Some Songs Considered

“In the Backseat” – Arcade Fire
(Words/music: Arcade Fire, available on Funeral, Merge Records 2004) 

Right now, I have minimal expectations for the Arcade Fire’s forthcoming album The Suburbs.  I’ve thought so little about their album that I was startled to realize earlier today that it comes out in roughly two weeks and that I will see them close out Lollapalooza the following weekend.  This isn’t apathy – their two previous albums rank among my personal favorites – but this is something new.  When Neon Bible leaked, I scoured with a singular focus.  Today, I barely blinked at song clips posted online. 

This general patience somewhat ironically comes from those fanatic listening binges, particularly the hours spent with Funeral.  Without over-generalizing, I end up cycling through favorite songs on many of my favorite albums.  It begins with the first couple tracks I hear – either singles or ones someone dropped on a mix or whatever – that feel familiar before the album’s first spin.  Then there are the immediately grabbing songs.  These are the ones that work in every setting – in the context of the album’s sequencing, in random, isolated iTunes double-clicks, and in those frantic, volume escalating moments in the car to name a few.  Then, over time, the other songs on the album creep up one by one and seize attention.  Sometimes it takes hearing an alternate version or a live performance, while other times it takes hearing a lyric differently or an instrument leaping out of the mix unexpectedly.  Sometimes, it’s unexplainable. 

Both of Régine Chassagne’s lead songs on Funeral earned this belated affection, but “In the Backseat” fits this description perfectly.  Tucked away at the end of the album with many sonic and emotional peaks and valleys, “In the Backseat” rarely got my full attention.  Listening with less than engaged ears, the quiet beginning and even volume to Chassagne’s voice slipped past me.  It was only the day that, for whatever reason, I keyed in on the lyrics that the song clicked.  The lines “my family tree’s / losing all its leaves” gripped me, but it was Chassagne’s voice – the beautifully crystallized and generally even foil to her husband’s gruff and theatrical vocals -  that floored me.  Her voice throughout the song quivers yet never buckles whether backed sparsely or engulfed in the swelling sound around her.  To call it the peak of the album might be unfair (or, at the very least, a matter of opinion), but its delivery crept up on a way that I’ll never completely shake.

More on Arcade Fire: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“Ocean of Noise” – Calexico
(Words/music: Arcade Fire, available on Arcade Fire’s “Intervention” 7”, Merge Records 2007)

For all of the waves that the Arcade Fire’s Funeral made in the year after its release, I’ve seen Neon Bible in many ways as an equally impressive feat.  Expectations were through the roof for their second album, and the band delivered.  Where Funeral soared with its heart on its sleeve, Neon Bible took the same grandeur and turned it inward, finding a more complex and frightening range of emotions.  “Ocean of Noise” embodies this shift, as Win Butler’s protagonist recognizes his inner struggles, acknowledges the lies he tells himself, and fears what he’s truly capable of at the end.  He resolves to “work it out” himself because he knows that time alone won’t heal his wounds.  If Funeral cataloged a series of tragedies happening around the band, Neon Bible addressed the toll these events took on the individual.

“Ocean of Noise” also marks a more subdued moment in the Arcade Fire’s songbook.  “Intervention” might be the epic centerpiece of the album, but “Ocean of Noise” builds in a gracefully reserved manner.  There’s still a build to a climax, but it’s gradual and understated with Butler sharing the spotlight with the strings and horns.  While other Arcade Fire songs demand attention, “Ocean of Noise” earns it by building on its own terms.  Calexico’s cover from the “Intervention” single drives home the song’s arrangement (members of Calexico played on the Arcade Fire’s version as well).  Their version gives it a smoother feel and plays to the band’s strengths in their horn section.  Calexico’s subdued version pays tribute to the original and underscores the band’s growth as songwriters.  They’re not exactly going soft, but Calexico show how the Arcade Fire expanded their palette.  Ironically, it took having someone else play one of their most personal and intimate songs for it to come across completely.

More on Calexico: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“Wake Up (live in the crowd at Judson Memorial Church, New York 2/16/2007)” – Arcade Fire
(Words/music: Arcade Fire, original version available on Funeral, Merge Records 2004)

First, there’s no way that a live MP3 can capture this performance properly.  I didn’t see the Arcade Fire at the Judson shows and when I saw them later on in the Neon Bible tour they did not play “Wake Up” at all, let alone in the crowd.  Still, the other time I saw them, Arcade Fire paraded out through the crowd chanting the end of “In the Backseat,” so I can imagine what this was like.  That being said, I love the way that this sounds – the recording makes the drums, horns, and mandolin audible along with the crowd singing in unison.  Thankfully, the recording captures the audience as a group rather than one or two individuals (save for a little chatter right at the beginning that mercifully ends).  It’s pretty cool that the band immersed itself in the crowd to perform the song, and the recording preserves that sense.

It’s also appropriate because “Wake Up” is the song that turned a lot of people (myself included) on to the Arcade Fire.  Sure, the soaring strings and Win Butler’s straining vocals made it sound larger than life, but I imagine the song’s lyrics drew just as many people in as well.  On an album borne out of the loss of several family members, “Wake Up” confronts the death of innocence as we grow up, and as the innocence wears away, we expose ourselves to the harsh realities of the world.  When we’re young (or feeling youthful, at least), we feel the way that “Wake Up” sounds – grand, wide-eyed, and ready to do battle.  It’s the adjustment that kills us – learning that we aren’t as invincible as we feel, stepping back and taking stock of life.  The musical transition from the broad processional feel of the first three quarters of the song to the more subdued final stretch underscores the lyrical theme – just as Butler declares that he’ll have to adjust, his band shifts into a double-time shuffle with softly sung vocals rather than the throaty screams in the first half. 

However, rather than seem mournful over lost youth, “Wake Up” celebrates the part of youth that stays with us as we get older.  Even as we grow larger and endure life’s hardships, we still have those moments where we reconnect with the part of ourselves that make us feel like we’re the gods of our world ready to hurl bolts of lightning at will.  The moment at Judson, I can imagine, was one of these “lightning bolt” moments where people felt the youthful rush of being part of a flawless moment.  This is probably also the same reason that “Wake Up’s” inclusion in the trailer for Spike Jonze’s adaptation of Where the Wild Things Are resonated with so many people over the past few days.  This is the power of songs – songs let us reach down inside ourselves, reconnect with our personal past, and even if only for a fleeting moment, let youth’s lightning strike twice.

More on Arcade Fire: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm