Review Summary: A taste of what is to come, and surprisingly featuring one of their best songs in the form of the title track.
There is little that can be said for Modest Mouse that hasn't been said already. Their pervasive guitar twanging and consistently depthful lyrics make up the majority of their sound while continuously featuring a more experimental style, beginning with
Night on the Sun in 1999. Three of the six tracks would later be placed in their following studio album, 2000s
The Moon & Antarctica. After the more punk-influenced
The Lonesome Crowded West in 1998, their next LP ended up being their most experimental and grandiose release, featuring more abstract themes of the celestial and otherworldly.
Night on the Sun makes for a modest and tantalizing preview of what to expect next at the turn of the millennium. The first two tracks however, don't appear on any studio albums, and remains one of the understated EP's biggest mysteries given their ambition and uniqueness.
"Night on the Sun" begins with a mid-tempo groove as Isaac Brock sings
"So, turn off the light 'cause it's light of the sun, you're hopelessly hopeful, I hope so, for you. Freeze your blood and then stab it into in two, stab your blood into me and blend." Brock's lyrics about self-imposed loneliness remain some of his most violent and heart wrenching. What follows is one of Modest Mouse's most emotive and adventurous moments for nearly two minutes, as twin guitars trade melodies and harmonies until Brock comes back in with,
"Well there's one thing to know about this town, it's five hundred miles underground; and that's alright. Well there's one thing to know about this globe, it's bound and it's willing to explode, and that's alright." The song calms down until building back up and finally relaxing again into an extended guitar centric outro.
Almost ten minutes long, "Night on the Sun" is ultimately just as good as their next two epics, "The Stars Are Projectors" and "Spitting Venom," among the band's best songs. "Night on the Sun" is perhaps their best guitar-based performance, and remains a true musical journey. "You're The Good Things (It's Alright To Die)" sounds like it could fit right in the middle of
The Moon & Antarctica's track-list, mainly comprised of eccentric double vocals and ever-changing, dueling guitar riffs that take particular charge in the adventurous outro. It is interestingly one of the more subtle tracks but appropriate given the already displayed complexity and ambition. The following three songs all appear on
The Moon & Antarctica and act as an appropriate sampling of its sound. The sixth and final song "No Title" is eighteen seconds of drummer Jeremiah Green speaking Japanese, a nod to Japanese fans given this EP's original status as a Japan-only album.
The decision to omit "Night on the Sun" and "You're The Good Things (It's Alright To Die)" from any major releases is questionable, and perhaps the band realized this given their later decision to include edited versions of them on their next EP
Everywhere and His Nasty Parlour Tricks, released less than a year after
The Moon & Antarctica. While
Night on the Sun is unnecessary to preview an almost fifteen year old album, it remains essential for having one of their best and most obscure songs that shows everything they would become, and exhibits their true potential.
