Listening Station: Modest Mouse, JC Chasez, Ratatat

Modest Mouse

Good News for People Who Love Bad News

Last year, the most joyous discovery on alternative rock radio wasn't even a rock song. The single in question was hip-hop act OutKast's "Hey Ya!" and it wasn't just that it was so ebullient and sonically refreshing--it was a genuine crossover coup few expected. Conversely, the most remarkable thing about Modest Mouse's eccentric anthem, "Float On"--the first single off its fourth studio album, Good News for People Who Love Bad News--isn't its surge upward on alternative radio charts. Rather, it's the most uplifting and delightfully unconventional track being pushed onto the airwaves. It's certainly no "Hey Ya!" in terms of pop appeal or originality, but it's nearly as charming and addictive.

After 10 years of growing cult fandom in the college rock underground, the Northwestern quartet is poised for a commercial breakthrough with Good News, the band's second full-length for Epic Records. And while Modest Mouse hasn't necessarily made a grab for success by making a more accessible album, it has embraced a more focused way of expressing itself. Singer/guitarist Isaac Brock remains a peculiar character, yelping and twisting his existential prose through the band's famously angular indie punk. But thanks to a sharper melodicism and the vision of neo-rustic producer Dennis Herring (Camper Van Beethoven), most of the album's 16 tracks are bona fide tunes. The rhythms (especially via drummer Benjamin Weikel) aren't without their seductive prowess either, from stompers like "The View" to "Satin in a Coffin," which marches along much like "Five to One" by the Doors.

While each Modest Mouse release has been an artistic progression, Good News sounds the most confident. Previously, the band seemed inclined to create spontaneously frenetic moments. Here, the performances emphasize craft and sensibility (see the folk-jam of "Blame It on the Tetons"). Furthermore, Brock has never sounded more enlightened--or at least more understanding of the natural plights of life. Death seems to have informed much of his current world view, where maturity begets acceptance--and even optimism. "Even if things get heavy, we'll all float on," he harmonizes in his first true hit. Good news, indeed.--Mike Prevatt

JC Chasez

Schizophrenic

If there was any justice in this world, George Clinton (a.k.a. Uncle Jam) would have replaced Uncle Sam as the national mascot, Fugazi frontman Ian MacKaye would have gotten cancer from his moral superiority and N'Sync songbird JC Chasez would not be able to put together a solo album as good as Schizophrenic.

But let's not be quite so hasty. Schizophrenic isn't the White Album or anything; it's just a solid dance-pop album inflected with stylistic nods to the likes of Prince, Jamiroquai and the one and only Jacko. There's also some whistling, hand clapping and organic instrumentation that harkens back to George Michael before that regrettable public men's room incident. And then there's a straight-outta-1984 synth-stravaganza called "All Day Long I Dream About Sex," which climaxes with a freaky-deaky funk jam worthy of Cameo.

All in all--with the exception of a couple of cavity-inducing ballads--it's an amazingly versatile performance from a dude who once played Clarence "Wipeout" Adams on the "Mickey Mouse Club" soap opera "Emerald Cove." Of course, there's no excuse for lines like "when I'm all alone, I lie awake and masturbate" and "keep in mind I'm a love machine," but Chasez isn't apologizing for his lyrical indiscretions. At times, he reminds of the Danish duo Junior Senior, whose 2003 album D-D-Don't Stop the Beat was showered with critical accolades despite containing marshmallow verses like, "Come on in/ Take off your coat/ Eat our chips/ We've got loads." Yet their record somehow got a pass for being ironic and--gasp!--fun, while Chasez will likely get lambasted for being such an outlandish wannabe pimp. But his self-deprecation should be obvious from the spoken word exchange on "One Night Stand." When Chasez tries to push up on a lovely lady in a nightclub, she deflects his advances with the sarcastic salvo, "Pssh, yeah 'cause you're like sooo smooth." His response: "Yeah. I know."--Newt Briggs

Lock up the women and children, JC Chasez will drop the synth-pop bomb at the House of Blues on April 21 at 7 p.m. Tickets are $20-$30. Info: 632-7600.

Ratatat

Ratatat

One of the best things about music is that not everybody can do it. Sure, between the trickling down of punk's egalitarian, DIY ethos and ever-cheapening technology, a lot of people these days think they can. They form indie rock bands and mouth manifestoes about taking music back from the big evil labels; they become the dreaded Opening Act that seems to take forever, even though you purposely showed up to the club late in hopes of missing them, but no, the Opening Act started late, and now you've got your overpriced Newcastle and your stupid pink wristband and you've got to sit through this shit.

Ratatat is one of those bands--one whose "why can't we?" signature you can hear on every keyboard peal and winking synth line. The band's debut album for Beggars Group/XL records is two fistfuls of post-ironic, no-rent Tortoise; better yet, imagine Kraftwerk minus the Kraut angularity and replaced with a smiling slackerdom that lends the songs on Ratatat a warmth and approachability. Oh, it's not that Ratatat is bad; the band is quite good--you can clearly hear the smarts and sweat Evan Mast and Mike Stroud put into the slow, taffy-machine antics of "Everest," the sunny plonky scrapple of "Lapland" and the rest of these bedroom-bound Casio creations that sound like songs for video games you can't quite remember.

But there's a corollary to that nod to hard work, and that's, well, you could probably come up with something like this if you bought all the equipment and futzed around long enough in your bedroom: competent, decently crafted Nintendocore that shows great promise. Just good enough to be an opening act.--Andrew Kiraly