Neon Bible (album review)
Guess what? A brand-new Arcade Fire album review in time for St. Hallmark's Day. I've listened to this album over seven times so far, and haven't grown sick of it yet. So here are my thoughts on it:
Fire is one of the fundamental physical elements. In legend, it was cleverly stolen by Prometheus from the gods and given to mankind who yearned to have access to fire's tremendous power. Its fearsome potential to both destroy and create was first worshiped by mystical alchemists and later harnessed by scientific industrialists to transform the world in many ways, unfortunately often manifested by the uniquely-human characteristic to destroy. But even in destruction, fire can be an inspiration. Whoever or whatever started a fire in an arcade somewhere deserves the gratitude of the music world for inspiring the name of the band Arcade Fire. Like Prometheus before them, the band members of Arcade Fire, led by husband and wife team Win Butler and Régine Chassagne, channel the fire of the gods to forge ingenious compositions they generously bestow upon humanity.
Of late, humanity, especially in the UK and North America, seems to be eagerly receiving Arcade Fire, for their live shows are selling out minutes after tickets go on sale. Seeing such success for a band made famous solely by word-of-mouth, many are simplistically labeling Arcade Fire as a recent "underground phenomenon" and drawing glib comparisons between them and bands such as Joy Division, Roxy Music and Neutral Milk Hotel. But these left-brained attempts to categorize them by their musical influences, analyze their tonal dynamics or quantify their diverse instrumental capability fall incredibly short of describing the magic that is contained within their music. Dispensing with distracting facts, one must experience their immersive music first-hand and allow the soul to be overcome by the complex range of emotion the music creates.
Neon Bible, Arcade Fire's second and latest full-length release, is awash with such expressive feeling. The predominant mood is a sincere thoughtfulness that sometimes glows with hope and sometimes broods in sorrow. The front album artwork appropriately captures the essence of this mood with its bright neon lights forming the outline of a book in a starkly contrast to a dark backdrop. Perhaps the dark backdrop is the more comforting of the two. "No Cars Go", a song re-recorded from Arcade Fire's 2003 EP Us Kids Know, as the title suggests, evokes a serenity that shuts out the clamor of modern civilization. The song lulls the listener to sleep, an escape from garish light pollution and shoving crowds to the dreamworld with its gentle darkness.
Amid the crooning lullabies and soaring chorals, Neon Bible manages to tastefully interweave pointed social criticisms. Alluding to faceless fear and greedy exploitation of innocents, the swaggering "Antichrist Television Blues" targets a society often overcome by sensationalism and hysteria. Rumor has it that the original title of the song was "Joe Simpson", a reference to Joe Truett Simpson's monetization of his daughters Ashley and Jessica Simpson. In a similar criticism of American culture, "Windowsill" is a subtle march of guitar and drums over which Win protests "I don't wanna fight in the holy war... I don't wanna live in America no more". The atmosphere builds tension, until violins, trumpets, and a choir combine for a powerful resolution. On the strangely triumphant "Intervention" a pipe organ breathing reverent chords is a pronounced contrast to Win whose voice mourns the hypocrisy of organized religion especially in the United States with the refrain "Working for the church while my family dies".
Though Neon Bible has these somber moments, it leaves sufficient room for uplifting ones. Clever lyrics with political commentary are, in reality, simply a detour from the highest musical points that awaken with transcendent hope. The track "Keep The Car Running" generates such hope, starting out with sparkling strings that transform into a whimsical blur of motion. Led by the foot-stomping rhythm section, the sun-tinged song seems to recklessly careen along a windy coastline road.
With all its gradual progressions and thorough arrangements, Neon Bible lacks instant satisfaction. Most, if not all, of its songs require patience and thought to fully enjoy. They are not disconnected pop jingles to be shot into a vein yielding an intense high that is promptly over in a couple minutes. Ultimately, having the patience to comprehend the full depth of the songs is more than rewarding. Though, the album could have showcased Régine's lovely voice more prominently than it did.
Writing six paragraphs about Arcade Fire without mentioning their previous album Funeral [buy] is almost a feat of objective brilliance. However, no mention would seem an oversight. Perhaps it is simply a delusion of subjective familiarity, but a certain cherished copy of the album is begging to be removed from its sleeve. It is dying to spin out its interconnected melodies--its cries on "Laïka", its meditations on "Une Année Sans Lumière" and its call for revolution on "Rebellion (Lies)". In a contest between Funeral and Neon Bible, Funeral would prevail--more cohesion, more Régine, and more French. Simply put, if buying one of the two albums, buy Funeral. But, if possible, please do not hesitate to buy both albums, prime examples of artistic rock that is not so self-obsessed that is forgets to to be personable.
