GutterPutter

For anyone who is remotely new to indie rock as a whole, few artists or bands are able to embody the zeitgeist of the 2000s quite like Arcade Fire. They are a Canadian group from Montreal who are fronted by a husband-wife duo in Edwin “Win” Butler and Régine Chassagne since their inception in 2001 as a bit of a college project. Its humble beginnings would not have expected an anticipated self-titled EP in 2003 and especially with their debut album the year after – Funeral. Without Funeral, baroque/chamber pop as we know it would not have been one of independent music’s biggest draws and there would have been little incentive to aspire for more orchestral influences. I would once call myself a fan just under 10 years ago when I was just a school student.

Yet, more than twenty years into their gigantuan history and seven albums in at the time of writing, it seems like Arcade Fire is on their sluggish way out of the spotlight. Their two earlier records in 2007’s Neon Bible and The Suburbs in 2010 are similarly beloved, yet they never quite attain the level that Funeral has reached. The others, starting with 2013’s Reflektor, sought to adopt dance influences into their music with a more rhythmic focus. This in turn opens a gateway towards the band’s slow downfall in their reputation. What highlights like ‘Hey Orpheus’ have helped to show the band at their zenith with its meticulous mercatos and grand chants was dragged down by “hits” such as ‘Chemistry’. It feels even too kitschy for its own good in a song about kitschy relationships. The backlash hits even Funeral which, perhaps influenced by Win’s alleged sexual misconduct that was outed in 2022, is now thought of as extravagant and overweight in its melodrama. Contemporaries from back then like the Broken Social Scene are now seemingly on the rise to take over the once-coveted album’s legacy.

Pink Elephant was the band’s newest album which carries onward the dance direction that they have welcomed without a beat. As someone who does find parts of 2017’s Everything Now to be likeable (‘Signs of Life’ being surprisingly catchy while sticking to its confrontational remarks on shallowness, ‘Put Your Money on Me’ with its balance between love and materialism), Pink Elephant has the style without the substance. It feels like a parody of what many would dislike about Arcade Fire from their overwrought lyricism to its two-bit bid at poppy song structures without some twists and turns. The album is conceptually about finding human connections in the midst of the growing technologised world even though it feels as if it’s already been revisited before. Just from describing what the album is about, there are some serious problems to be had with the band.

The instrumentals in general embodies the aforementioned “style without substance” rhetoric. It sounds pretty, but there is something about it that lacks a strong enough punch, one that will stick with you whether you are feeling a certain mood. This haunts the tracks without any vocal performance in particular. ‘Open Your Heart or Die Trying’ is the intro which works like a drone with its accentuated synths that transitions from one note to another or trumpets in its self-assumed glory. Its limited use of any other instruments outside of the synths to try and make for a three-minute track would already conjure up impressions of pretensions. One that falls hollow compared to the band’s film soundtrack for Her in 2013 where the piano at large is more dynamic and capable of conveying the emotional intent without needing words. Now, take that criticism towards ‘Beyond Salvation’ or ‘She Cries Diamond Rain’. The music as a result has a charm to it, but it’s unsubstantiated in what it wants to express.

Now, we get into the songwriting part of the album and on top of its lyrics lacking the delicateness of ‘Neighborhood 1 (Tunnels)’ back in Funeral, it feels predictable in its intent. Ironic given its thesis. The title track goes downtempo, its meaning based on the thirst for authenticity. Yet, the familiar verse-chorus-verse structure and the obvious semantic field of falsehood makes the ordeal feel a bit manipulative. The crescendo as a result comes off as more artificial than cathartic like some AI-generated rough draft of a song for an upcoming Cyberpunk game entry. ‘Year of the Snake’ errs more towards a lower key which gives the song a depressive feel which is funny given its emancipatory focus. Nonetheless, its zodiac motif comes off as genuine which somewhat undermines the album’s pursuit of the truth. Then you have ‘Circle of Trust’ which rehashes ‘Put Your Money on Me’ without its bit of fun. Not to mention as well, the lyrics even come off as forced. “The archangel Michael is blowing up your phone / He wants to know where you are” feels dystopian in a Christian way which gives the declarations of love a religiously obsessive angle. It doesn’t feel intentional so to say.

For the rest of the tracks, there was a consistent shoddiness that carries itself throughout. There are around one or two lines that would have made for an interesting concept yet it collapses from its hackneyed songwriting and instrumentation. Quite possibly the biggest highlight in the album was ‘Ride or Die’ where its representation of love at once comes off as liberating from the confines of life. Its flirtations with questioning traditional gender roles was sadly undermined by how it happened to be the chorus which then means that it could only dilute after it’s been mentioned five times. 

I don’t know what else to describe ‘Alien Nation’ except that it’s an inbred lovechild of ‘Creature Comfort’ and ‘Chemistry’ from eight years ago. A far cry response to the success of successive bands or acts that modernise their style like Black Country, New Road, the Last Dinner Party, or Japanese Breakfast (remind me to review her soon!) ‘I Love Her Shadow’ imagines an obsessive form of love that was upbeat, creating a dissonance between the lyrics and the music which is impossible to tell with regards to its sincerity given how it repetitively assures the crush’s love in the end. ‘Stuck in my Head’ was supposed to be the grand finale which shows the decisive break from play-pretend towards reality and maturation. However, the way that the crescendo builds is poorly mixed with how neutered its sound is outside of the drumming and even the way that it ends leaves much to be desired. The fading drone to close the track out feels more menacing than profound.

Pink Elephant at best is a letter that confirms once and for all that Arcade Fire feels that they have said enough for their legacy to stand on its two feet which is 15 years ago. The issue with this take is that it’s been released at a time when the band’s reputation is slowly collapsing. Few publications now name Funeral as one of the all-time best records on their updated lists and this album did little to reassure it. Instead, the tracks only expose the band as being incapable of refining or adapting beyond the style that made them favourites in the 2000s. Their sizable fandom would be elated at its release, but it’s hard to see for sure whether fans of indie rock as a whole would buy into this album. In other words, Pink Elephant feels like a curtain opening up to show one of the most overrated bands on Earth.

1.3/5