Neon Bible Turns 10

It's 2017, and we haven't received a new album from Arcade Fire going on almost 3-and-a-half years. Since the Montreal-via-Houston outfit released its first full-length, Funeral, back in 2004, they went on to release albums every 3 calendar years going forward ... until 2016. But they released a new track last month (that, while topical, did nothing for me) and all signs point to a new full-length later this year. It also just so happens that today marks the 10-year anniversary of the release of their sophomore effort, Neon Bible, so I thought this would be a good opportunity to look back to a decade ago.

Arcade Fire die-hards will debate and debate the rankings of the band's four long players; it gets that contentious when your album releases are major music events (with sometimes elaborate roll-out schemes). But there is no debating the fact that each of the four are all incredible, thus making even their 'worst' album perhaps nothing short of a masterpiece. With that in mind, Neon Bible is my 3rd-favorite Arcade Fire album, just behind Funeral and The Suburbs, in no particular order as of this moment.

Listening to this album today, it's hard to remember that this was no sure thing. Yes, Funeral was an auspicious, landmark debut, but there are rarely guarantees for sophomore records. Luckily for us, the group followed through and made a booming, downcast, pointed, alive yet apocalyptic record that rarely relents (aside from the title track). Listening to this album today, it's hard to remember that this was 2007 - not 2017. I am not one for politics, but it would be wrong to dismiss that this album is, in part, a major reaction to the Bush years. Luckily (?) for us, the album plays just as well today, as our nation is once again in a scary situation with our new leader. I'm not saying things were great with Obama, but - hey! This isn't a column on my political thoughts! I digress.

I'm trying to remember how I got this album. Did I purchase it on iTunes? Did I use Limewire? I know I didn't get it in stores. (Modest Mouse's We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank came out 10 years ago a few weeks from now, and that was one of the last CDs I bought in a physical store.) Regardless, this was 2007 and high school was coming to an end. I was traveling to Poland, Prague and Israel for the rest of the semester, and I will forever be back in some of those places when I hear this music.

If Funeral was a mediation on locality and a prequel of sorts to the more sprawling The Suburbs, Neon Bible is the Arcade Fire, terrified, breaking outside the neighborhoods' walls to find the state of America as a whole. And let me tell you - it ain't pretty. Let's go through this track by track.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aXuymDSGCko

1. "Black Mirror"

Right off the bat, we are hit with dissonance (musically) and paranoia (lyrically). This song is about the screens that have taken a hold of our lives and our helplessness and hopelessness in needing them. And, remember, this was 2007, not 2017! Safe to say technology's hold on us is worse now. "Black mirror knows no reflection / Knows not pride or vanity / Cares not about your dreams / Cares not for your pyramid schemes." It doesn't know who we really are, our tendencies or what we hope to achieve. Yet, we still need it to pay attention to us and tell us the future: "Mirror mirror on the wall / Show me where the bombs will fall."

2. "Keep the Car Running"

The Springsteen-iest Arcade Fire song until "City with No Children" came on The Suburbs, this was one of the singles released from the album, along with "Black Mirror," "Intervention" and "No Cars Go". It's in a major key and keeps up the pulse of the album while doubling down on the trepidation: "If some night I don't come home / Please don't think I've left you alone." The whole song is a plea to a friend/family member/loved one to be ready to flee imminent persecution at a moment's notice. Not my favorite song on the album, but I love the buildup at the end and the sudden stop - not the only time on this track-listing that that occurs.

3. "Neon Bible"

This track is the only real lull on the album, and it's a nice one, even if it comes a little early. What is neon about the bible I can't entirely explain, but - like the album cover - maybe Win is talking about the illumination that may (or may not) come from reading it. Maybe he's talking about Christian televangelists. Maybe he's just talking about TV itself, which portends doom on a daily basis. And if it is true, well... you know.

4. "Intervention"

Back to the onslaught. With one press down on the keys of a gothic church organ, we are thrown into a dark and dire world once again, commenting on religion. "You say it's money that we need / As if we're only mouths to feed" - We need more than food! We need to get out of these walls! "Working for the church / While your family dies" - You're doing 'God's work' but missing the point completely. "Hear the soldier groan / 'We'll go at it alone'" - Too naive to realize all of this, the practicer decides he'll do it all himself, and it never stops. "Been working for the church / While your life falls apart / Singing Hallelujah with the fear in your heart / Every spark of friendship and love / Will die without a home." One may foster certain ideals in a religious setting/upbringing, but without other influences and by ignoring everything else, it's all for naught.

5. "Black Wave/Bad Vibrations"

Regine shows up to take lead duties on the first half of this track before Win takes the reins on the back half. There's more French in this song, and I like some of the lyrics here, regardless of their meaning. I think they refer to an attempt to escape (yet again), either from Regine's family's Haitian upbringing or, perhaps, from events of the past: "Run from the memory" ... "Nothing lasts forever / That's the way it's gotta be." Ultimately, though, getting away is futile: "Je nage, mais les sons me suivent" (which is French for "I swim, but the sound follows me") and "The sound is not asleep / It's moving under my feet." There's always that "great black wave in the middle of the sea for you" and "for me" - the singer shares history with whoever he or she is singing to. This is a very orchestral piece, and when Regine comes back, layering her voice to add the harmonies during Win's part of the track, the feeling is like that of a wave rising and crashing. Now, the ocean is brought on.

