When I first heard Arcade Fire's 'Funeral' back in the summer of 2004 I (like most others who struck upon this low-key classic) was instantly floored by just how fucking good it was. With it's cathartic, beautiful songs, it re-imagined a sound which had been used by bands such as Broken Social Scene and Neutral Milk Hotel but had never before been perfected. It remains to this day an album with which I can find not a single fault and ranks amongst such lofty brethren as Radiohead's 'Kid A', Miles Davis's 'In A Silent Way' and Jeff Buckley's 'Grace' as an album which (if given the chance) I would award 10's across the board to. Little did I know at the time however that it was to become such a runaway success, catapulting the band out of the indie ghetto and into a mainstream that seemed to welcome them with open arms. On that warm August afternoon 6 years ago now, this is an eventuality I deemed so unlikely as to not even give it a moments thought.
It happened though, the band eclipsed their humble beginnings and within months their influence had left it's mark on a large handful of the world fledgling indie bands. Fast forward to 2010 and after 2007's warmly received follow-up Neon Bible saw them entering the premier league the band took stock and a well needed rest before recuperating to record what might be their most accomplished album to date. It's true that The Suburbs might take a little longer to hit home than the dramatic, immediate 'Funeral' but it's certainly easier to get into than Neon Bible, both musically and lyrically. Where Funeral dealt with death and personal drama and Neon Bible dealt with epic, biblical drama, here Butler seems to have narrowed his visor somewhat into the quaint side roads of US suburbia where the drama is less but the songs are just as plentiful. The opening title track is a deceptively gentle soft-rock anthem over which front-man Win Butler opens a narration which seems to wind through the record like the suburban roads he sings of ("first they built the roads and then they built the town"). It's a subtle song which feels like a book opening and roads unfurling and when it's reprised at the albums climax in a comparative whimper the feeling of deflation is crushing, beautiful and epic.
The 5 songs which follow make up what we'll (for arguments sake) call the records 'first movement', each lasts around 3 to 4 minutes and the tempo remains largely unaltered (save for the crazy time signature shifts on 'Modern Man'), it's a run of simple, great pop songs the likes of which after Funeral you'd have thought would be beneath the band. The Beatles inflected, string drenched 'Rococo' feels a little slight but works as a breather before the cathartic 'My Bloody Valentine' meets The Cure squall of 'Empty Room' which almost sounds like a distant cousin to their own 'No Cars Go'. 'Modern Man' meanwhile recalls Tunnel Of Love era Bruce Springsteen under a bizarre, shifting time signature and Butler's most understated performance yet, here he shows he can do more with that voice than blustery melodrama. 'Half Light 1 & 2' work almost as a transition between the first and second halves of the album with the sky-gazing 1st part folding into the anthemic, synth led 2nd part, a song which joins the dots between Bowies 'Heroes' and Talking Head's 'Road To Nowhere'.
The albums centrepiece is the stunning 'Suburban War', a song which is name-checked as early on as the opening number and sits at the heart of the record like a dramatic full stop. Butler sings of teenage segregation ("music divides us into tribes") over delicate guitar licks and an insistent rhythm before the almighty chorus kicks in like a tonne of bricks. Then, just as we think we have the song figured out it soars skywards on a bed of distortion which would put Kevin Shields to shame. The familiar 'Arcade Fire' chant is here given a much darker edge, whereas the massed choir of 'Wake Up' sang of pure unadulterated joy, the voices here speak of abandonment and distance ("my old friends, they don't know me now") in the most perfect, beautiful and tortured way possible. Basically it's a masterpiece and is worth the price of admission alone.
The last section of the album changes tack once again as guitars are steadily fazed about to be replaced by glistening synths (think Depeche Mode as helmed by by The Knife) on the stunning closing 'Sprawl 2 (Mountains Beyond Mountains') which almost rivals 'Suburban War' for the spot of 'song of the year'. Before we get there though the downcast duo of 'Wasted Hours' and 'Deep Blue' suit the heart of a defeated Butler as the album starts to noticeably wind down. Usually I'd see this as a negative, surely an album should hold your attention for it's entire duration by mixing up the running order? Here though Arcade Fire have moved past any manipulative conceits and the structuring here makes perfect, thematic sense and besides the stuttering, piano based waltz of 'We Used To Wait' and the raw fury of 'Month Of May' prove more than adequate foils to the suicidal misery of 'Sprawl 1 (Flatland)' before 'Sprawl 2' brings the curtains down with a glittering, dramatic full stop.
Is it as good as 'Funeral'? No, but then very little is. Is it however the album of the year thus far? Yes my friends it most certainly is that. The Suburbs cements Arcade Fire's reputation as one of the most important bands of the century, your move Radiohead.
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