Arcade Fire - The Suburbs Review

Posted by David Hayter on 08.03.2010

After the dark and oppressive tones of Neon Bible, Win and Regine return, and this time they've set their sights on their own fans, snarky scenesters and world domination.



Arcade Fire - The Suburbs

1. "The Suburbs" 5:15
2. "Ready to Start" 4:15
3. "Modern Man" 4:40
4. "Rococo" 3:57
5. "Empty Room" 2:52
6. "City with No Children" 3:11
7. "Half Light I" 4:14
8. "Half Light II (No Celebration)" 4:27
9. "Suburban War" 4:41
10. "Month of May" 3:50
11. "Wasted Hours" 3:21
12. "Deep Blue" 4:28
13. "We Used to Wait" 5:01
14. "Sprawl I (Flatland)" 2:51
15. "Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)" 5:18
16. "The Suburbs (Continued)" 1:27

The weight of expectation can do strange things to a band. After the success of the sublime Funeral Arcade Fire returned with the dark and oppressive tones of Neon Bible. Who’s bleak and abrasive sound felt like a warning for outsiders to stay away. The albums hooks were subtly hidden beneath layers of beautifully mournful instrumentation while the album's stadium sized anthemics were held off till the last. Arcade Fire demanded their listeners preserve, and perhaps surprisingly they did, and Neon Bible made them even bigger. A mammoth world tour ensued and by its end Win Butler famously stated that he wouldn’t be doing anymore festivals. Of course fast forward to 2010 and Arcade Fire are due to return with two prominent festival headline dates and a huge Madison Square Garden show. Anticipation has reached fever pitch, but so has expectation. There is a feeling that after the depressive defeatist side step of Neon Bible it’s time for Arcade Fire to make the transition to the mainstream.

For better or worse Arcade Fire are considered “special”. Like Radiohead, when Win Butler steps into the studio people expect brilliance. It’s a tough cross to bear. While The Suburbs sales are assured, even the slightest hint of a misstep can turn adoration into ridicule. Therefore the sheer boldness of The Suburbs is refreshing. If Neon Bible was bleak and insular then the The Suburbs is a grand wide reaching gesture. Perhaps for the first time since OK Computer, The Suburbs sees a band going for broke; trying to be all things to all people and pulling it off with artistic integrity left firmly intact. The Suburbs immediately reaches out at the listener, it’s grander, poppier and more widescreen than anything Arcade Fire have attempted before. Yet this record still feels dark, brooding, and resentful. The Suburbs is undeniably ambitious, its arrangements are grand and sweeping yet subtly beautiful. It’s a record that’s fundamentally insular and intimate but that aims to be familiar to millions. It’s a brave gambit that has as many potential pitfalls as avenues for success.

Arcade Fire show their intent from the off by firing out a string of undeniably infectious and accessible singles at the listener. Quite frankly this is something they’ve never done before; fast, sharp, pop music. “The Suburbs” is a sweet charming middle class waltz, and ode to mundane suburban depression. Full of moody ironic reflection, the track is tied together by a sugary sweet chorus that is simply inescapable. It’s the type of hook that gnaws away at your brain and it serves as a wonderful contrast to the idle defeatists daydreaming of the verse.

“Ready To Start” is spring loaded with urgency. It leaps out at the listener with an epic chorus that teases you before its full power is released at the tracks conclusion. Again the verse sees Win Butler dispensing irresistible one liners at will (“All The Kids Have Always Known, That The Emperor Wears New Clothes”, “The Business Men Are Drinking My Blood, Like The Kids At Art School Said They Would”). It all builds to a wonderful emotive centerpiece;

“Now You’re Knocking At My Door,
Saying “Please Come Out With Us Tonight”,
But I Would Rather Be Alone,
Than Pretend That Everything Is All Right”

It’s a track full of bitter sentiment, as Butler appears to be turning on scenesters, the record industry and even his own fans. Yet it’s all framed around such a gloriously stirring arrangement that it matters little. It’s a touching track, that’s just opaque enough lyrically to allow the listener to find his or her own emotional solace in Butler’s words. “The Modern Man” is a pop song writing master-class with a thudding driving chorus supplanted over the bouncy infectious Cure-eske arrangement of the verse. It’s a wonderfully crafted affair, not a single note feels wasted.

The Suburbs then embarks on a tonal shift with the first of two sublime transitional tracks. “Roccoco” instantly shifts the mood as the minor chords are brought out and Win employs his deep brooding cynical voice. He unleashes a scathing attack on scenesters and music fans in general. He certainly isn’t pulling any punches; “Let’s Go Downtown And Talk To The Modern Kids, They Will Eat Right Out Of Your Hands, Using Great Big Words That They Don’t Understand”. Rarely has a band unleashed such a scathing attack on its own listeners; yet it’s all framed around a wonderful murky and swirling arrangement. You can’t help but be enchanted as the bass oscillates against stabbing swirling strings. It almost feels like a warning; “We’ve given you your fun, now it’s time for the serious stuff to begin”.

