I'm on my way to god don't know

My brain's a burger

And my heart's the coal

I'm trying to get my head clear

I push things out through

My mouth but get refilled though my ears

"At one point, I decided never to do interviews because I figured I could talk about music or write it," says a groggy Brock via phone interview. "Reporters are always asking me if I care when I get compared to the Pixies or Built to Spill. What am I supposed to say? 'That fucking pisses me off, man. I hate that shit.'? I don't give a damn. They can compare me to Sade and Prince for all I care."

It doesn't really matter what Brock and cohorts Eric Judy, bass, and Jeremiah Green, drums, are trying to say or sound like. They may not understand them, but people are starting to take notice and Modest Mouse is quickly becoming the band that replaced the Pixies as the weirdly cool independent voice of alternative rock music.

Just how hip are they? The underground is talking. Nine Inch Nail's Trent Reznor loves em, as does punk elder statesman Bob Mould and Matador Records' co-president Gerard Cosloy (who doesn't count the band among his U.S. roster). Add to that a recently shared bill with Yo La Tengo in Seattle and you've got something of a buzz going.

Brock says he's grateful for the kind words, but doesn't seem to really care. Our phone interview woke him for the day just after lunch Seattle Time. No, he hadn't played a late gig. He'd been out all night partying. Brock, 24, makes no bones about it, he's struggling to keep from becoming a jaded rock star and getting caught up in the business.

"I'm trying to keep out of the business side, but it's hard. It doesn't really have anything to do with the music. But I'm trying. I'm pretty confused, you know?" he said. "When we started this, I never expected jack shit."

The band formed in 1992 in the Seattle suburb of Issaquah, Washington. Brock says he met Eric Judy in a video store and had played with Jeremiah Green. After practicing and recording demos from a shed next to his parents' house, the band recorded its first single on Olympia's K Records in 1994. In the years that followed, they recorded a number of singles and an EP before recording their 70-minute debut, "This is a Long Drive for Someone with Nothing to Think About" on Up Records. But it wasn't until last year's follow-up, "The Lonesome Crowded West," that the ball started rolling for Modest Mouse.

Though Brock says he loves his current label, Up Records, the big dogs are barking at his door, including mega-label Dreamworks. He has no reservations about jumping from his indie to a more commercial label. "I have a limited education," he says. "I don't want to be working shit jobs my whole life without the possibility of having a chance to even own my own house. I wouldn't mind actually getting paid (for making music). I love the record label I'm on, but I've got people knocking at the door. Commercial rock is usually pretty shitty, but it doesn't have to stay that way. I think we could go to a major label and still fly under the radar, you know?"

He says the band's next project is possibly writing a soundtrack for a major motion picture, "if I like it," he says. "Recently, I've been writing a lot of songs about the devil and outerspace. I'm not really into God or any of that shit, but I'm pretty sure I got a visit from the devil. He doesn't make daytime appearances; he visits you in your sleep."

Perhaps the meeting was inspired by Brock's hi-jinx on the road. During a recent gig in Lawrence, Kansas, he "got real drunk and broke beer bottles over my guitar. It's not really the way you want to represent yourself."

On top of that, the band had all of its equipment seized on the way out of Canada after U.S. Customs found "a crumb of grass" in their bags. "They let us off eventually after scaring the shit out of us for a couple of hours. We kissed as much ass as possible."

Are the experiences are merely fodder for the next Modest Mouse opus? You get the feeling that it's just Brock's way of staying young in the face of a future filled with lots of executives in business suits.

"There's this golf course right next to my house," he says, " where me and my neighbor stole a really nice bench and this huge-ass water container." What are you going to do with them now, I asked. "I'm gonna fill the container full of water and drink from it. And sit on the bench."