. It's a significant album for them in many ways, mostly because they finally have the reputation--and wallet--of a major label behind them. How did that change things?

"We got a little more money to record," Green says with a laugh. "Not like tons of money or anything. I think you can [hear the difference]. I don't think it sounds that crazy. It didn't take that much longer to record, a couple weeks maybe. Isaac broke his jaw so that put it back a little.

"We wanted it to be a little different and do what we did before, but better. We used a computer [for the first time] to record it."

Modest Mouse takes a decidedly improvisational approach to music-making, both in the studio and on stage. In writing songs for The Moon and Antarctica, the band saw no need to depart from its established practice. "We just start playing," Green admits. "Isaac will come up with something, a line or something, and we'll just keep playing. It's really different every time. A lot of our stuff is improvised; we make some shit up on the spot. I think we've only recorded one demo, in Isaac's bedroom."

Asked whether his band is best considered a live band or a studio band, Green demurs. "It depends on what you like. Live we're a lot more out of control, a lot more sloppy. The records have a lot more overdubs." Modest Mouse may be in its element onstage, but Green has no illusions about the rock n' roll lifestyle. "It's kind of frustrating. Drunk people don't listen too well. I don't enjoy the being-tired-all-the-time part, and the being rushed around. I like meeting people and stuff."

Before getting into the studio, of course, a new label had to be found. Modest Mouse found itself the object of what music writers tend to call a "bidding war," negotiating with representatives from a variety of labels. "They gave us the run-around. It was fun meeting all these people. Dreamworks took us to L.A. for dinner and meetings." He laughs. "Then I don't know, they apparently lost interest." The band eventually settled on Epic Records, for reasons which, Green admits, he's not entirely clear on. "Epic sounded good, I guess. I'm sorry I don't remember." He laughs. "We got like pretty much the lowest deal you can get."

Time will tell whether Modest Mouse will join Michelle Shocked, XTC, and other artists in the Ruined By Major Labels landfill. Though I'm loath to jinx them, it would be strangely in keeping with Modest Mouse's distinctive brand of notoriety if they were to flame out in a bloody contractual dispute, rather than repeating themselves endlessly as their ages--and girth--increase. Would it be shallow of me to admit I hope Modest Mouse dies before it gets old?

Green is philosophical, greeting the prospect with a verbal shrug. "I'm sure we'll get sick of it someday. It's not gonna last forever."