Menomena – Friend and Foe

Friend and Foe is somewhat of a marathon for the listener- It’s easy to pelt through the first few tracks, Muscle N’ Flo, The Pelican, and Wet And Rusting, and think that “this is all a bit easier than
I thought”. However, with a little pacing,the album’s subtleties begin to reveal themselves. The sinister saxophone and strange mewing in the background (I’m pretty sure they’re using kittens instead of plectrums) on “Weird” add to song texture rather than reaching a climax, or providing hooks, a recurring feature of Friend And Foe. “Running” is an interesting sideshow- a two minute long stop-start affair accompanied by strange-voiced reassurances that “we’ll make it before the cows come home”. A paean to advice rejected in the past, “My My” has music to match the reminiscent and reflective feel of the lyrical content, is the album’s second-half highlight. This album is arduous and fun in equal measures. For example, see their “La Blogotheque” performance of “Wet And Rusting. “Post-Rock” done properly.

Le Loup – The Throne Of The Third Heaven Of The Nations Millennium General

Washington DC’s Le Loup have all the hallmarks of the Next Big Thing. In their arsenal is a sound like a conglomeration of North America’s indie aristocracy (Arcade Fire, Animal Collective and Sufjan Stevens predominantly) that they yet craft it into something wholly unique, lyrics about cataclysm and destruction, and, most importantly, some seriously nifty artwork. And since when did a clunky album name and exclamation mark heavy song titles ever set anyone back?  The Throne is a hypnotic listen. For the work of a seven-piece collective the songs are decidedly sparse, revolving around a simple banjo riff around which echoing chanted vocals and some electronics circulate. The lyrics are based on Dante’s Inferno, which would be overwhelmingly pretentious were they not so affecting and knowingly grandiose. Opener Canto I is a vulnerable confession interspersed with “like”s and pauses that keep its lofty subject of personal hell grounded to earth. Le Loup: on the lips of hipsters near you soon.

Jacknife Lee – Jacknife Lee

Music producer Jacknife Lee knows how to tickle my bits. With his eponymous fourth album, he has borrowed filthy underlying sounds more akin to artists like Whitey and The Whip. Jacknife Lee seamlessly fuses a good old rock aesthetic with a contemporary electro beat. ‘What You Want’ is a pounding electro-rock song with a mission to get the Indie kids deep down and dirty while opener ‘Fear of Nothing’,proclaims the uninhibited nature of the album. With lyrics such as “filthy, surging, finger, burning” you know where this music is leading to. It may at times sound over-produced. Jacknife Lee is knicker-droppingly good with enough nasty electro sounds that would make other dance rock outfits like Justice and Digitalism seem harsh in their sound.

Grizzly Bear – Friend EP

It’s hard to get excited about an EP that consists of barely any new songs, but luckily Grizzly Bear have managed to make Friend a worthwhile prospect. Zach Condon’s much-hyped contribution to opener Alligator is imperceptible, but the song doesn’t need any extra help. The hushed harmonies and explosive crunches of percussion on this version make it the equal of anything on Yellow House. The new Little Brother takes the brave step of becoming more haunting. The shift in aesthetic brings a new focus to the lyrics, and confers a certain gravity that wasn’t there in the original. The cover of He Hit Me by The Crystals is brimming with tension, but it’s the other bands covering the Grizzlies that will attract most neutrals. CSS’s version of Knife manages to strip away all the emotion of the original, leaving a disaffected synth-rock carcass. Atlas Sound acquit themselves better with their clockwork-and-reverb version, and Band of Horses’ hillbilly Plans is just bizarre enough to work. It may seem all filler on paper, but one band’s trash is another’s gold. Grizzly Bear’s bin makes for good listening.

