Arcade Fire: Neon Bible

Taking their infectious sound even deeper into the existential void they began exploring on 2004's Funeral, the prodigious French-Canadian sextet The Arcade Fire flourishes on the spirited Neon Bible. Bolstered by intricate, cathedral-sized compositions delivered with a lavishness that can only be sincere, the group turns leader Win Butler's miasmal narratives into defiant paeans to the illusory virtues of Americana and the worship of its major tenets like television, cars, fame and redemption. By and large, the album generates a sense of being whisked away from familiar surroundings and jettisoned on the outskirts of some foreign metropolis. "Black Mirror" establishes both mood and momentum from the jump, and should also pacify any skeptical return listeners from Funeral, as it appropriately enough resembles nothing so much as a twisted inversion of that album's standout "Rebellion (Lies)." "Keep the Car Running" has enough enthusiasm for a southern tent revival, but the mood reverses dramatically due to the foreboding title track's hushed harmonies and minimal instrumentation.

"Intervention" is underscored by a droning pipe organ that, rather than being pretentious, propels it to nearly anthemic altitudes. Sparked by the Siouxsie Sioux-esque wail possessed by Regine Chassange, the bilingual suite "Black Wave/Bad Vibrations" perfectly serves its function as the linchpin joining the album's first and second halves. The tension begins to build again with the misleadingly titled "Ocean of Noise" (which is instead a splendidly cinematic ballad) until cresting with the taut new-wave surge of the album's triumphant climax "No Cars Go."

Planted firmly between those two songs is the Springsteen-inspired "Antichrist Television Blues." There's no sure way to tell if Butler has empathy or disdain for the character he portrays - a pathetically desperate working-class father praying for his young daughter, of whom he says can "sing like a bird in a cage", to become what the E! Channel might call a "celebutant". "My Body is a Cage" brings down a heavy black curtain on the services, if you will, driven by a rhythm track consisting of a hollow, reverberating thump.

If there is any justice left in the music industry, Neon Bible should already be a front runner for album of the year among those still receptive to ambitious, purposeful rock n' roll. All told, Neon Bible is a wonderfully cohesive sermon from the pulpit of post-modern intellectual despair. With another superlative effort like this, we may find ourselves discussing them with the same reverence as groups like Yo La Tengo, The Flaming Lips, or Radiohead. Thanks to an approach that is pensive but mature, idealistic yet cynical, The Arcade Fire glow with an unrivaled intensity from an appreciable distance ahead of most others in search of serenity in our increasingly frenzied society.

4.5 / 5