6. "Ocean of Noise"

It was already evident in the opening line of the album, but the ocean - water - was laid out as a major theme early on. This track is one of the top, top highlights here. The swell near the end of the song as Win bemoans "We're gonna work it all out!" is one of, if not the best, moment(s) on the whole thing. The title is heard in the first line of the song and while the music so resembles an ocean it may seem a little heavy-handed, I'm all the way on board (ship pun?) for it. Lyrically, sadly, these lines could read as reactions to Trump's election even though this is, again, from 2007: "No way of knowing / What any man will do" ... "An ocean of violence / Between me and you" ... "Now who here among us / Still believes in choice?" ... #Resist

7. "The Well and the Lighthouse"

The transition from the last song to this one works so well that it makes me feel like I've been dropped into a race that's already being run. I think this song is about striving to make a transition from being down-and-out (the well) to an upstanding member of society (the lighthouse), two polar opposites. As to the well, the subject has willfully done his misdeed ("If I seem lost / Well, I weighed the cost / And chose my crime / Now it's mine, all mine"). When the lighthouse comes in, the subject is "resurrected," either a long way from his crime or, even, dead and able to look back on what he did. (I always equated the forceful sound Win makes on the "ck" of "wreck" as a brief crash of thunder accompanied by a strike of lightning.) Either way, even as the song begins to slip into lullaby mode, things are not quite honky dory: "The lions and the lambs ain't sleepin' yet."

8. "(Antichrist Television Blues)"

Just three chords, this song could be stripped down to just acoustic guitar and it would still move. The accoutrement sprinkled in as the song chugs on does a great job of creating a frantic atmosphere, but the lyrics tell another sad story here. This is largely about a man desperate for fame for his daughter. He pleads with God, with others, with himself, with his daughter to get her "up on that stage". The imagery here goes back to the evil of television and the mistaken allure of fame within the guise of religion. The singer's blaming others and pushing his daughter too hard because of his own failures, justifying it because since he wasn't successful, he will now be "a good Christian man," he'll pray for her and she'll make it. Then, it must come true... He rants and rambles - asking, pleading, reasoning, and trying to convince himself - but his self-doubt can't help but creep in: "Tell me, Lord / Am I the antichrist?" Love the musical buildup to the end and the abrupt stop. The mystery of this song, to me, is why the title is in parentheses. Thoughts?

9. "Windowsill"

Love the trajectory of this song as well. It starts out as two-string acoustic guitar strummer before exploding into a cacophony of horns and strings, replete with Win's cry and harmonies careening in the sea. Lyrically, this song again hearkens back to our main themes of television and water. The subject - who may be the daughter from the previous song or someone watching what transpired within it - is upset and scared at what's going on in that box, inside and outside her house. She laments her father's actions, MTV and the impending "World War Three". A line like "I don't wanna live in America no more" is as blunt as it gets, and - yet again - stings for so many people in 2017, still. Is "I don't wanna see it out my windowsill" kind of a corny line? Yeah, but he's serious, so it works.

10. "No Cars Go"

Neon Bible's crown jewel. Reworked from Arcade Fire's self-titled EP from 2003, this song is a behemoth. It starts off with just a sprinkling from the flute section, and within moments powers you into a lively and invigorated world. The main string part, which lilts up and down, is the loveliest, most consistent part of the song, but the instrumental segment that begins at the 2:58 mark is maybe the most awesome passage of the entire album. Then, at the end, Regine's "ohhh" cries enter alongside the frenzy of the symphony to form an epic, climactic final act. "Between the click of the light / And the start of the dream" is one of my favorite lyrics, really, ever. This song, like some others as I've mentioned, is about escape - even when you don't know where you're going. But Arcade Fire are dreamers, and even when you don't know where you're going, just gearing up to make the trip is preferable to being miserable in your current state.

11. "My Body is a Cage"

Just when you think the album can't get any bigger or has nowhere else to go, there's this final track. I think it's a fitting ending even though if this song never existed, everyone would probably be satisfied with "No Cars Go" as the finale. And even though this is another song that swirls from relative calm to loud, it keeps the same pace the whole time. The organ from "Intervention" returns at the pause after one of the "My body is a -"s to make for one of the best, boldest moments on the album. I really resonate with it lyrically, or at least 17-year-old Max in 2007 did. Not only was I shy and was it hard to speak up even when I know I should have or wanted to, it was (is?) always nerve-racking to dance... just not my favorite thing to do. Finally, once more, these lyrics make sense for today: "I'm living in an age / That calls darkness light / Though my language is dead / Still the shapes fill my head" ... "Though the fear keeps me moving / Still my heart beats so slow." We all just want to communicate clearly.

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So, that's it. It's a big, outward, bombastic album that will make you feel something - even if it's dread. Arcade Fire shouted loud and clear here, cementing themselves as a major force in the more mainstream 'indie rock' genre. There's not a bad song on the album, and I'm very much looking forward to their new record, even if I could do without the politics (or the need to deal with them in the first place). Happy anniversary, Neon Bible! You don't look a day over one.