All My CDs, pt 5: Funeral

I’ve been looking forward to this one since two or three CDs ago. I like it so much I took a whole week to write this review.

Funeral - The Arcade Fire

I realize that being a fan of The Arcade Fire makes me look like a hipster, but if that bothers you then rest assured that I came across this album in one of the most un-hipsterish ways possible. I first heard Wake Up in a trailer for a major motion picture. When I bought the soundtrack to that film and played it for friends, they invariably asked if that song from the trailer was on it; disappointingly, it was not, and so I bought this album. This was in fall of 2009, all of five years after the album was first released. I truly arrived late to this party, as did apparently much of the rest of the world.

“We’re just a million little gods causing rainstorms...”

Funeral is full of unlikely wonder and discordant beauty. The Arcade Fire’s musical style comes across as undisciplined and immoderate, as if a roomful of exuberant and talented children were let loose in a recording studio, but at least a few of them had the wisdom of decades to inform the subtlety and depth of the lyrics and mood. They make an art form of using too many instruments, sometimes yoking together odd combinations of sounds that traditionally belong to separate genres. The vocalists (of which there are a few) are passionate but lack the refined, "pure" sound of classically trained singers, but that sort of thing is popular nowadays. The results are surprising and, I think, delightful. This is music that doesn’t see a need to follow the rules, and this might make it hard on the ears of some listeners. I am not one of those listeners.

Without hesitation I can say that Wake Up is my favorite song on the album. I dare you to listen to that song without getting its chorus of “Aah-aah-aah”s stuck in your head. Its bittersweet mixture of moods makes you feel like your heart is breaking and healing at the same time, like a tree that continues to grow even as some of its limbs wither and its trunk is gradually hollowed by rot. One can suffer even while feeling triumphant, and vice versa. The lyrics allude to themes of childhood and growing up and the pains associated with both, but are careful not to directly say anything specific, so you’re free to imagine they’re speaking about whatever memories fill your heart at the moment.

Crown of Love is another good one, and is clearly in the top ten of my favorite break-up songs of all time, alongside Tori Amos’s Baker Baker. Neighborhood #3 (Power Out) has a fast pace and jaunty-but-dark aesthetic that makes for good dancing or workout music. Rebellion (Lies) is also catchy, but don’t pay too much attention to the lyrics if you’re prone to insomnia and in a particularly suggestible frame of mind.

Overall this is one of my favorite albums, and I’m sorry to have to put it back on the shelf. I have a lot of reviews left to get through.

Next: The Suburbs.