It is not every day that we are lucky enough to have someone who reads this stuff. BUT we are lucky enough to find someone who wants to CONTRIBUTE. An extremely talented musician himself - Misha F-D hereby gives us his opinion on Arcade Fire's new album - The Suburbs
After Funeral and Neon Bible, The Suburbs, sounds like a pretty soft title. It doesn’t have the small-town-America anger of their first album or the paranoid, apocalyptic statements of their second, and as a result it’s so much more accessible. Sure, Neighborhood #2 (Laika) and My Body is a Cage are great songs, but how many people can relate to runaway brothers and rock star angst? That’s where The Suburbs’ genius lies; it takes your life and makes it so much more interesting. People know what it’s like learning to drive, to break an arm or to be bored in
endless, repetitive sprawl of a city’s fringes. The fact that Arcade Fire make it so musically interesting is testament to genuine, extravagant talent.
The Suburbs’ title track instantly places it in the middle-ground between their first two LPs. The sound of easy drums and bouncy piano shows a new Arcade Fire; Win Butler’s getting old at 30.
The whole album has a feel of nostalgia and comfort. Butler wants a daughter while he’s still young/ before all this damage is done. The typical Arcade Fire mix of hope and loss is in evidence
here, as throughout the album. After that opening statement, Ready To Start effortlessly drifts into existence, pitching its sound somewhere between Keep The Car Running, Wake Up, and
Rebellion; it’s as good as it sounds, and the real stand-out track of a fantastic album. Win Butler’s velvet-glove punk vocal backed by instrumentation that sounds brooding, yearning and stubborn.
Modern Man and Rococo have him playing the world’s coolest out-of-touch uncle; maybe when you’re older you will understand...they don’t know what game they’re playing. Half Light I and II step things up musically; velvety strings accompany Régine Chassagne’s first-half effort, huge, U2 guitar her husband’s second half. The effect is staggering; a suburban love letter with so many of the elements that make Arcade Fire magic; the understatedly elegant rhythms, the vivid lyrics and the telepathic ability to stop a song at exactly the right time; the nine-plus minutes of Half Light pass impossibly quickly. Suburban War has more of the same love letter
theme; Let’s go for a drive…there’s nothing to do/but I don’t mind when I’m with you.
Following those three sweet tracks, Month of May sticks out, but its Chuck Berry-meets-Queens of the Stone Age guitar provides some serious meat, and a touch of Neon Bible organ gives it the
tiny touch of weirdness it needs. The two-parter Sprawl I/II that effectively closes The Suburbs repeats the trick of Half Light in reverse, with Win Butler’s sorrowful, country-influenced half
fading into his wife’s more joyful take. Somehow, the OMD-meets-indie Cyndi Lauper
arrangement works, providing an uplifting finale reminiscent of In The Backseat. It’s one of about eight real standout tracks on the album.
That’s not to say the rest of the album is weak or piecemeal. The Suburbs plays like an hour-long conversation about suburban America, never losing focus or fading away. It’s an incredible feat, truly. Arcade Fire have conclusively delivered the goods.
