Published on Dec 23, 2005
Montreal’s The Arcade Fire suffered through the loss
of two grandparents and an aunt while recording their debut album,
Funeral. In all, the band dedicated the album to the memory
of nine people. Yet with a roster of 15 and its founders a husband
and wife couple (Win Butler and Regine Chassagne), The Arcade Fire
are able to balance epic arrangements with lyrics that are as
intimate as a family album.
Circumstances thrust The Arcade Fire onto the music
scene. Critics latched onto the fact the band recorded
Funeral in the midst of intense loss as well as their
obscure choices of instruments (turn up those harps, violas,
xylophones and recorders!). Less than two years after the band
formed (and a little more than six months since Funeral was
released), the band landed on the cover of Time magazine
(the Canadian edition) — an amazing feat for a debut album. But
circumstances hardly explain the wallop that Funeral
provides.
Even without the antiquated-looking album cover and
the old-fashioned liner notes (which looks like a funeral program),
Funeral sounds like an album that could have been recorded
in the early ’40s. The stabbing violin crashes of “Neighborhood #2
(Laika)” sound like a product of World War II-era experimental
jazz. Other instrumentation, such as accordions and Richard Reed
Perry’s work with the Rickenbacker, create a musty feel to the
album, akin to sneaking into an attic that hasn’t been touched for
years.
Of course, there is very much about Funeral
that is in the “now.” “Wake Up” fully utilizes all of the band’s
talents, but without a hint of clutter. “Neighborhood #3 (Power
Out)” flat-out rocks with a guitar riff that sounds like a car
speeding on the interstate during a massive snowstorm. And
“Rebellion (Lies)” is the one of the best “get up off your ass and
take a stand for something” songs in years.
Bridging the gap between old instrumentation and new,
disjointed song structures are some very personable and affecting
lyrics. If you despise the emo movement or immediately write off
skinny, wiry-haired guitarists as ‘indie,’ you will most likely put
up a few walls when you’re giving Funeral a spin. If you are
not a fan of this type of music, you will probably not enjoy the
literary imagery that floods Funeral. Digging through hills
of snow to get to loved ones. Covering and burying love, secrets
and suppressed feelings are spread out like ashes thrown from an
urn. You’re either going to succumb to this heartfelt sentiment or
be a cynic and dismiss Win Butler’s off-key yelps.
However, I defy anyone to get at least partially
swept up in the building drama the waltzy “Crown of Love.” The song
builds slowly, with smooth, controlled strings circling Butler’s
mournful chorus of “If you still want me, please forgive me.”
However, the song takes a quick, stomping turn and works up a
frenzy. Suddenly, the organs enter with a fever of a church pump
organ and Butler’s barely-contained voice unleashes the final line
“You gotta be the one, you gotta be the way / your name is the only
word that I can say!” — well… you’re either Butler or
you’re against him at that moment of emotional nakedness.
The Arcade Fire will have a difficult time following
up Funeral. You certainly don’t want the band to experience
any more loss for Funeral II. The album constantly reveals
itself upon each new listen, but any music released by them after
this album runs the risk of them trying to duplicate the success of
Funeral. That’s the problem with creating a debut album as amazing
as Funeral — the album now casts a large shadow for the
band, much what In The Aeroplane Over the Sea did for
labelmates Neutral Milk Hotel. Still, most bands would kill to have
that sort of challenge to overcome.