Efterklang – Parades

Denmark’s Masters of atmosphere return with their second album, the enlightening Parades which continues in the same musical fairytale realm where debut album Tripper left us a few years ago.
Layered to sensual perfection with abundant violins and sparse drums peppered with a few string pricks and somber voices, it is an album that drips with emotion and atmosphere but is never overwhelmed by it. One almost feels like being called to attention by the sparse, militaristic drumming on songs such as ‘Maison de Reflexion’. However this is an album of strange beauty. ‘Polygyne’ feels like a trip down a nightmarish rabbit hole which still somehow makes you feel good. Parades is a vibrant cocktail of sounds and emotions that will warm your heart.

David Geraghty – Kill All Your Darlings

There seems to be a wealth of talent within the ranks of BellX1. On one side we have the electro-pop Tim O’. Donovan a.k.a Neosupervital. On the other we have the melancholic charm of David Geraghty. Where Neosupervital want make you dance in your sharp suits and high heels, David wants you to pull up a stool beside the bar and tell you stories of love lost, gained and lost again.

Kill All Your Darlings is story of life and love wrapped cosily in lush layers of piano and strings. Songs such as “Back Seat” are earnest yet mournful. There are some cheerful songs like “Fear To The Hitcher”, however this is the sound of a man with a heavy heart.

David Geraghty has created an album full of heart and soul with a delicate layer of hope. Coupled with his velvety husky voice, Kill All Your Darlings is a little gem albeit a fragile one. So pull up that stool and listen to the stories which David has
to sing.

Soulwax – Most of the Versions

‘Soulwax. Most of the remixes we’ve made for other people over the years except for the one for Einsturzende Neubauten because we lost it and a few we didn’t think sounded good enough or just didn’t fit in length-wise, but including some that are hard to find because either people forgot about them or simply because they haven’t been released yet, a few we really love, one we think is just ok, some we did for free, some we did for money, some for ourselves without permission and some for friends as swaps but never on time and always at our studio in Ghent.’

Brothers David and Stephen Dewaele and Stefan Van Leuvan and Steve Slingeneyer return as the much acclaimed Soulwax in this collection of re-workings not so briefly described in their 104 word album title, which tells us what to expect from this double cd compendium. In recent years the Belgium foursome have impressed us with their genre bending drug inspired releases, their most successful being Any Minute Now and its extended dancefloor accommodated remix Nite Versions.
David and Stephen Dewaele also continue to subdue their boredom beneath the guise of 2 Many DJ’s, where they have received much critical acclaim mainly due to their hugely successful release As Heard On Radio Soulwax Pt. 2 which succeeded in demolishing music snobbery by introducing such bizarre re-workings as the mash up of Destiny’s Child and Dolly Parton onto the dancefloor.

Now in this double cd both sides of their split personality collide to create an impressive assembly of dance inducing mixes.
The first cd exposes us to some well-needed Soulwax remixes collected over the years.
Initiated by the Gossip’s ruthless Standing in the way of control this eclectic mix sees Soulwax drag the likes of Sugababes, Muse and Lords of Acid all onto the same dancefloor. Robbie Williams also makes an appearance amongst these in the brilliant and bleep saturated remix of Lovelight, which is surprisingly one of the standout remixes on this album. Other highlights include Justice’s Phantom PT2 and LCD Soundsystem’s Daft Punk Is Playing at My House, which sees samples of various Daft Punk songs cheekily hacked into it. Soulwax also include a fusion of Human Resource and 808 State, a remix that evokes images of fields, dense with rave worshippers united by a confused elation and yellow smiley faces emblazoned on oversized sweaty t-shirts.

The second cd sees 2 Many DJ’s remixing these remixes (stay with me) into a awe inducing set including as the album title explicitly informs us, remixes ‘that are hard to find because either people have forgot about them or simply because they haven’t been released’.
Remixes such as Felix Da Housecat’s instructive Rocket Ride, Ladytron’s brilliantly youth embittered Seventeen and Playgroup who lustily suggest to ‘Make it Happen. Among all this deviant euphoria Hot Chip provide us with a well-needed synthy lull before its laidback vocals are strimmered apart by an aggressive base.
The set concludes with the flawless remix of DJ Shadow’s 6 Days where the B-52’s defiant guitar riff perseveres to the end of this compilation.

