THE BLANK GENERATION

My girlfriend has fled for a week to visit friends and family in hilly PeeAy (as the Pennsylvania folks call it), leaving me and the needy black cat (currently in my lap) to fend for ourselves. So, I spent the past few days doing what any good-natured bachelor might do…eat popcorn for a meal, enjoy a rock and roll concert or two, forget to bathe and sleep in even later. But, alas, I’m bored. And boredom leads to reflection and reflection leads to guilt and guilt leads to depression. I’m afraid I’m horrible at distracting myself or passing the time. Sure, I could re-alphabetize my records (K-Z are in dire need). I could probably call up some friends and head to Mike & Molly’s to drink beer under the stars. Or, I could keep doing what I’m already doing. But, to be honest, I’m tired of watching my St. Louis Redbirds stumble to the regular season’s conclusion. And my attempt at watching season one of The Office is in a funk. It’s not the show’s fault; it’s simply hilarious. The characters are wonderful caricatures of people we’ve all worked with, kind of like a gutsier analysis of the shallow characters in Office Space. And the situations—from disciplining office pranksters to downsizing—are brutal in their accuracy. (Office Space gave us Milton and his red Swingline stapler. Meanwhile, The Office presents a different but equally hilarious take on those co-workers who take great pride in their prized tools of the trade. Here, we have a pair of polar-opposite desk mates, one a kidder and the other an all-too-serious middle manager. In this scenario, the witty one seals the somber one’s stapler in a Jell-o mold.) The problem is, my workplace recently downsized itself, and although I was spared I’m still not far enough removed from the situation to have a sense of humor about the selfish, incompetent decisions that are made at a time of reduction.

So, on to a more cheery subject…let’s talk about funerals. More specifically, The Arcade Fire’s debut full-length Funeral, released a couple week’s ago on Merge Records.


 

Apparently, the Montreal band signed to Merge after a bidding war among the nation’s super-Indies. (One would presume Sub Pop, Matador and Touch and Go were in the mix.) Seeing as the Canadian music scene has blown up recently on the indie level (Broken Social Scene, Stars, The New Pornographers, The Unicorns, Hot Hot Heat, Do Make Say Think, etc.), it’s no surprise that any Canuck capable of carrying a tune is going to get a look-see from the US of A. I mean, with the Patriot Act killing all creativity south of the Canadian border, American indies have been forced to look elsewhere for the next bright star. Joking aside, all this is a way of saying that after working as a music journalist for the past two-and-a-half years I’m weary and wary when it comes to hype. That’s not to say that a good deal of the healthy heaping of hype that is served isn’t deserved, but seriously…does anyone really think that The Fiery Furnance's Blueberry Boat is the second-coming of Tommy? And christ, do we really need a second-coming of Tommy in the first place?

But, like the good little consumer I am, I went to the record store and purchased Funeral after hearing wonderful comments about this lovely indie rock band from the Great White North which features a married couple and a pair of brothers (“family bands” seem to be the flavor of the year). And fuckin’ eh, wouldn’t you know it? The media was right. These Canucks do rock the party.

As you could probably guess, Funeral supposedly comes on the heels of the most pricey of inspiration—death. (Three of ‘em to be precise.) Who knows if The Arcade Fire, in their heart of hearts, is truly a gloomy bunch? What is certain is that Funeral is a restless, introspective album that deals a heavy dose of humility. While the record does, to a small degree, wrestle with death, it spends far more time tackling the awkward life issues of discovery, uncertainty, and confusion. Ultimately, it’s an album full of yearning, which done right can make for an endearing listen. And endearing is the best descriptive I could offer you to sum up The Arcade Fire in a word.

At their core The Arcade Fire are a simple, straightforward band: see the mellow textures of Yo La Tengo coupled with the playful indie pop of Broken Social Scene. Yet their sound has a healthy holistic glow, thanks in no small part to the lacquer they spread so thick in the form of synthesizer, accordion, xylophone, organ, violin, viola and cello. For locals, I’ll use a reference point that might strike a chord: imagine Murder By Death, minus most of the dreary pretense and grounded in more secular subject matters. Ultimately, The Arcade Fire possesses a delicacy that exposes their true nature. These guys (and girls) are interested in growth and healing. They bring to mind the old cliché of the musician that just has to write songs, whether it's for an audience of one or one thousand. Creating music is cathartic. It’s a coping mechanism. Sure, that might seem easy to surmise considering the album is called Funeral, but as I said before a good deal of the record deals with an entirely different subject. (And digging a little deeper, the group’s press release reveals that most of these songs were written and recorded prior to two of the three deaths.) It’s almost unfortunate that the band and the label have chosen to market the album under that pretense, because it’s misleading consumers into thinking that this is an album that only questions instead of reaffirms. Writing an album about death is in many ways far easier than writing an album about life. And this album is about life. Whereas death is concrete, life is fluid. Death may be a sobering experience to those who are left to grieve, but life is no less abusive or gripping to those who are left to live. To me, at least, life is just plain bewildering and devoid of any certainty. And that makes it far more difficult to put into words, emotions and music just what a captivating freefall life can be.

But enough of the soapbox philosophy. I’m going to once again be reprimanded by the blog gods for rambling for 1,000 words in a single entry. My point in all of this is simple: The Arcade Fire have released a stellar debut which you should purchase if only to hear the splendid melancholy of “Wake Up,” one of the year’s best songs and worth every penny you’ll drop on this disc. Sound samples can be searched out here and newsy stuff can be had here. They're on tour now, and Champaign-Urbana folks can catch them at The Highdive on Sunday, Nov. 21. Enjoy.

This entry was posted on Sunday, October 3 at 3:56 PM.

4 Comments:

You know, I thought I was the only one who didn't understand why Blueberry Boat got the attention that it did. I thought their first album was fun, but the sophmore release was pretty disapointing. On a side note, I just got back from seeing Yo La Tengo at Wash. U. in St. Louis. It was interesting because when they got up on stage they had 3-5 more people play with them. David Kilgour (The Clean), Doug McCombs (Tortoise), and Todd Barry (Comedian?) all played with them. There were a couple of more people, but as of right now I can't remember who. It was rather nice though to see them in such a small venue.

By  Anonymous, at 2:11 AM  

Yo La with guests, eh? Interesting. The last couple times I've seen them I was disappointed, but that's mostly because I miss the rocking Yo La versus the more subdued, textured Yo La of late. What was their set like? New stuff, old stuff? Did the guests actually add much of anything?

By  thenoiseboy, at 9:09 AM  

Well, we stayed for 2 hours of the show and they weren't showing any signs of slowing down at that point. They opened up with a 10 minute wall of distortion which had Ira swinging his guitar wildly creating some nice sounds. They played a few pretty rocking covers, a few off of I Can Hear, and a couple off of the new album. When they did play the newer songs though, they were a lot different than the album versions. For example, Today is the Day was more like the version off of the EP they put out of the same name. They did play Big Day Coming, The Whole of the Law, and then a few David Kilgour songs inbetween. At one point (I assume the middle of the show), the comedian (who was playing the tamoborine) came out and did a comedy act for about 15 minutes. He was pretty decent and poked some fun at a few bands. Anyway, we left early because of the 3 hour drive we had infront of us and 2 hours of a show made me feel like I got my $6.00 worth.

By  Anonymous, at 11:34 PM  

I was studying Funeral pretty hard last week. I call it a work of art without hesitation, pop music designed to be expressive, not disposable. They're so clever, the subtle touches they add with their instruments. I may be reading too much into the final track -- and it seems everyone that tries to explain one of their songs says more about themselves than what the Arcade Fire meant -- but Funeral is about the end of their childhood and innocence, and what remains is the rest of their lives. Not that it could have been that much innocence; if their songs are the least bit honest, and they come off really sincere, they had some interestingly fucked-up childhoods.

Speaking of Blueberry Boat, I recently picked it up just before Christmas. (I had been doing Three Months Without Music, haphazardly.) The first time I was listening in the car, at a low volume, and I feared I hated it. The second time was more enjoyable, and I might have logged four listens, but so far I find Gallowsbird's Bark to be much better. I need to pay closer attention to lyrics -- usually it takes me 10 listens before anything sinks in -- but musically it seems they haven't added much except for some awkwardness. Maybe the joke's on us.

Arun

By  Anonymous, at 1:51 AM  

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