Modest Mouse
– Good News for People Who Love Bad News
If The Moon & Antarctica was Modest Mouse wandering the frozen void, Good News for People Who Love Bad News is the sound of them crashing back to Earth—hard, messy, and maybe just a little drunk. This is the album where Isaac Brock and company trade in their sprawling existentialism for something scrappier, sweatier, and just unhinged enough to make every song feel like it could careen off the rails at any second. It’s indie rock with its teeth bared—sometimes grinning, sometimes gnashing.
The album swings between manic energy and weary introspection. Float On became an anthem, a rare moment of wide-eyed optimism from a band known for staring into the abyss. But for every burst of sunshine, there’s a song like The World at Large, where Brock’s signature muttering turns wistful, or Bukowski, where his sneer wraps itself around a drunken critique of humanity. The arrangements are richer than ever—horns stab through the mix, banjos rattle in the background, and every instrument feels just slightly off-kilter in the best way.
It’s a record about surviving, about rolling with the punches even when they don’t stop coming. Brock’s lyrics still wrestle with the big questions, but here, he sounds less interested in answers and more in shaking his fists at the absurdity of it all. That’s what makes Good News great—it’s an album that dances through the chaos, even when it knows the floor is about to collapse.
Choice Tracks
Float On
Yes, it’s overplayed. Yes, it’s weird hearing Modest Mouse be this positive. And yet, it still works. The offbeat bounce, the perfectly sloppy guitar, the way Brock delivers every line like he’s trying to convince himself just as much as the listener—it’s a song that refuses to sink.
The World at Large
A sigh of a song, all drifting melodies and aimless wandering. Brock’s half-spoken delivery turns reflective, and the arrangement sways like a long, lonely road trip with no destination in mind.
Bukowski
Few bands could make a song this cynical and this catchy at the same time. Brock sneers at life’s unfairness over shuffling percussion and a woozy, off-kilter melody. It’s mean, it’s funny, and it’s oddly infectious.
Ocean Breathes Salty
If Float On is about making peace with life’s chaos, this one is about staring down death with a smirk. The chorus swells into something almost anthemic, but there’s always that undercurrent of unease, that sense that no one’s getting out of here clean.
Bury Me With It
Manic energy bottled into a single song. Brock yelps and barks through jagged guitars and pounding drums, ranting about materialism, mortality, and whatever else crosses his mind. It’s messy in the best way.
Blame It on the Tetons
A slow burn that lets the atmosphere build. The piano and strings give it a ghostly feel, and Brock’s lyrics are unusually restrained—less ranting, more resignation. It’s haunting, in a way Modest Mouse rarely is.
Good News for People Who Love Bad News is Modest Mouse at their most accessible, but it never feels like a compromise. It’s a drunken sermon, a joyful collapse, a middle finger wrapped in a hug. It’s messy, and that’s what makes it beautiful.