This release further endorses Soulwax’s dance credentials to an imposing degree proving that they really do know how to spoil us with music that could provoke even the most folk-ed up into uncoordinated displays of ecstasy. This is a fantastic remix album that threatens to instigate widespread boycotting of clubs in favour of Soulwax sound-tracked house parties.

Battles – Tonto

With a shimmer of delicate notes tingling through the introduction, Battles launch into the relentless and possessive track Tonto. Following on from their critically acclaimed release Atlas, Tonto has no easy task of rivalling its predecessor’s success. Although lacking the brilliantly ambiguous lyrics of Atlas, Tonto tumbles through its melody, snagging itself on idiosyncratic sounds until Tyondai Braxton’s hollers lead us to the song’s superb climax. Finally the jingle of bells leads its sedated bass lumbering towards a shrill pitched conclusion.

Remixes include one by The Field whose only triumph seems to be in forcing you to endure seven minutes of what sounds like an old printer noisily chewing its way through fragments of the song. Another by Four Tet remains more loyal to the original song and it’s all the better for it giving us a bass-soaked Tonto worthy of the dancefloor.

Also included are two live performances, one of Tonto, the other of Leyendecker, which allows Battles to smugly display how amazing they really are. Lastly the Hip-Hop inoculated remix of Leyendecker will leave you shamelessly chanting ‘I live in the hood’ over the seditious bass and vocals of Joell Ortiz.

Soulwax Interview

The notorious, euphoria-inducing Belgian band Soulwax continued to do what they do best and destroyed an Ambassador full of people’s inhibitions with their pounding remixes from their new release, Most of the Remixes.
Re-workings of LCD Soundsystem, Robbie Williams and Felix da Housecat ignited an already charged crowd into strobe-esque movements while we pogo-ed in unison. Wincing as sweat-filmed skin peeled on and off my own, arbitrary elbows from some blur in the crowd jabbed the air and stilettos haphazardly syringed my feet, I took a moment to look fondly back on more hygienic times when only a little while earlier I had been sitting comfortably upstairs in Soulwax’s changing room. Greeted by the Dewaele brothers, core members of the band, they wasted no time in making us feel welcome, offering plenty of champagne, beer and other various food and drink littering the room. Displaying equal benevolence with their time, I got a chance to ask them a few questions…

You’ve just released your new album – Soulwax, most of the remixes… and it has loads of different stuff on it from Kylie, LCD Soundsystem. Did you find it hard to get copyright clearance from anyone?

David: Eh no, the reason we did the album with EMI, is because they own the rights for most of the artists.
Stephen: Yea it was really convenient ‘cause most of the people used to be on Virgin or like Parlophone.
D: It was really easy.
S: They were like-‘hey yeah, we got 15 other tracks you guys can remix.’

So there wasn’t anyone who you remixed who you couldn’t put on this CD?

D: No I mean they had a few, people who wouldn’t pick up the phone, that kinda stuff and the next week they did, it wasn’t kinda, nothing…
S: No big stories
D: Kinda boring
S: All boring stuff

(Voice in the backround: Make it sound exiting!)

D: Oh yea, well ok, the Klaxons they were real assholes.
S: Those guys especially, and LCD were rude, they were just rude.
(Same voice in backround: LCD Shitsystem, that’s what.)
S: Ooh quote/unquote…And Justice they were being French to us, you know like, ooh I don’t like your remix, Daft Punk they don’t even acknowledge the fact that we exist.

I hope you do the same to them.

S: Yea I ignore them, I’m like Robot? No you’re not! No actually it was all really easy, there’s a couple that we didn’t put on there, very few, but there’s one from a Mexican Band called Moderato which we did a couple of years ago which we really liked. But there’s only… we didn’t have enough… there wasn’t physically enough time on one c.d. to put it on and it was also a really fast tempo so we didn’t put it on there. That would have been one that we would have really loved to put on there, but which we skipped but maybe now, some kid will put it on a blog and it’s out there…

So you’re not going to be playing it tonight, it’s not going to be included?

S: The Mexican song? It’s really hard ‘cause we don’t understand what he’s saying, we actually did a remix and we completely did the remix without knowing what he’s saying but they love it. So I guess we kinda made some sense, cause we cut up his vocals a little bit but there’s no way I could sing that cause I don’t even understand what he’s saying, so we’re not playing that one, maybe we should if we go to South America, it’s a really good idea…
D: I hate to be the theoretical analyst but Mexico is really Central America not South America.
S: Yea you’re right.

Have any of the artists you remixed responded to your mixes?

D: Well I guess 75%, or maybe 72% of the people that are on the album are friends of ours…(thinks) maybe 68%.
S: How bout 23?
D: And you know we know them personally so, either they were…either they didn’t tell us honestly what they thought of it and they just lied, but most of them said they liked it.

Do you feel more pressure to do a good remix because you know them?

D: Yea it’s tough, it’s tougher for… there’s a few that we don’t know but we love, like Daft Punk and when we got to get asked to do DJ Shadow we were like ‘oooh Shadow!’ and it’s tough. It’s tough because there’s other people like say Robbie, who we like but we didn’t really care about the track, it’s easier to remix a track that you don’t really like.

Cause you feel like you can improve it?

S: Or fuck it up.

Or have a different take on it?

S: Yea yea, yea, but Shadow was hard cause, like we said yes, but we listened to the track and we were like ‘ahhh, this is like really slow, folky’ and I mean it’s nice when it’s someone you really respect but it’s easier when it’s someone who you can be like ‘ok let’s see what we can do with, like Robbie Williams or the Sugababes or something like that.’

Robbie Williams, Sugababes, they’re kinda like mainstream, do you find that people dismiss mainstream artists today, how do you feel about it?
D: Yea we do the same, yea booo, no I mean, why would you say today, yea we like mainstream. I mean we could get into a longer discussion about the mainstream but it used to be good, it used to be really good.
S: When was that?
D: I think, anytime between 1955 and …

S: Long pause, long pause.
D: No I’m trying to think….89?
S: 89? So 91 the mainstream sucked.
D: No I’m just saying as a general, obviously there were good things in the 90’s that were hits
S: Like Spaceman by Babylon Zoo, would that be great or would that be seen as…
Midnight Mike (to David) : What identifies the thing that made this great shift?
D: Money
S: Yea but that was always one of the biggest factors.
MM: Yea but more money being made
D: Yea so more shit being made

Do you think artists feel obligated to make the same kind of records because they are under pressure from their labels not to deviate from that?

D: It’s not necessarily the labels, its just the whole… everyone’s scared, everyone’s just scared and I think that when the music industry was really booming say, 70’s, I think that there was just like this spirit of yea lets just make a crazy record and we’ll sell millions. People were more open-minded then they are now. It’s a shame and you know it’s getting worse and worse ‘cause 5 years ago there were still things in the mainstream that I think were great quality but to give a good example someone like Bowie today, he wouldn’t get signed by any record company because he’s too much of a risk. Even if it’s good, it’s potentially good, it’s too much of a risk and people don’t take risks anymore.
S: (to Midnight Mike as he leaves to perform) Watch out for the mainstream!
MM: It’ll take me away like a river

How do you approach remixing, how would you go about choosing the songs?

S: Every remix has a different story and I think the ones that are the coolest are the ones where we decided to choose the song ‘cause we liked the song and we played it, like the Gossip song. They asked us to do a remix and we never actually had time and when ‘Standing in the way of Control’ came out we played it as DJ’s but we found it was not fast enough and we wanted to make it sound bigger and we actually asked them can we remix it and that’s a good way of doing it cause it’s the reverse way but we knew what we wanted to do. It was clear from the beginning that was the thing that needed to be done. I think the Justice one is the same in the way that it went but then they’re all different, each one has a different story, they’re all like… its not like we… cause the Shadow one, like Dave says, and the Daft Punk one, you’re kinda intimidated but that’s it, but at the same time I respect as much James Murphy from LCD. I rate him as high as I rate Shadow and all these people but I know him so that makes it even harder for us, but I think we’ve learned to deliver what people want. In the beginning we used to do, say the Kylie one, we used to be a little more like stubborn and do rock versions but now I mean people just want to dance, want to go crazy, want to put fluorescent glasses on.

So you got Soulwax and 2 Many DJ’s, do you feel like your background with performing with instruments in Soulwax has helped you in djing and making the remixes?

S: Yea definitely, I think the fact that we are all good at playing our stuff, we play instruments, we play live, like say tonight we play the remixes live which is pretty hard. Steve has to change his drum sounds every song, I have to manipulate the vocals to sometimes sing the vocals, like in the Gossip and like Kylie I can’t do it so we found this thing where we can fuck them up live on stage but it’s hard work. But I think the fact that, it’s a little bit the same with LCD, we’re all rock kids or punk kids and we’re all used to playing in bands and we all know what its like to be on a bus and play in toilets so all of this is a holiday, it’s a fucking picnic, its amazing, its really amazing and I do think we challenge ourselves to be more, I wouldn’t say emergent but I think we have the same attitude as rock bands but we play it with synths, so we kinda change the guitars for synths although today we will use some guitars.

With 2 many djs and with your remixing, would that ever influence what you are doing with Soulwax?

D: Well to be quite specific about it, all the remixes were made as Soulwax, but they were made with the intention of playing them as 2 many DJ’s so not many 2 many DJ’s would influence Soulwax.

So they’re not completely separate?

S: We don’t separate them, we have to put lines, we have to do it sometimes cause otherwise we are like ‘aahh’ but it actually is the same thing for us, we DJ, we play in the band, we remix, and for us it’s just another discipline.

As regards influences, you mention explicitly Ghent in the very long title of your album, it must be an influence on you, or is it?

D: The city? It’s just where were from, I don’t know, I mean obviously wherever you live is a massive influence on whatever but I don’t know if it’s tangible.

Do you think though if you grew up somewhere else, like has it got an especially good music scene or…

D: Well first of all its apathetic, there’s no way you can know, but yea we do think that we’re kinda like a product of partially of where we live but I don’t know, I don’t know if we would have grown up in Poland it would have been different.

S: There’s like 250,000 people, it’s actually a small town but there are a lot of students and there’s a lot happening, like it was the first place to have a techno label called RNS and I always think that a lot of people from the north of France and Holland always came to Ghent. It’s in between cultures, it’s always been an interesting place, but it’s also never, it’s also small, tiny which is the reason why, I think a lot of people haven’t heard about it and maybe we kinda fucked it up. But it’s such a small town, the more people from outside come in, the more people from there start thinking oh we’re Paris and they’re like, you’re not. You can drive your bicycle from one end to the other and it’s done.

What other influences would have affected you? Your dad being a dj?

D: No
S: I don’t think his DJing was an influence, I think the fact that all his records were in the house and we stole all of them, that was the biggest influence but it also meant that Dave and me used to go to gigs and concerts when we were young and we would be… it was a different upbringing to a lot of other kids. I do think we had access to all these things but then some other kids whose dads we know who were also DJ’s ended up being dentists.

You said that heavy rock bands would have influenced Soulwax, but what would have influenced you as 2 many DJ’s, dance-wise?

