Revisitation Nation: We Were Dead Before The Ship Even Sank by Modest Mouse

 

Welcome back to Revisitation Nation, a series of posts where I talk about band's lesser-loved work and consider whether it deserves a revisit. So far it's a series of one, starring The Killers. No more will that post be lonely, as today I will discuss Modest Mouse's follow-up to "the album with Float On", We Were Dead Before The Ship Even Sank. To be honest, if I can speak on the future of this series, it's gonna have a lot of the flowchart below going on. 

Band floats under the radar in the indie scene releasing critically acclaimed work > Band has a breakout work that actually hits the charts > Band tries to follow it up with mixed results from the public.

Unlike Wonderful Wonderful however, I am not writing this with curiosity in mind. I am not writing this with doubt that this is a project perhaps not worth embarking on. I am writing this with full throated praise. If Good News For People Who Love Bad News (aka the album with float on on it) is the dividing line in Modest Mouse's career, then We Were Dead is firmly the strongest offering in that post Good News era. I'd easily argue that it's better than Good News, to be frank. I would even go so far as to say that its highest points match and sometimes eclipse their pre-Good News work. It's perhaps more impressive in my eyes than anything else they've ever done, and not solely because Johnny Marr of The Smiths joined the band for this one. Rather, it's due to the fact that given the circumstances, Isaac Brock and the Gang decided to create a work that kept the band's character intact. It's a deeply weird and fascinating work, with songs about robots and a cursed ship crew along with raw tales of mourning and human relationships fracturing. 

It's a deeply human work, but I want to be clear that I do not believe it is their best work. Something about the internet means nuance gets lost in translation. When I praise this album, it is because it is my personal favourite, that much is true. Despite that, if I had to give a ranking to Modest Mouse's discography, the Lonesome Crowded West, the Moon and Antarctica, and perhaps This is a Long Drive for Someone with Nothing to Think about would be considered better to me due to their cohesiveness and structure. I'd argue that on each of those works, the band manages to fulfil what could be considered the goal of the album better. Long Drive really does feel like a sprawling, druggy, drive, filled with spontaneity and fascinating grooves. The Lonesome Crowded West perfectly outlines the alienation of rural America in the 90s (and really the alienation of rural areas in general). The Moon and Antarctica is a space-age epic, that still relates to the human experience we all share and our place within the cosmos.

We Were Dead opens with "March Into The Sea". It can be assumed that this was a holdover from the album's original concept, that being a ship crew who died one by one, song by song. It's really the only nautical themed track on the thing. It's a stomper, don't get me wrong, powerful drums carrying wild guitars as Brock's manic yelping gives way to light-hearted crooning before marching right back into the sea. It's a fantastic opener, and really sets the tone for an album that We Were Dead really isn't. It's eclectic, and goes many different places, but it never really coalesces in the same way those early works (and arguably Good News) does. That said, this may be why, despite it not being their best work, it is easily my favourite and the one I go back to most. The strength of this work is it's exploratory nature. Choosing to release this as the follow up to an already divisive work could have killed the band with the public. Fortunately, that was not the case, because many of these songs are gems.

The next track on the album, "Dashboard" was derided by some as a Float On knockoff. I can certainly see similarities in the lyrical content. The track fits the same theme of bad things happening, but at least good things happen too. It approaches it in a very different tone to Float On however. Where Float On is revelatory joy in the knowledge that someday you simply won't care about that thing that happened, Dashboard is kind of.... a shit about the whole thing, almost leaning into indifference. Things could get worse (and they might) but at least the fuckin radio works idk man i'm tired. The song does have similarities to Float On musically as well, built around a shifting guitar lick, but it features a groove at it's core that Float On lacks. It also possesses soaring strings that build around the aforementioned elements to create something unique and grandiose. I would hesitate to take anyone seriously who claims that Dashboard is a simple Float On ripoff. It is thematically similar sure, but different enough to matter, and denying the pure joy of this track's instrumentation is something I advise against.

"Fire It Up" is a slight lull for me, with droning repetition of the title among other phrases (such as the mildly confusing "etcetera-nough"). Nonetheless, the chorus is gorgeous, and there are some cool one-liners ("Like trying to save an ice cube from the cold" sticks in my mind). Regardless, not a highlight personally. "Florida" is the first track to feature James Mercer of The Shins, and he puts in a good shift, with his falsetto intertwining with Brocks whispers in the chorus to great effect. Not much to say about this one, it's a rock solid mid00s indie rock track. "Parting of the Sensory" is not that. "Parting of the Sensory" is the complete opposite of standard and it's fucking stellar. Starting as a low-key acoustic number with Brock's soft vocals gliding over strummed chords and handclaps, he duets with himself as a second guitar comes in and the build starts. Strings deviously simmer as Brock becomes more and more unhinged, screaming about clothes made out of wasps. The final 2 minutes introduce an electric guitar duelling with the strings and the acoustic, as Brock manically yelps about how "someday you will die somehow and somethings gonna steal your carbon". Everything drops out except the drums, claps, and the vocals following this mantra. Then it fucking pops off into an insane hoedown. Whoever's playing the fiddle here steals the show (cbf checking the album liner notes at work but I respect you fiddle man) but truthfully, it's a strong cast all round. The build-up before the explosion is masterful, fooling listeners into thinking this is going to be a low-key acoustic track in the vein of something like "Bankrupt on Selling" before turning into a sea shanty hoedown. It is a shifting, expanding thing, and it's one of my favourite tracks on this album and up there as an all-timer for the band as a whole.