The sheer self importance might be overbearing if it didn’t usher in such a captivating run of musicianship. “City With No Children” bursts out as Win Butler’s take on a Springsteen-eske Americana anthem. Of course rather than being all embracing, it’s bleak and sardonic; “Never Trust A Millionare, Quoting The Sermon On The Mound, I Used To Think I Was Not Like Them, But I’m Starting To Have My Doubts About It”. “Half Light I & II” is the first of The Suburbs' two part epics. “...Part I” soars with a piercing arrangement while Win and Regine exchange vocal duties. Similar to Arcade Fire’s previous work, it lacks an obvious hook, but it’s the poignancy of the arrangement combined with certain key emotive lines that really brings the track to life (“You Say You Hear Children’s Voices, But They’re Only Echoes”). It’s a wonderful moving piece and it feeds into “...Part II” which picks up the momentum without losing any of the track’s resonance. Win is at his most vitriolic as he rages against stock market greed. It simultaneously continues the theme of childhood that’s prevalent across the entirety ofThe Suburbs; a sense that hope and innocence has been lost. As Win reveals that while he once saw through the eyes of a child he know sees through “Dead Men’s Eyes”.

This subdued fury all builds to the awe-inspiring “Suburban Warfare”; a ballad that moves the listener almost instantly. It’s crammed full of regret and retrospection. Thematically it recalls “The Suburbs”, “City With No Children” and “Rococo” all at once, drawing the album to an emotional thematic peak. “Suburban Warfare” captures Arcade Fire at their most stirring and emotive, and Win at his most vitriolic. He’s hurt and scornful, remembering the past with rose tinted vision while lashing out at his own fans. “The Music Divides Us Into Tribes, You Choose Your Side, I’ll Choose My Side” at that defiant moment the track erupts with the thundering bombast of percussion, strings swell and Win cries that his old friends don’t know him anymore. It’s a fantastic piece and it ties together a whole string of sounds, emotions and concepts beautifully.

“Month Of May” forms the perfectly palate cleanser after such an epic moment; a rip snorting lo-fi rocker that sees Win going to town on scenesters and music snobs. “Month Of May” is an absolute riot in the context of “The Suburbs” working to perfection. When it leaked a few months ago many fans (myself included) were perplex by it’s one dimensional nature but when immersed in The Suburbs it makes perfect sense. It almost feels like a relief, one final burst of vile energy before Win can return to charming jaunty pop. While far from innocent and naive “Wasted Hours” is an infectious pleasure. “Wasted Hours” soon gives way to “Deep Blue” an odd reflection centred on a reference to the battle between Kasparov and the chess playing computer Deep Blue. It’s a bit heavy on the melodrama but it wouldn’t be an Arcade Fire record if it didn’t take itself too seriously, even in its silliest moment.

“The Suburbs” conclusion is as scintillating as you’d expect. “We Used To Wait” feels on edge, with a tense piano line running throughout as it builds towards a tremendous crescendo. Perhaps saving the best till last, “The Sprawl” two parter, almost feels like an ironic joke. “Flatlands” is willingly over dramatic; it’s beyond epic, the strings are magnanimous and Win is almost inviting ridicule with a brazen verse. It’s so bleak and dejected it would almost feel like a parody, were it not so moving. Thankfully, any idea of Arcade Fire dissolving into super serious self indulgence is shattered by the glorious “Mountains Beyond Mountains”. Regine takes the lead on a disco studded new-wave burbler. It’s so totally unexpected, but it’s utterly undeniable. Could it possibly be anymore melodramatic? We’ve gone from digging our own grave to dancing the night away in the space of one two part epic. Perhaps the final note of an album obsessed with melancholy and bile is one of self delusion. We're stuck, it’s miserable, there’s no escape; so we might as well revel in our misery. It’s a glorious ending that slides right into a melancholic retooling of “The Suburbs”.

Low and behold they have done it. Arcade Fire have created a miserable, sardonic album that spends as much time insulting the listener as it does catering to them, and yet some how it’s utterly brilliant. More than being just the latest “great Arcade Fire offering”, The Suburbs feels like a classic in the making. It’s so epic and grandiose, so willingly overblown and affecting; it actually surpasses its own ambitions. The Suburbs is an album that can cross over. More than Funeral and certainly more than Neon Bible this is an album that willing aims for greatness. It pitches itself alongside OK Computer, Automatic For The People and Dark Side Of The Moon. It tackles big serious macabre themes; addressing them in a way that is accessible to millions and doing so without sacrificing identity or integrity. At its heart The Suburbs is an ugly, sinister and spite filled record, but it’s one that sounds beautiful, endearing and utterly irresistible. Despite the melancholy and in spite of the insults, when all is said and done The Suburbs is an absolute pleasure to listen to. One that simply gets better with each and every passing listen.

The 411: The Suburbs is a real joy to listen to. The arrangements are consistently beautiful, remarkably stirring and incredibly emotive. It's a record of peaks and valleys; swelling to thrilling highs and dipping to dark emotive lows. Win Butler appears to have struck upon a rich reign of form; offering up not just bleak introspection and vile vitriol but grand infectious hooks as well. The Suburbs is an incredibly ambitious record, and as a result it feels less focused than Funeral, but what it loses in subtly it gains in grandeur. The 21st Century has seen a glut of great records and brilliant artistry, but it's has given us few releases that feel truly monumental. That is until now, because The Suburbs feels monumental; it's huge, sweeping, powerful, grand and it's all the better for it. Whether it can cross over in the way that OK Computer did remains to be seen, but this is an important release from one of the best bands on the planet. A(nother) Masterpiece.

Final Score:  10.0   [ Virtually Perfect ]