Review Summary: Arcade Fire are back!
Fresh off of a cover for the grotesque live-action Dumbo remake, Arcade Fire have (apparently) blessed us with their presence once again. But not that other Arcade Fire. You know the one. The one that made 2017’s Everything Now, the album that crashed their disco starship right back down to Earth.
The sad truth is, Arcade Fire didn’t get replaced with a set of clones or robot duplicates. That was them. I suppose in the most literal sense, Arcade Fire is back. I mean, this isn’t a compilation of B-sides or something; it’s new material. In the 5 years since, Arcade Fire have had a lot of time to ruminate. They stewed and brainstormed, thinking of ways to win back favor after such a disastrous turn. WE is (supposedly) the album that would light the indie/alternative world aflame again. Just like they did before the madness, before they fucked it up.
By design, WE is a retread. It’s meant to give you the same experience again. From the moment the first singles began to drop, swarms of hurt Arcade Fire fans crawled out of the caves and crevices to exclaim proudly, “Arcade Fire are back! These are the best songs they’ve put out in a decade!”
And admittedly, I did somewhat enjoy the first single they released, “The Lightning I, II.” But I never confused it for what it was. It was a nothing of a song, focused only on recreating their past success. The people craved comfort. They wanted the energy, the fervor, the feeling. I did too. So while I wasn’t entirely convinced, a part of me wanted to believe.
But you can never go back. They’re not indie rockers anymore, they’re proven pop rock stars on Columbia Records. And the only feeling I can parse from this album is regret. You can hear it in the lyrics especially. “End of the Empire IV (Sagittarius A*)” has the band “unsubscribe” from modern life, a critique they already hit repeatedly on their lambasted last record. And while I didn’t exactly enjoy the execution of it then, it’s especially bad here. Themes of despair are clear on “Age of Anxiety I and II,” which isn’t something Arcade Fire has ever shied from singing about. But on those past records, they complemented their sadness with beautiful melodies and poppy hooks. Even when they try to be triumphant on “Unconditional II (Race and Religion),” it comes off as limp and strangely depressed.
I could write whining diatribes about how every new thing is bad and all old things are good, or how superficial modern life is. But I’m not Arcade Fire. I know good things still exist and I know most of the world doesn’t think about “Maserati sports cars” on a daily basis. Arcade Fire seems to talk about it a distressing amount though. It’s only speculation on my part, but I cannot help but feel like they might be projecting a bit onto their audience. Or are they mad at their audience? Actually, who is their audience? Indie kids that listen to major label arena rock? Misanthropes that go to sold-out stadium shows?
Who’s WE? Not I.