S: I don’t know. I do think as 2 Many DJs we were influenced by a lot of rock stuff, I don’t think there’s one particular dance band or people or DJ that really influenced us but I think it was a lot of things, but it wasn’t only dance music so… and I do think as for Soulwax, I do think that we were influenced by Kyuss and Monster Magnet and all these bands. I do think that’s always been our core, as rock bands we like rock music. I like 15% of dance music but there’s 85% of bullshit. But I love…and it’s something that really gets me going, I say the first Daft Punk record was really a big influence on us cause I think it showed you that you could make electronic music but have the same attitude as a punk record or like a metal record or something.

Is DJing just something that you fell into?

S: The 2 many DJ’s thing is just something that just happened but I mean we always DJ-ed before like when we had the band, and I started DJing with Steve and then he left for a girl to New York, it’s always a girl, and then I asked Dave to DJ with me and we became 2 Many DJs and it’s all because we were bored. Playing with the band we’d spend so much time doing nothing and we’d be like cool let’s do…and we’d always be done at like 9 o’ clock because we’d be doing support for some band, let’s say for Muse or something like that, which was fun but you’d be there and be like cool what will we do now and you would always end up in a bar, at a club and be like hey, cool let’s ask if we can DJ and that’s how it all started.
It’s really…there was no plan like hey let’s do this, and I think we started playing a lot of stuff that people were either pissed off about or like really happy about. People were like ‘you can’t play the Stooges you have to play house music’, and then other people would be like ‘yea you played the Stooges’ and we’d be like ‘okay cool’.

Do you have any favourite remixes that you have done, or maybe a fairer question would be to ask if there are any remixes that you are especially proud of?

S: No it always differs for us, but I think I really like the last one we did for LCD Soundsystem ‘Get innocuous’. I really like that one, but that’s not even on the album so therefore and I always think that it’s going to be the last thing that we’ve done because it’s newest. But it’s fun like tonight to play live, it actually shows that we put a lot of work in there. Yea they’re more then sometimes remixes, we have to re-write the whole song sometimes.

So you’re proud of this?

S: I’m proud of this, I’m proud of night versions, of 2 Many DJs, of Soulwax, of stuff that we’ve done as production. I mean for me, I know it’s all different for people but it’s the same for me, everything is the same for me, it’s all music and me having fun with it.

Is there anything in particular that you play that everyone goes crazy for?

S: When we DJ or when we play with the band? Cause they’re very similar.

Both.

S: I think when we play with the band and we play the Justice remix they go crazy. They go really nuts.

So do you enjoy it because of that?

S: No actually no, its extra, its extra when you do something that you really like and people are like wow, you can tell some tracks really…but its good because you start understanding how crowds react to things, to dance music. A build up, a breakdown, it’s a bit like the Pixies. You have the verse which is like the bass line, the drums, the vocals and then when the chorus comes in it like kicks in. Its like build, un-build, there’s a structure to music, music has a definition and I think the more we play it the more we understand how it works. (laughs) We unlearn it then.

Would you tend to follow these structures or do you try and experiment with different ideas?

S: You mean in the studio? No I think we try and fuck it up but I mean there’s always going to be a build up, a breakdown, something, but say in the Robbie one, we stretch it out, and people are going ‘ahh give us something’. I think we’re really really really…I mean someone told me that when you’re on E or something and you come to see us DJ or something, like it really freaks you out because we play with it the whole time and apparently when you’re on drugs its not good. I don’t do that many drugs so I don’t know, I’ve never done drugs in my whole self, but Steve once I think, was on a lot of drugs and he was like ‘you guys are freaking me out’.

Your tickets should have a warning on them…

S: Yea it’d be a good warning though, (puts on a cheerful voice) ‘Don’t go when you’re on drugs’

What have you planned for Soulwax or 2 Many DJs or do you have another project on top of that?

S: I think we’re going to start making a new 2 Many DJs record and new Soulwax record soon, we’re going to produce Tiga’s record, we’re releasing a new movie that we’ve done that Sam’s been filming the last 2 years and actually there’s footage of Electric Picnic, there’s a lot of good stuff on it, it’s good.

