Music: The Arcade Fire - The Neon Bible

The Arcade Fire
The Neon Bible
[Rock]






Before getting into a review of The Neon Bible - The Arcade Fire’s second, epic, multi-instrumental showpiece - I ought to get something off my chest. Alternative and mainstream musicians alike have been relentlessly fetishizing the Iraq war for over four years now, ceaselessly bombarding us with details of how much they hate Bush and why the war is wrong, more often than not with toe-curling clumsiness. A quick glance at the lyrics on The Neon Bible suggests this trend is set to continue, with choice snippets including:

“Mirror, mirror on the wall / Show me where the bombs will fall”

“You’re still a soldier in your mind / Though nothing’s on the line”

“Working for the church while your life falls apart”

“Hear the soldier groan / We’ll go at it alone”

“Now the war is won / How come nothing tastes good?”

“Don’t wanna fight in a holy war / I don’t wanna live in America no more”

Don’t get me wrong, I’m more than happy with fuzzy Oberstian metaphors (see below), but preaching this heavy-handed is, quite frankly, rather off-putting. Whereas The Arcade Fire’s majestic debut Funeral focused mainly on human relationships and was underscored with some heart-wrenching arrangements, here Iraq - so often the reserve of the floundering lyricist - is the dominant theme.

It is also no surprise to learn, then, that some of the most successful songs on the mostly successful The Neon Bible hark back to older days. Live favourite ‘No Cars Go’ has been hanging around for some time now and, rather than lingering like a bad smell, the aura of Funeral gives it a definite sweetness. You know the score - drums, accordions, strings and trumpets swim together effortlessly as Win Butler and Régine Chassagne lay down their manifesto with dizzied yelps: “We know a place where no cars go / Between the click of the light and the start of the dream…women and children, let’s go!” Its six minutes manage to recapture the relentless momentum of ‘Rebellion (Lies)’ and ‘Power Out’ with the closing, choral-backed instrumental burst being particularly impressive.

Also recalling past glories is the first ninety seconds of two-part blockbuster ‘Black Wave / Bad Vibrations’, an irresistibly charming, bi-lingual, percussion- and voice-led shimmer awash with the childlike enthusiasm of Régine and Sarah Neufield. “We’ll make it if we run / Run from the memory / Je nage, mais les sonts me suivent” they sing, shedding light on the other recurring theme of the record: water.

For some reason or another, very possibly climate change (the new Iraq?), The Arcade Fire are obsessed with the seas, swimming, drowning, being submerged and other water-related peculiarities on The Neon Bible. It is certainly a commendable fixation, arguably best explored on the apocalyptic ‘Windowsill’. A Kaczynskian denouncement of recent human ‘advances’, it defiantly resists the urge to comply while a sinister, plucked guitar dangles menacingly: “Don’t want it faster, I don’t want it free…Don’t wanna give ‘em my name and address / Don’t wanna see what happens next…’Cause the tide is high and it’s rising still”. After a couple of combustible minutes the song finally surfaces as strings come in, the voices get a bit shakier and crescendos abound, all while the line “Don’t wanna see it at my windowsill” is wailed by every member of the septet for a considerable duration. Gloomy stuff, non?

More of the see-through stuff comes in the baroque thump of lead single ‘Black Mirror’ (“I walked down to the ocean / After waking from a nightmare”), the guitar-heavy ‘The Well and the Lighthouse’ (“So down I fell into the water black”), the brooding whisper that is ‘Ocean of Noise’ (“In an ocean of noise / I first heard your voice”) and the more up-tempo, poppy number ‘Keep the Car Running’ (Can’t swim across a river so deep”). While never becoming dull, the over-reliance on the water theme does draw attention to some fleeting references to the band’s more interesting politics. Even though I disagree with both of the bands other messages - abortion is indefensible (“Now who here among us still believes in choice? Not I”, “Why did I take the pill?”), the state should get lost (“Shot by a security camera”, the name and address reference in ‘Windowsill’) - it is encouraging to see such directness from the, Iraq aside, seemingly depoliticized mainstream indie scene.

Though the aforementioned tunes see The Arcade Fire in the steady, 8/10 mode they have seemingly mastered so easily, The Neon Bible’s two standout tracks see the band move into a different gear altogether. Essentially a hymn, fourth song ‘Intervention’ has, fittingly, music to die for. Starting with bone-chilling organ chords, strummed guitar and occasional brushes of the humble triangle, the stage is certainly set for a stunning song. After a couple of minutes drums and strings flesh it out further, before the choral shrieks of Régine and Sarah are again put to good use. It is such a great shame, then, that much of the song’s lyrical content is focussed on you-know-what. For such a spellbinding musical achievement, however, I’m willing to overlook some of the words. In any case, Win delivers them with such teary-eyed vulnerability that he could be singing about toothpaste and still be assured of shivers down spines.

The other highlight of The Neon Bible is the band’s grandiose rant against anything and everything, ‘[Antichrist Television Blues]’. Though it could be argued that the brackets aren’t exactly essential, the song itself is, bringing together everything that has so far made The Arcade Fire a household name: angelic, undulating backing vocals; Win getting angry; a toe-tapping guitar and drum progression; strings on demand; crescendos and refrains in equal, innumerable measure; unashamed Biblical overtones; someone attacking a piano. If this is The Arcade Fire by numbers, I for one will keep score.

The only obvious sour notes on The Neon Bible are the two minutes of underwhelming, plodding title track and momentum-sapping concluder ‘My Heart Is a Cage’. While the former is undoubtedly a poor song, the latter may have worked if not placed after such a tailor-made album closer in ‘No Cars Go’. As it is, I could do without it.

Aside from those two missteps, The Neon Bible is an exceptionally strong album musically. It could be better lyrically, but then that would be like asking Bob Dylan to go a bit faster or telling Beastie Boys get a bit more serious. The OK Computers, Marquee Moons and If You’re Feeling Sinisters of this world are few and far between and, while The Arcade Fire are prone to the odd ham-fisted or clichéd observation, they are first and foremost an exceptional musical outfit. For that, and perhaps that alone, we should be very grateful. 84