Fire is one of the fundamental physical elements. In legend, it was cleverly stolen by Prometheus from the gods and given to mankind who yearned to have access to fire's tremendous power. Its fearsome potential to both destroy and create was first worshiped by mystical alchemists and later harnessed by scientific industrialists to transform the world in many ways, unfortunately often manifested by the uniquely-human characteristic to destroy. But even in destruction, fire can be an inspiration. Whoever or whatever started a fire in an arcade somewhere deserves the gratitude of the music world for inspiring the name of the band Arcade Fire. Like Prometheus before them, the band members of Arcade Fire, led by husband and wife team Win Butler and Régine Chassagne, channel the fire of the gods to forge ingenious compositions they generously bestow upon humanity.
Of late, humanity, especially in the UK and North America, seems to be eagerly receiving Arcade Fire, for their live shows are selling out minutes after tickets go on sale. Seeing such success for a band made famous solely by word-of-mouth, many are simplistically labeling Arcade Fire as a recent "underground phenomenon" and drawing glib comparisons between them and bands such as Joy Division, Roxy Music and Neutral Milk Hotel. But these left-brained attempts to categorize them by their musical influences, analyze their tonal dynamics or quantify their diverse instrumental capability fall incredibly short of describing the magic that is contained within their music. Dispensing with distracting facts, one must experience their immersive music first-hand and allow the soul to be overcome by the complex range of emotion the music creates.
Neon Bible, Arcade Fire's second and latest full-length release, is awash with such expressive feeling. The predominant mood is a sincere thoughtfulness that sometimes glows with hope and sometimes broods in sorrow. The front album artwork appropriately captures the essence of this mood with its bright neon lights forming the outline of a book in a starkly contrast to a dark backdrop. Perhaps the dark backdrop is the more comforting of the two. "No Cars Go", a song re-recorded from Arcade Fire's 2003 EP Us Kids Know, as the title suggests, evokes a serenity that shuts out the clamor of modern civilization. The song lulls the listener to sleep, an escape from garish light pollution and shoving crowds to the dreamworld with its gentle darkness.
Amid the crooning lullabies and soaring chorals, Neon Bible manages to tastefully interweave pointed social criticisms. Alluding to faceless fear and greedy exploitation of innocents, the swaggering "Antichrist Television Blues" targets a society often overcome by sensationalism and hysteria. Rumor has it that the original title of the song was "Joe Simpson", a reference to Joe Truett Simpson's monetization of his daughters Ashley and Jessica Simpson. In a similar criticism of American culture, "Windowsill" is a subtle march of guitar and drums over which Win protests "I don't wanna fight in the holy war... I don't wanna live in America no more". The atmosphere builds tension, until violins, trumpets, and a choir combine for a powerful resolution. On the strangely triumphant "Intervention" a pipe organ breathing reverent chords is a pronounced contrast to Win whose voice mourns the hypocrisy of organized religion especially in the United States with the refrain "Working for the church while my family dies".
Though Neon Bible has these somber moments, it leaves sufficient room for uplifting ones. Clever lyrics with political commentary are, in reality, simply a detour from the highest musical points that awaken with transcendent hope. The track "Keep The Car Running" generates such hope, starting out with sparkling strings that transform into a whimsical blur of motion. Led by the foot-stomping rhythm section, the sun-tinged song seems to recklessly careen along a windy coastline road.
With all its gradual progressions and thorough arrangements, Neon Bible lacks instant satisfaction. Most, if not all, of its songs require patience and thought to fully enjoy. They are not disconnected pop jingles to be shot into a vein yielding an intense high that is promptly over in a couple minutes. Ultimately, having the patience to comprehend the full depth of the songs is more than rewarding. Though, the album could have showcased Régine's lovely voice more prominently than it did.
Writing six paragraphs about Arcade Fire without mentioning their previous album Funeral [buy] is almost a feat of objective brilliance. However, no mention would seem an oversight. Perhaps it is simply a delusion of subjective familiarity, but a certain cherished copy of the album is begging to be removed from its sleeve. It is dying to spin out its interconnected melodies--its cries on "Laïka", its meditations on "Une Année Sans Lumière" and its call for revolution on "Rebellion (Lies)". In a contest between Funeral and Neon Bible, Funeral would prevail--more cohesion, more Régine, and more French. Simply put, if buying one of the two albums, buy Funeral. But, if possible, please do not hesitate to buy both albums, prime examples of artistic rock that is not so self-obsessed that is forgets to to be personable.
Labels: arcade fire, music, reviews
posted by David Mc at
9:11 PM
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