Ten years ago last week I made the venture to the Hatfield branch of HMV to seek out a copy of ‘Funeral.’ In all honestly I had no idea what I was looking for. In an attempt to latch on to the trend of listening to depression inducing bands I’d decided to buy an album called ‘Funeral.’ This sounds dark, I thought, I can listen to this and sit in dark rooms and wear dark clothes and be moody and trouble and eleven years old. Upon listening to my new purchase I realised that this wasn’t a band of tortured souls but a twee orchestral indie rock group, named after a horrific act of arson. I felt betrayed and left out of pocket by an album full of whimsical fancy. This marked the beginning of my inability to ‘get’ Arcade Fire.
I don’t think Arcade Fire are shit. You can tell from the crap load of instruments that the numerous members can play that they are talented, but I just don’t understand them. For me their compositions do not inspire feelings of awe and wonder, but a mediocre jingle I hear in the background that blends into several in distinguishable indie bands in my mind. They’re alright but there’s nothing special.
Arcade Fire seems like the new bar down in the new area of town that all your friends talk about because it serves cocktails made from the tears of Icelandic bankers and snake heart sliders. Once you get there you find the snake heart to be chewy, the banker tears overly salty, yet everyone else but you is having a great time and instagramming the fuck out of the taxidermy mounted to the walls. They look like the house band for a boutique festival in the shadows of Mount Snowdon, yet sound like Jools Holland’s wet indie dream. I don’t get what they are or why their mediocre music causes circle jerks among arts students across America.
When they played Reading Festival 2010 I yet again missed the point, mainly as I skipped their headlining gig to go get a nose bleed at Pendulum’s set. Again, I wasn’t at a point in which I could embrace the melodic charms of the band, I just wanted to drink Strongbow and dance like a malfunctioning killbot. Sad perhaps, but I feel like I didn't miss anything significant in yet again avoiding Arcade Fire, except perhaps the filling that got knocked out in Pendulum’s mosh pit.
Arcade Fire are safely popular without massively offending anyone, pushing no boats. They probably tell people they’re gluten intolerant just so they can eat raw foods in a cafe that doesn’t accept card. Quite simply, they constantly give off an air that they and their music are better than you. Thanks for the effort Arcade Fire, but until I can afford to buy a home in Buckinghamshire with a man who tucks a checkered shirt into his chinos, I’m cool.
Don't get Daft Punk? Hate on Hendrix? Laugh at Lamar? (Kendrick - we know the other one is shit.) If you want to rant a few out on the matter, drop a line to firstname.lastname@example.org