"Missed the Boat" carries the strongest Johnny Marr influence of any song here. Jangly guitars give way to a chorus filled with gorgeous harmonies, as Isaac Brock waxes poetically on missing out on life as one lives it. It's one of the more accessible songs on here, aided by Marr's pop sensibilities. Accessible does not equal bad however, with the chorus on "Missed The Boat" backed by strong lyricism in the verses and a really lovely bridge. It's not revolutionary but it feels like a successful encapsulation of what post-Good News Modest Mouse try to do. It's a pretty, happy-sad meditation on life itself.  "We've Got Everything" continues this run: featuring groove! The duelling guitar riffs are the star of this show, along with James Mercer of the Shins shouting out "we've done" like it's a mantra. "Fly Trapped In A Jar" continues the groove with slightly more mixed results. It's off kilter and weird, lyrics featuring a one-winged fly trapped in a jar screaming about how it isn't enough to leave. It's one of those songs that I think would be great live due to the nature of it's instrumentation, but isn't particularly interesting on record. It does develop into a more funk influenced track, albeit with Brock's manic delivery as opposed to any smooth funk. "Fly Trapped In A Jar" is ultimately, the definition of a grower to me. I would only hear this song as part of the album's rotation, never playing it outside of that context and even often skipping it. Gradually however, I found myself getting past it's slow intro and enjoying its doom-filled groove. "Education" continues this strangely funky section of the album. The rhythm section carries this track, constantly shifting in a forward momentum while the guitars dance around it. It's not one of Brock's most memorable in terms of it's lyrics, however I am fond of the couplet "All them books I didn't read/They just sat there on my shelf lookin' much smarter than me". It's another solid track in a string of solid tracks, continued by "Little Motel."

Scratch that, it's not a run continued by "Little Motel", it's a run crowned by "Little Motel". Going by the emotional music video it's about mourning a child. Going by reddit comments and this article it's about mourning the end of a relationship. At the end of the day, it's a fucking sad song about the process of mourning something, whatever Mr. Brock is truly singing about. The instrumentation is designed to surgically slice into your chest and play guitar with your heartstrings, soaring and falling as emotion dictated. The solo on this feels like a living creature. Also, how often do you get a ballad with a guitar solo outside of the 80s glam rock era? And how often does that solo perfectly compliment the balladic nature of the track?  Not to mention Isaac's incredible vocal delivery, a fragile whisper that breaks into a powerful, strained, full throated anthem. It's an absolute gem of a track and never fails to make me feel some form of wistful catharsis. One of the band's best in a stacked catalogue.

I've been generally very positive because I do truly love this album. I do have to lob something at it though, and that's its sequencing, and Little Motel's place in the album exemplifies this issue. From "We've Got Everything" to "Education" you have a series of solid, somewhat funky, indie rock tracks. To go from that to "Little Motel" feels a bit tonally at odds, underlined when the track following "Little Motel" is "Steam Engenius", another funk inspired tune featuring... idk, a steam-powered robot who's sad about it? I think? It's weird to not lump this in with the 3 indie-rock grooves preceding "Little Motel". Instead, "Little Motel" ends, you have literally 5 seconds to process and you're feeling big emotions. Then a jangly, goofy guitar riff smacks you across the face as Brock's staccato delivery talk-sings "I was born in a factory/ far away from the milky teeth (?)". It's straight up whiplash. This is a song quite disliked by Modest Mouse fans generally, but I think on its own, it's actually kinda cool. The chorus rips, with Brock continuing his stabbing delivery as machine parts whir and "woo-hoo woo-hoo" rings out from the background. It's a fine, fun track that is sabotaged by it's placement after the most emotional track on the album, coming in with an immediacy that disables the audience's capability to process the preceding song. Were it up to me, it'd be a simple fix of swapping the two tracks, allowing "Little Motel" to lead into the epic "Spitting Venom" and "Steam Engenius" to fit into the funk inspired middle of the album. As it stands, it's a strange, alienating choice to have these two songs next to each other. 