And when is that coming out?

S: I think it’s going to be February.

And is it going to be a DVD release?

S: I think it will be DVD but we’re going to try and film copies so we can play at venues and show it.

That will be good.

S: I know, I think it will too.

Backtracks 2: Arcade Alchemy

Will Butler, “His Brother’s Band,” and the Old Flame

Only rarely does a band reach a stage of recognition where they no longer need to be named, let alone introduced. “A certain band from Montreal” has become a code name — used in the first issue of Analogue, but in common trade by various DJs as well — for only one band from Montreal. They join the likes of Radiohead and U2, which defined Oxford and Dublin in much the same way. The difference, of course, is that Arcade Fire has only released two full-length albums and an EP, and has been on the radar for about three years. The Oxford gentlemen will mark fifteen years of music next year, and the Dublin lads now have twenty-six. All three bands have been called the best in the world by reputable music magazines at assorted high points of their careers. This is either a lot of pressure on one relatively young, talented, and earnest group of people, or it is a truly twisted new level of hype.

It is tempting to put it down to the latter, and say that Arcade Fire is a fluke of the market, that rare case when something packaged and recommended as “good music” convinces everyone at once. Top-ten lists are mostly an echo chamber; the right critic makes an album great. Agents and companies manufacture success, and this time they did it well. It’s certainly true that there has been no shortage of hype. In some music circles, this has provoked the first Great Arcade Fire Backlash, because for the insecure connoisseur, popularity is a sure sign that something is wrong with the music.

It turns out, however, that Arcade Fire is an even rarer case than perfect market synergy. It is the case where the music, the albums, the band, and the live show are in fact that good. It is the case where Bono hears you and decides he wants to use your song as entrance music on his tour, and later asks your band to open for his. (You are able to say no.) It is the case where David Bowie buys up boxfuls of your debut album to give away to his friends for Christmas, then comes and sings with you in Radio City Music Hall. This type of success is not about what management, record companies, and marketers did well. It is about the transcendent power of what the musicians carved from noise and silence.

What is the role of music journalism when confronted with this achievement? Naturally, the impulse is to convince as many people as possible to take notice and listen. That task done, however, what can be added to what the band has already done? Who would rather read a review of a great album than listen to a great album? Criticism is always secondary to the thing itself. The risk is creating more distrust and exhaustion with excessive praise that the music manifestly does not need. It is thus with no small amount of trepidation that I enter the fray, add to the flood of ink that has already been spilled in the name of Arcade Fire, and tell a more personal story about the experience of their music. While the band may need no introduction, one of its members might. Also, I have a rather unusual story.

I met Will Butler because in the summer of 2004, he was travelling around Europe with my ex-girlfriend. All three of us had gone to the same college in Chicago, but I had graduated two years before them and moved to Berlin. In spite of the potentially awkward conditions, the terms were sufficiently amicable that I could happily host the two of them in my apartment, cooking them food and giving tours of the city, for three days. I had a guitar sitting in the house which was occasionally picked up by various residents and played. From this, it emerged that Will was part of a band, mainly as a percussionist. We learned that we had both attended boarding school — rivals, actually — and that we shared an interest in poetry and Slavic languages and literature, both of which he was studying. There were some other obvious matters of taste in which we did not disagree. We laughed a great deal, walked a great deal, and found a certain comfort particular to recent strangers. It was a few months before Funeral was released in the United States, but I like to think that while he was in my home, he already had the songs kicking around in his head: his crazy drum, his brother’s crazy voice.

I said goodbye to them as they boarded a high-speed train on the tracks at Zoologischer Garten, the same “Zoo Station” of a certain Dublin band with whom Will (and his brother) would later refuse to tour the world. I could write that I knew I’d see him again, or her, but there was at most only the mirage of a hope. I can no longer see clearly how I felt, standing there or walking home. I can hear songs that were in his head then only because they’re in my head now. From here, all of us are infected with the awareness of what Will would become, just as this story is infected by its journalistic context, by the illustration on the cover.

