Modest Mouse's Phoenix show was an indie rock master class

Haboob be damned. Or, fuck a haboob. The storm sentiment is your choice. Either way, late-summer, Arizona-style weather didn’t stop Modest Mouse fans, including me, from heading downtown last night to watch the band blast their way through 20 songs.

Much like that aggro, 65 miles-per-hour storm, the indie rock veterans rolled into town, did their business of plowing, shredding, marching and stomping their way through songs spanning their catalog, leaning heavier on the mid-years, and closed up shop.

Before singer Isaac Brock and his team took the stage, though, Friko opened. I said the weather didn’t keep me at home, but it did make me late, so unfortunately, I didn’t catch most of their set, and from what I heard them play, that’s a bummer.

The indie rock duo — a foursome last night with some touring members — are from Chicago, and feature Niko Kapetan on vocals and guitar and Bailey Minzenberger on drums. They dropped their first full-length, “Where We’ve Been, Where We Go From Here,” in 2024 and got loads of praise and love. Rightfully so.
I was curious to see how their lush, layered indie, chamber-pop, post-punk blended set of recordings would translate live. Not only were my expectations met, but I was blown away by how huge their sound was. Kapetan’s vocals? Damn, the pipes on this guy! At times, his voice is this stark, vibrato-laden mix that reminds me of what might happen if you put early Devendra Banhart and Wayne Coyne into a blender with some Beatles records. For real. When it was time to go big, the sound and the vocals moved easily into the anthemic arena space, filling the room with ease and with that emotional urgency that pulls you upward. Next time, I’ll be there for the whole shebang.

The Modest Mouse crowd was ready for action, and when the headliners took the stage, letting the dark room open up to purple and green beams of light, everyone lost their minds. Lots of people just kept shouting “I love you” towards the stage, and there was a whole lotta hugging going on. Not just a crowd of longtimers comprising the audience, either — it was a mixed bag of ages. I’m not sure if one person in attendance didn’t know every word to every song.

One thing I'd not noticed before in my years of seeing the band is how many fans act out the lyrics. Tall bearded guy with the cap and the continuous heart hands in the air, definitely talking about you. Even if you get some jabs or can’t see through raised arms, it’s the kind of shit that you can’t get too pissed about (I mean, you can) because the joy is undeniable.

Something about Modest Mouse's music offers a sliver of light, no matter what dark caves it ventures into. Maybe it’s just the relatability of knowing you’re not alone. For me, Brock solidified his hold on hope in 2003 when he got a tattoo saying ‘Life Is Still Sweet,’ inspired by the song with that title by White Hassle, a bluesy, alt-country, rock band from NYC led vocally by one of my favorite unsung songwriters, Marcellus Hall. The song is a perfect reminder that it's one foot in front of the other.

It was “The World at Large” that opened the show, and it was loud, crisp and booming; gloriously orchestral. When the record that song is on, “Good News for People Who Love Bad News” came out in 2004, it launched the band into a broader sphere, delivering multiple hits and upping the fan game all around. It also marked an evolution in their sound; new instrumentations, some smoother edges. But the philosophical ruminations, self-introspection and emotions remained intact and the sound that always had an inherent loudness became broader.

“The Ocean Breathes Salty” from that same record is just a brutal track, no matter how you cut it, and the band playing it with the fire they did last night, and Brock shooting the vocals through sometimes tightened teeth drove it all the way home. Anyone can take this song and its conversation and apply it to a real-life death-oriented experience. Maybe it’s a chat with your future self, inviting you to dig inward. Watching it live just steels it up, making its words unavoidable.
Aside from the guitars, bass and drums, there were horns, maracas, a stand-up bass and some turntable scratches that stacked the musical deck. The band’s energy level started high and continued to crank up through the night. Brock was the passionate preacher all night. That’s another thing that’s evolved in interesting ways — his storytelling. In the early days, it felt more like him telling us a story, and that ultimately became a collaborative journey. Now it feels more like, primarily through the delivery, he’s running through the details beside us, explaining, painting the picture.

The band’s live record, “Baron Von Bullshit Rides Again,” from 2004, has some songs they played last night, including “Broke” and “Wild Packs of Family Dogs,” and it’s fun to dig the differences between then and now. Also, indie rock fans may agree: I bet GBV’s Robert Pollard, at some point, was so sad that he didn’t think of this album title first.

“Breakthrough” from 1996’s “This is a Long Drive for Someone with Nothing to Think About” was a total banger at the show. Ferocious past the point of just being happy to hear some oldies. Another New Times person heard someone utter surprise at not realizing that Modest Mouse “goes this hard,” ‘cause yeah, they hammered it from front to back. “Dashboard,” “Fire It Up” and “Dramimine” were all in the mix before “Spitting Venom” was the zipper.

Modest Mouse vs inclement weather? I know which force of nature took home the crown on August 25.

Here are a few more pictures from Modest Mouse and Friko at The Van Buren: