Reflektor - Arcade Fire
Arcade Fire’s last album, “The Suburbs,” was a wild success among fans and critics who celebrated the music’s huge arrangements, complex song structures and lyrics that attempted to speak for a generation.
Most of “Suburb’s” hit singles – “We Used to Wait,” “Modern Man,” “Sprawl II” – all straddle the line between moral, observant songwriting and prepackaged fortune-cookie-type advice. “Modern Man” doesn’t add much to the caricature of the successful yet emotionally empty man (see John Updike, Mad Men, etc). “We Used to Wait” complains that modern life moves too fast, the kind of advice packaged in fortune cookies and the morals of animated movies. The specific setting and personal details (“In the suburbs I learned to drive / And you said we’d never survive”) give “Modern Man” and “We Used to Wait” the texture of reality, situating the old tropes in real memories. It was just abstract enough to connect to the specific memories of a large group of people.
The music, too, sometimes seemed a step away from empty floweryness. While “Suburb’s” singles all boasted catchy choruses, Arcade Fire’s weaker songs put production before songwriting. While the big, textured instrumentals are fun to listen to, there’s not a lot of movement or development in songs like “Sprawl I” or “Half Light I”.
“Reflektor,” the band’s most ambitious project to date, swings for the epic, bringing the most grandiose arrangements and abstract lyrics ever. On “Reflektor,” there is no middle ground: the songs either take us on exhilarating roller coaster rides or feel belabored, overstuffed with bells and whistles; the bold, abstract lyrics can be cringe-worthy or terk-jerking.
While previous albums stuck to shoegaze, pop and indie rock, “Reflektor” transfers Arcade Fire’s usual formula to disco, dubstep, and other dance-able music. No longer confined to the verse-chorus development of more conventional indie rock, Arcade Fire indulges in more free-flowing, expansive songwriting that recalls LCD Soundsystem; most songs clock in at around 7 or 8 minutes.
On “Reflektor’s” dance oriented first disk, only “Normal Person,” “Here Come the Night Time,” and the title track achieve the seemingly effortless development of songs by LCD Soundsystem or Daft Punk. “Here Comes the Night Time’s” staccato beat never lets up as the song transitions to a layered, chaotic chorus; even the introduction of horns blaring feels like a natural part of the journey. “Normal Person” rocks the hardest, layering yelping guitars, a heavy baseline, and a tinkling piano. The song smoothly builds and releases, sounding like a more manic version of “North American Scum” by LCD Soundsystem – Win even spits out his words like James Murphy.
“Joan Of Arc” and “You Already Know” crowd an assortment of grand, dance-oriented sounds into disappointingly standard dance pop structures. “You Already Know” sounds like bad 50s pop, endlessly repeating a catchy chord progression. “Joan of Arc” awkwardly combines an anthemic chorus and a compellingly heavy baseline; the sounds are awesome, the transition forced.
Unlike “The Suburbs’ ” more clichéd tracks, “Reflektor” provides no personal context to disguise the melodramatic lyrics. While “The Suburbs” had a particular setting to ground all the abstractions, “Reflektor” is all emotion and no specifics. Many songs’ simple rhyme scheme don’t do the corniness any favors: “Please don’t stop wondering why you feel so bad / Please stop wondering why you feel so sad / You already know,” Win Bulter croons on “You Already Know.”
Fortunately, the album’s second half drastically approves on the first, returning to the more subdued, melodic arrangements suited to indie rock. “Awful Sound (Oh Eurydice)” and “It’s Never Over (Hey Orpheus),” build urgency with each variation and repetition. Instead of forcing melodrama, the song naturally develops, following the lyrics’ path from desperation (“It’s an awful sound”) to determined hope (“It’s never over”). As Butler sings “Seems like a big deal now / but you will get over / It’s never over,” a rhythmic drumbeat swells in the background like conviction. “Afterlife” sounds like a highlight off “Neon Bible,” delivering a verse that seethes with emotion - “After all the hangers on stop hanging on/in the dead light of the afterglow,” Butler sings - that transitions directly into one of Arcade Fire’s most cathartic pop choruses.
While “Reflektor” explores new genres and styles, with mixed success, “Afterlife” shows Arcade Fire’s genius still lies in constructing satisfying indie-flavored pop rock. Arcade Fire’s still an indie rock band, not likely to replace Daft Punk anytime soon.