The aforementioned "Spitting Venom" is the longest track here, at 8:27. It and "Parting of the Sensory" feel like kindred spirits, starting with simple acoustics before bringing in a suite of other instruments. "Spitting Venom" however, splits itself into various distinct sections. The first switch up occurs when Brock says "drop" which is fun. Feels very EDM, gack it up, you know how it is. It is a constantly shifting and moving piece, picking up and dropping instruments as it pleases. The outro featuring a horn section is phenomenal, reaching "Little Motel" level highs. I'd be remiss if I didn't mention Brock's lyrics here. 

"Hold on to what you need/We got a knack for fucked up histories" 

"You can say what you want/But don't act like you care/It takes more than one person/To decide what's fair" 

"Cheer up baby/ It wasn't always quite so bad/For every bit of venom that came out/The antidote was had"

All these lines resonate deeply with me, along with many others which are accentuated by the gorgeous instrumentation. It's another all-timer for me, S-tier Mouse. 

Honestly, Spitting Venom would have been a fine outro track, but we have two more from here. They're fine. I don't really have much to say on "People As Places As People" or "Invisible". I do prefer the latter, as while PAPAP (i'm not typing it again) is alright, it lacks the sheer energy of "Invisible" that breaks into an earworm of a chorus. And hey! "We'll get crushed by the ocean but it will not get us wet" closes out the album, reminding everyone about the nautical theme. That's fun!

I say that in jest, in reality there are some frequently recurring lyrical themes, usually involving transport. "Missed the Boat", obviously. "Fire It Up", "Dashboard", "Invisible" and "Little Motel" all reference cars, broken down and otherwise. PAPAP (still not typing it - no i've never heard of ctrl+C), "Spitting Venom", "Steam Engenius", "Fly Trapped in a Jar" all discuss journeys. I think this album is far denser than it is generally given credit for. Songs weave in and out of various topics while hitting similar thematic throughlines. Transport, the way we move throughout the world, the reasons why we do so. It's an album about the forward momentum of life itself. All barrelling towards one destination: We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank. I love that title, truly. It's a statement on entropy, that someday you WILL die somehow and SOMETHING's gonna steal your carbon. And after we're all dead, the ship itself will sink. Note the deliberation here, we died before the ship even sank - but the ship most certainly sank too. These themes seep into the album as a whole, helping remind one why living is worth it even if it doesn't always feel so. Because it will end, and you simply have to do something with the time between.

A personal anecdote now. This is gonna deal with discussions of self harm and suicide, so if those topics aren't really your bag, here's a good spot to opt out. Thank you for reading, and if you haven't already, go listen to this album. 

I attempted suicide two years ago. The events that led up to it were deeply traumatic and the event itself more so. I couldn't go a good year without retching any time I smelled a clean bathroom, on account of the bleach I ingested. I was in the local psychiatric hospital for two months and then returned a year later after a second try at the whole thing. I'm glad I was bad at killing myself. During my first stay at the hospital, I listened to a lot of sad songs, particularly Silver Jews and Modest Mouse. Their themes of alienation and death reflected a lot of what I was feeling at the time. Nothing resonated more than this album's highest points. In a moment in my life where all I readily had was my phone and some headphones, I found myself coming back to this album over and over, sitting in those sticky leather chairs in the heat of the Australian summer. I distinctly remember feeling a strange sense of reassurance as Isaac Brock yelped at me that "SOMEDAY YOU WILL DIE SOMEHOW AND SOMETHING'S GONNA STEAL YOUR CARBON". It made me think of how, even if I had failed in my attempt, I will die someday and something will distinctly take the body that I have lived in. Be it the bugs or the flames of the incinerator, I will disappear, left as nothing but memories in other people's heads. Until they go too, whereby I will be truly gone, transformed into pure matter. I had always found this work to be an overall underrated album, but listening to it at that stage of my life was downright edifying. This album sparked a moral imperative within me to chase venom with an antidote. I started visiting meditation classes in the hospital driven by the messages on this album. I started conversations with other patients after weeks of silently sitting on my own. Sometimes, when I just wanted to feel something aside from the dullness of the medication, I'd sit in the room, play "Little Motel" and cry harder than I did when my family first saw me. I didn't want them to see me like that, after all. 

I can't say for sure whether this album is as good as I think it is. It's uneven, yet somehow thematically cohesive. It's highest points reach and arguably surpass all their other work, yet its weakest tend to drag. At the end of the day though, I saw Modest Mouse this year in Sydney and they played Dashboard. To my surprise, while I was jumping, and hollering to the groove of it all, I started to tear up. Just from seeing them there, from the memories that were tied into that song and this album as a whole. I think that reflects what this album means to me. At it's best, this album makes me feel things in a way that few works do. It's core thematic cycle of the negative and the positive being entwined, of the venom followed by the antidote, is one that is explored fully through many differing examples tied together through other recurring thematic elements. It's a sorely underrated work in my eyes that deserves a reappraisal in the popular consciousness. It's not their best, but it is my favourite. Maybe if you give it a go, you'll agree. Or you won't, in which case feel free to berate me in the comment section.

Thank you sincerely for reading, and thank you to Modest Mouse for this record.