Arcade Fire - The Suburbs

After a much-hyped, eagerly observed wait for Arcade Fire's triumphant return, release day finally arrived. Of I went in my comfortable family car from my 3 bedroom terraced house to my local shopping centre to pick up an album about ... exactly that. The Suburbs turns its gaze inward to reflect on the modern life so many of us lived, and live, in our rapidly changing world.

The concept of suburban ennui is neither new nor original. Writing songs, composing articles and delivering speeches about the hardships of growing up in the relatively prosperous cities of the western world has become cliché, and risks sounding somewhat ridiculous. But that is not where this album goes.

Of course, there is a thick layering of malcontent, irritability and misanthropy thrown in, but it is all used to reveal a more subtle subtext. Funeral was a deeply personal album, describing the putting away of childish things, the acceptance of personal change and personal growth. Love, life and loss in equal measure. Neon Bible threatened us with the gaudy, insincere bombast of political and religious fervour, but instead delved headlong into dealing with the pressures and powers of world.

The Suburbs takes a step down from that soapbox and delivers an altogether sadder, yet more uplifting message. We all grew up, yet we are all both nostalgic and melancholy about the ways and whys of our upbringing. But the world is a fast changing place. The worlds of our childhoods no longer exist, and we must grow past them, yet not throw them out entirely.

The album opener and title track serves as an introduction or sorts. It lays out what lies ahead, and brings in the themes and background of the album. Following on, Ready To Start is an apt a title as is possible. While we can sit, mourning the lost past and wishing that things had been different, in any small way, it takes a decision to move on. And move on we do.

The album kicks it up a notch here with Modern Man, an introspective on the normal life of an average 9-to-5 man loving his average, 9-to-5 life. He queues up with the rest, waiting for his future to arrive, but is unsettled because something, somehow, seems amiss. It's played with an upbeat melody, incorporating a brilliantly catchy hook line that has me involuntarily snapping my fingers every time.

The pace continues through Rococo, with possibly the most difficult single word chorus I've ever tried to sing along to, and Empty Room before the next stand-out track; City No Children. It ponders the adult world's tendency to forget childlike things, to be entirely far too mature. At this point the album takes a turn toward a more familiar sound, with Half Light I taking on the strings and rich, layered sound that made Funeral so spectacular.

From here on in, the album seems to progress more and more toward 80s stylings, which of course would be the time of the band's childhoods. From the synth heavy bass driven pop of Half Light II through we get the punk rock stylings of Month Of May, which wouldn't have sounded out of place on Neon Bible if the subject matter weren't so positive.

More of Funeral's influence shows up as the album continues, with distinctive introductory riffs and very familiar chord progressions. While not as musically complex as its critically acclaimed predecessor, the soaring emotional punch is still there. In the penultimate double-track pair, Sprawl, the truth of the scale of urban development becomes clear, and the 80s influence comes to a head with Sprawl II, which wouldn't sound out of place on a Blondie compilation.

Bringing the album right down to basics, the mixed feelings of nostalgia and excitement are tempered again by the downbeat closing number, a reprise of the opening track. But this time the sound is lilting, softer, and somehow more positive. It brings the album to a satisfying close, but also prompts the listener to hit play one more time.

This is an impressive third album, sticking solidly with the concept album template, which completes a trilogy of emotions. First hope, then anger, and finally acceptance. From the very first listen I loved this album, and while some tracks are yet to grow on me, and others I struggle to recall at all, it doesn't seem to matter. I know they'll stick, and more to the point, I want them to. At over an hour, and with 16 tracks, this is a very long album, and yet it finishes all too soon. Like the two albums before, The Suburbs deserves to be listened to, and not just heard.