Not having really paid attention, I missed any connection to Will Butler when America put Funeral on its top ten lists of 2004. As the album wasn’t released in Ireland until 2005, I hadn’t sought out or heard the music yet. I was in Chicago that January, fighting the snow and ordering a coffee, when Will and I saw each other through the window of a café. We caught up only briefly, and he said rather excitedly that he was leaving school to play in “his brother’s band.” I wrote down the name of this band, and said I would find it when I returned to Ireland.
I had no idea it would be so easy. When I walked into Tower on Wicklow Street, Funeral was posted on the wall, number sixteen on the European charts. I took it home and listened, but I can’t say anything about this. I pored over the liner notes, looking for Will. He isn’t there in person; he missed the photo shoot. He pointed out to me last month, during his impromptu visit to Trinity FM, that he is the extra shadow on the wall in the photo of the band. They had tried to add his face with Photoshop, but when that didn’t work, they just gave him a shadow.
Will as a shadow: this is an inherently poetic idea. Will’s enjoyment of himself as a shadow: this is a characteristic of the poet, not the rock star. He did go back to school in the end and finished with a thesis of poems, which I’ve never read. I trust him to have found the right words. He laughs the laugh of the keen observer, relishing the small absurdities of modern life and, increasingly, the large absurdities of his own life. At his level, it remains one of the most difficult and most demanding jobs in the world to play two days on, one day off. In particular, the degree of commitment for which the band has become justly famous means that each time they perform, they risk everything.

No man was ever less of a shadow on stage. Will climbs the truss, throws the drums, wears the helmet, and on occasion tackles others while playing. Somehow he never loses the rhythm. His catharsis becomes ours through sheer fearlessness, through absolute force; this is the essence of rock performance, and something unique to that art form. Offstage, even directly after a show, he is surprisingly quiet, and as generous and attentive as he was previously insane. He is loyal to the imperatives of form; in rock and in life, he is concentrated, energized, wide-eyed, awake. This just has different results in different worlds.

After their show in the Brixton Academy this March, I heard a man congratulate Will personally on his performance, and when I commented on how familiar he looked, Will simply said, “Oh, that was Ed from Radiohead.” Oh, right. Ed. Will is unfazed; this is not uncommon. This is his job. He’s doing what he knows how to do, what he needs to do. We might feel indebted, as I certainly do, but the band seems to lavish us with music with the sole expectation that we will enjoy it, that it will matter to us. Everyone has their own story of the music, and to remember the commonality and scale of this in the face of our own emotions is humbling.

There are two reasons that Bono, Bowie, and Ed are drawn to their shows. First, they all react at the same level that we do — like Will himself, these are people first, not celebrities — and they know the real when they hear it. Second, though, is the recognition of themselves. Arcade Fire is seriously attempting to fulfill its own potential. Through the mysterious alchemy of love and risk, this potential is virtually limitless; it’s bigger than Funeral in the same way that Radiohead’s was bigger than The Bends. Critics who say that Neon Bible is no Funeral are as short-sighted as the fans who kept asking for “Creep” a decade later. These questions may be worth asking when the band is on LP ten or LP twenty, continuing to make the music that summons them most urgently at that time, evolving their lineup, their style, their instrumentation. When I asked him whether the ever-growing success of the band is changing the tours, Will was enigmatically accurate, saying that this time is no more different than the other times were different.

It’s a good lesson in fame, particularly in Will’s fame, that nothing was particular or unique in our first meeting or in our most recent goodbye. People are people, and friendship is friendship. I can’t help but think that Arcade Fire’s success is rooted in this same realisation, and that this is one source of their authenticity on stage. Their own story is about marriage, brotherhood, friends, family, and loss. They have placed so much priority on reflecting this in the music that anyone similarly situated — that is, anyone who has suffered or rejoiced in the business of living — hears themselves.

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