After more than a decade with {$Modest Mouse}, {$Isaac Brock} still sounds young and weird and searching, and never more so than on {^Good News for People Who Love Bad News}, which follows the band's meditative {^The Moon & Antarctica} with a set of songs that are more focused, but also less obviously profound. The occasionally indulgent feel of {^The Moon & Antarctica} allowed {$Modest Mouse} the room to make epic statements about life, death, and the afterlife; while {^Good News for People Who Love Bad News} is equally concerned with mortality and spirituality, it has a more active, immediate feel that makes its comments on these subjects that much more pointed. The band hits these points home with a louder, more {\rock}-oriented sound than they've had since {^The Lonesome Crowded West}, particularly on {&"Bury Me With It,"} which embodies many of the contradictions that continue to make {$Modest Mouse} fascinating. For a song loosely about contemplating death, it sounds strikingly vital and liberated; {$Brock} delivers finely shaded lyrics like "We are hummingbirds who've lost the plot and we will not move" with a barbaric yawp; it's nonsensical but oddly climactic, conveying how what seems trivial can be anything but. {&"The View"}'s angular bassline and scratchy guitars underscore the {$Talking Heads} influence on {$Modest Mouse}, but since {$the Heads} have become a more trendy touchstone (mostly for bands with less creativity than either {$Talking Heads} or {$Modest Mouse}), it's nice to hear how {$Brock} and company take that influence in a different direction instead of just rehashing it with less inspiration. Feeling stuck is a major theme on {^Good News for People Who Love Bad News}, but the same can't be said about the album's sound, which spans the forceful {\rock} of the aforementioned songs, to the pretty {\guitar pop} of {&"Float On"} and {&"Ocean Breathes Salty,"} to the lovely, rustic {&"Blame It on the Tetons."} That's not even mentioning the contributions of {$the Dirty Dozen Brass Band}, who open {^Good News for People Who Love Bad News} with the aptly named {&"Horn Intro."} They also add a theatrical jolt to the wickedly funny, {$Tom Waits}-inspired {&"Devil's Workday,"} which along with the noisy stomp of {&"Dance Hall"} and {&"Bukowski"}'s witty self-loathing, underscore that {$Modest Mouse} haven't lost the edge that made the band compelling in the first place. Other standouts include {&"Satin in a Coffin,"} a creatively creepy mix of rattling {\bluegrass}-{\rock} with a {\tango} beat that nods to the group's backwater roots; {&"One Chance,"} an unusually open and straightforward {\ballad}; and the dreamlike {&"World at Large,"} on which {$Brock} sings, "I like songs about drifters -- books about the same/They both seem to make me feel a little less insane," once again proving that he's a past master of lyrics that are both abstract and precise. Even though this album isn't as immediately or showily brilliant as {^The Moon & Antarctica}, {^Good News for People Who Love Bad News} reveals itself as just as strong a statement. By drawing an even sharper contrast between the harsh and beautiful things about their music, as well as life, {$Modest Mouse} have made an album that's moving and relevant without being pretentious about it. ~ Heather Phares, All Music Guide