Three years ago, my brother Nick gave me a CD. He mentioned it was not really his thing, but he was quite certain I would enjoy it. (This happens to me more than most, I suspect; the glare coming from my cluttered desk emanates from a healthy stack of discs donated by friends and colleagues. Maybe this means that people think I have lousy taste in music—or my likes are completely predictable.)
The CD was the debut release of a band hailing from Montreal by the name of Arcade Fire. The release, titled Funeral, was a tornado of sound and emotion like nothing I had heard before. At times all was serene, only to be followed by a lush crescendo of sound. All this brought to you by a band of at least seven members playing the guitar, drums, bass, violin, cello, doublebass, french horn, keyboard, xylophone, accordion, hurdy gurdy, and a harp. (A hurdy gurdy is also called a wheel fiddle—of course, I had to look that up.)
Looking back, this was a time of new discovery and wonder for music fans. Acts such as Bloc Party, the Kaiser Chiefs, the Bravery, Keane, Franz Ferdinand, and the Killers were making their major label debuts in 2004. Arcade Fire went on to gain widespread critical acclaim, as Funeral topped several lists as the album of the year. Arcade Fire moved over 300,000 units of Funeral and the album was certified platinum in Canada. This made Arcade Fire the most famous band nobody had ever heard of.
True story: in 2004, I was attending the U2 show in Portland in support of the How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb album. Kanye West had just kicked things off with an opening set that had either confused or enthralled the late-arriving audience. While the hardest-working road crew in the business changed sets, the house music filled the arena. Then it happened. Arcade Fire’s “Wake Up,” from Funeral, began to play. I am unsure whether it was the otherworldly chorus or the driving rhythm, but a crowd of more than 18,000 was compelled to stand and applaud. That was a standing frickin ovation for house music! This is the sort of feeling that Arcade Fire generates with their emotional brand of rock and roll.
Fast forward three short years, and many of the bands mentioned above have released follow-up albums infused with hopes of avoiding the dreaded sophomore slump. Bloc Party, The Kaiser Chiefs, and the Bravery managed to produce records that sound no different than their first efforts. Keane and the Killers managed to release albums that were considerably worse than their debuts.
This left Arcade Fire as the band with the most to prove. Could they balance all the facets of their layered sound on their new release, titled Neon Bible? In January, after hearing the first single, “Black Mirror,” I would have been inclined to answer that question with a resounding NO! “Black Mirror” is a clumsy, plodding tune that sounds nothing like the most revered tracks on their previous release. The critics were less than impressed as well; Arcade Fire was picked as a band most likely to disappoint in 2007.
A February appearance on Saturday Night Live completely shifted my thinking. Arcade Fire put on an electric performance that had music blogs and my head buzzing for weeks. Lead singer Win Butler and the rest of the band ran through renditions of their new songs “Intervention” and “Keep the Car Running” that left the studio audience stunned. Neon Bible was released in early March and premiered at number two on the Billboard Top 200 chart.
A quick run through the new record reveals an album that is not as consistent as its predecessor, but offers three gems that shine brightly. “Keep the Car Running,” “Intervention,” and “Antichrist Television Blues” are as strong a trio as you will hear on any new release this year. Arcade Fire has traded some of their quirkiness for a brand of Born to Run-era Springsteen rock that drips with fear, lust, and every other type of emotion.
The album is not without its shallow spots. The previously mentioned “Black Mirror” is an odd choice as an album opener. “Black Wave/Bad Vibrations,” “Windowsill,” and “My Body is a Cage” are average at best, and pale further beside the strength of the albums standouts.
The strongest track, “Antichrist Television Blues,” is an epic piece of storytelling that leads the listener through the protagonist’s trials, closing with a cliffhanger ending—both musically and lyrically. Upon further inspection, I find myself trying to identify both the instrumentation and the hidden meanings I may have missed in the narrative. The structure of the song is so progressive that it brings to mind another groundbreaking song, Radiohead’s “Paranoid Android.”
And oh—the clapping; how can I forget the clapping? Mark my words, clapping is the new cow bell for 2007.
Arcade Fire has managed to avoid the dreaded sophomore slump, with an album that more than fulfills the promise exhibited in their debut. Perhaps the greatest praise I heard came from the person responsible for my introduction to the band. Over a recent dinner with my brother, we were discussing new releases from the likes of Wilco, Modest Mouse, and Arcade Fire (this is what we do). Of Neon Bible, my brother said, “I like it, it sounds just like Eddie and the Cruisers.”
It doesn’t get any better than that.
