Country: Canada
Language: English
Genre: Indie Rock
Label Number: MRG 255
© 2004 Merge Records
Fronted by the husband-and-wife team of Win Butler and Régine Chassagne,
the Arcade Fire's emotional debut -- rendered even more poignant by the
dedications to recently departed family members contained in its liner
notes -- is brave, empowering, and dusted with something that many of
the indie rock genre's more contrived acts desperately lack: an element
of real danger. Funeral's mourners -- specifically Butler and Chassagne -- inhabit the same post-apocalyptic world as London Suede's Dog Man Star;
they are broken, beaten, and ferociously romantic, reveling in the
brutal beauty of their surroundings like a heathen Adam & Eve.
"Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)," the first of four metaphorical forays into
the geography of the soul, follows a pair of young lovers who meet in
the middle of the town through tunnels that connect to their bedrooms.
Over a soaring piano lead that's effectively doubled by distorted
guitar, they reach a Lord of the Flies-tinged utopia where they can't
even remember their names or the faces of their weeping parents. Butler
sings like a lion-tamer whose whip grows shorter with each and every
lash. He can barely contain himself, and when he lets loose it's both
melodic and primal, like Berlin-era Bowie. "Neighborhood #2 (Laïka)" examines suicidal desperation through an angular Gang of Four
prism; the hypnotic wash of strings and subtle meter changes of
"Neighborhood #4 (7 Kettles)" winsomely capture the mundane doings of
day-to-day existence; and "Neighborhood #3 (Power Out)," Funeral's
victorious soul-thumping core, is a goose bump-inducing rallying cry
centered around the notion that "the power's out in the heart of man,
take it from your heart and put it in your hand." Arcade Fire are not
bereft of whimsy. "Crown of Love" is like a wedding cake dropped in slow
motion, utilizing a Johnny Mandel-style
string section and a sweet, soda-pop-stand chorus to provide solace to a
jilted lover yearning for a way back into the fold, and "Haiti" relies
on a sunny island melody to explore the complexities of Chassagne's
mercurial homeland. However, it's the sheer power and scope of cuts
like "Wake Up" -- featuring all 15 musicians singing in unison -- and
the mesmerizing, early-Roxy Music
pulse of "Rebellion (Lies)" that make Funeral the remarkable
achievement that it is. These are songs that pump blood back into the
heart as fast and furiously as it's draining from the sleeve on which it
beats, and by the time Chassagne
dissects her love of riding "In the Backseat" with the radio on,
despite her desperate fear of driving, Funeral's singular thread is
finally revealed; love does conquer all, especially love for the
cathartic power of music.
tags: arcade fire, funeral, 2004, flac,








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