ARCADE FIRE - The Suburbs

Arcade Fire from Montreal prove how a band can go from being a phenomenon within the indie microcosm to playing huge stages and reaching a far wider audience. Often the real gauge, beyond sales figures (which are nonetheless pretty significant for the Canadians), is the anticipation, the hype that builds around a single about to be released, or a tour, or, as in this case, an album on the verge of coming out.

“Funeral“, the most thunderous debut of the last decade alongside the first Franz Ferdinand album, oozed an utterly singular urgency, a communicative instinct and a need for warmth that are hard to replicate. “Neon Bible” cooled those moods down, despite intense emotional peaks, settling into structures that were perhaps less immediate. Critical and commercial success has elevated Arcade Fire to a status not too far removed from the idolatry reserved for Radiohead. Proof of this is the compulsive buzzing of blogs and websites at the news of the album's leak.

It can happen, though, that the gift you unwrap isn't quite as shiny as the packaging — and the wait to receive it — would lead you to expect. And "The Suburbs", the collective's third effort, is tangible proof of that. Let's be clear right away: it's not a bad record, but it breaks the impact of its hits (and there are several) on the rocks of excessive length and a certain general sense of disorientation.

While both the debut and "Neon Bible" had a compact mood, "The Suburbs" unravels its tracks from a collective project, presenting them as single episodes disconnected from one another. Frontman Butler's strength, however, lies in his ability to write beautiful songs, taut and oblique, ready to shift shape, to rise up like a wall, to break free. And here there's certainly no shortage of beautiful songs. The opening is dazzling: the initial one-two punch ("The Suburbs" and "Ready To Start") sends expectations into orbit, laying out the guidelines of the Arcade Fire sound: clipped guitars, pristine vocals, choral crescendos for sunny days.

The dispensable, somewhat predictable progress of "Modern Man" is paired with "Rococo", baroque even in its title. The fourth track, while not thrilling, offers a well-judged undulating motion that rekindles memories of the choral splendor of "Funeral".

Same credentials, with almost identical results, for the following "Empty Room", wrapped in guitars with shoegaze echoes. The pairing of "Half Light I" and "Half Light II (No Celebration)" brings the Canadian combo back to the level they belong at: the first episode, in which a moving string symphony rises crystal-clear and melancholy in its harrowing progress, warmly lights up and fades out. "Half Light II (No Celebration)" is its perfect electric mirror image.

"Suburban War" and "Month Of May" offer nothing new — the former recycled, the latter a bland little rock number (useful as a break from the grandiloquence heard so far, but nothing more). The dirge-like "Wasted Hours" and the anesthetized guitars of "Deep Blue" fail to truly capture the listener, something that "We Used To Wait" manages instead, a choral piece with a contagious, airy flow, in the wake of "No Cars Go".

The last standout moment is undoubtedly the surprising synth-J-pop flash "Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)", not far removed from the Eighties revival so in vogue these days.

"The Suburbs" is perhaps Arcade Fire's most studied album. There's restraint in everything, less gaudiness, and a focus on a distinctly pop format. The formula works well enough at certain points, but ends up growing tiresome over the long haul. Highs and lows chase each other, and the excessive running time along with some rather obvious missteps do the rest.

Once again, though, it's worth highlighting the band's remarkable ability to write pop songs like few others can.

In the end, it may well be this "The Suburbs" that finally launches them into the pantheon — but what's certain is that the immediacy, vitality and innocence of their debut remain, to this day, unmatched.

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28/07/2010