Free association: wind in your hair, ginger hair, scarves (Jackie O style), running in a field and then getting grass rash, epic high fives.
Disclaimer: this review is not being written by an Arcade Fire fanatic.
Phew. It actually feels better to admit that.
Seeing as though this Montreal a bazillion piece (relative, obvz) is growing into epic stadium sized proportions of fame/popularity/sound, we best get the above admission out of the way now. Perhaps it will make for some impartial observations, but probably not, because there is little to say about Arcade Fire that hasn’t already been said in a more eloquent and insightful manner.
Basically, Arcade Fire is a band that will appeal to almost all reaches of music appreciators everywhere. Theirs is sound that has a lot to do with the heart, which very much literally as well as otherwise, is a universal organ. Kanye West probably has something complimentary to say about Arcade Fire if he hasn’t said it already.
The Suburbs is the band’s third full-length, and what they’ve done is pretty clever. They’ve mixed it up and kept some parts low key to highlight the parts that are positively jubilant, hold-your-bros-and-cry-a-little-manly-tear moments. There’s something dramatic and delightfully operatic about the whole thing, especially as Win Butler and Régine Chassagne play swapsies on the vocals to change up the feel while keeping it cohesive. All the while Arcade Fire sounds like Arcade Fire, and with an almost regally distinct aural signature, I mean this in the least snide or snarkiest of ways.
The closest you’re going to come to marching on the spot or conducting some gentle fist pumping comes towards the end of the 16-track release. Here we have 'Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)' and clearly if a track needs a part two it’s worth listening to what the song has to say. In this case though we’re not really sure, because we’re busy marching. Or fist pumping. Or maybe even both.
More at
arcadefire.com.