The word 'toxic' has been overused in recent years, to the point of losing its meaning. Yet I can think of no other way to describe this song than as TOXIC PEP. It is near-lethal amounts of positivity. A zillion times the recommended daily dose of optimism. Whenever I hear this song I have to stab a baby with the sharpened femur of the last baby I stabbed just to balance my world back out. If there aren't any stabbable babies in the vicinity, I have to drop puppies onto kittens from a seven-story building. I don't want to do that. I would never choose to do that otherwise. Yet it is the only way to restore equilibrium in the wake of this overdose of exuberance.
In the previous century, Modest Mouse was a great band. By the time this album came out, they had been transmogrified into a feeble shadow of their former selves. Sonic castrati. Musical muppets. Children's rock for teacher's pets.
Float On is a turd glistening in an artificial sun as it wafts down the River of Mediocrity toward the Sea of Shame. Someone should have pulled out a poop stick and sunk it before it ever became radio wormwood.
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