Most of “Suburb’s” hit singles – “We Used to Wait,” “Modern Man,” “Sprawl II” – all straddle the line between moral, observant songwriting and prepackaged fortune-cookie-type advice. “Modern Man” doesn’t add much to the caricature of the successful yet emotionally empty man (see John Updike, Mad Men, etc). “We Used to Wait” complains that modern life moves too fast, the kind of advice packaged in fortune cookies and the morals of animated movies. The specific setting and personal details (“In the suburbs I learned to drive / And you said we’d never survive”) give “Modern Man” and “We Used to Wait” the texture of reality, situating the old tropes in real memories. It was just abstract enough to connect to the specific memories of a large group of people.
The music, too, sometimes seemed a step away from empty floweryness. While “Suburb’s” singles all boasted catchy choruses, Arcade Fire’s weaker songs put production before songwriting. While the big, textured instrumentals are fun to listen to, there’s not a lot of movement or development in songs like “Sprawl I” or “Half Light I”.
“Reflektor,” the band’s most ambitious project to date, swings for the epic, bringing the most grandiose arrangements and abstract lyrics ever. On “Reflektor,” there is no middle ground: the songs either take us on exhilarating roller coaster rides or feel belabored, overstuffed with bells and whistles; the bold, abstract lyrics can be cringe-worthy or terk-jerking.
While previous albums stuck to shoegaze, pop and indie rock, “Reflektor” transfers Arcade Fire’s usual formula to disco, dubstep, and other dance-able music. No longer confined to the verse-chorus development of more conventional indie rock, Arcade Fire indulges in more free-flowing, expansive songwriting that recalls LCD Soundsystem; most songs clock in at around 7 or 8 minutes.
On “Reflektor’s” dance oriented first disk, only “Normal Person,” “Here Come the Night Time,” and the title track achieve the seemingly effortless development of songs by LCD Soundsystem or Daft Punk. “Here Comes the Night Time’s” staccato beat never lets up as the song transitions to a layered, chaotic chorus; even the introduction of horns blaring feels like a natural part of the journey. “Normal Person” rocks the hardest, layering yelping guitars, a heavy baseline, and a tinkling piano. The song smoothly builds and releases, sounding like a more manic version of “North American Scum” by LCD Soundsystem – Win even spits out his words like James Murphy.
“Joan Of Arc” and “You Already Know” crowd an assortment of grand, dance-oriented sounds into disappointingly standard dance pop structures. “You Already Know” sounds like bad 50s pop, endlessly repeating a catchy chord progression. “Joan of Arc” awkwardly combines an anthemic chorus and a compellingly heavy baseline; the sounds are awesome, the transition forced.
Unlike “The Suburbs’ ” more clichéd tracks, “Reflektor” provides no personal context to disguise the melodramatic lyrics. While “The Suburbs” had a particular setting to ground all the abstractions, “Reflektor” is all emotion and no specifics. Many songs’ simple rhyme scheme don’t do the corniness any favors: “Please don’t stop wondering why you feel so bad / Please stop wondering why you feel so sad / You already know,” Win Bulter croons on “You Already Know.”
Fortunately, the album’s second half drastically approves on the first, returning to the more subdued, melodic arrangements suited to indie rock. “Awful Sound (Oh Eurydice)” and “It’s Never Over (Hey Orpheus),” build urgency with each variation and repetition. Instead of forcing melodrama, the song naturally develops, following the lyrics’ path from desperation (“It’s an awful sound”) to determined hope (“It’s never over”). As Butler sings “Seems like a big deal now / but you will get over / It’s never over,” a rhythmic drumbeat swells in the background like conviction. “Afterlife” sounds like a highlight off “Neon Bible,” delivering a verse that seethes with emotion - “After all the hangers on stop hanging on/in the dead light of the afterglow,” Butler sings - that transitions directly into one of Arcade Fire’s most cathartic pop choruses.
While “Reflektor” explores new genres and styles, with mixed success, “Afterlife” shows Arcade Fire’s genius still lies in constructing satisfying indie-flavored pop rock. Arcade Fire’s still an indie rock band, not likely to replace Daft Punk anytime soon.