I do not believe Arcade Fire can be lumped into the "concept album" style of bands. Though there appear distinct themes and consistent imagery on each album, the band is much too self-absorbed to style an album purely for the sake of telling a fictional journey or, say, immersing the listener in some imaginative fantasy. In my opinion, the closest they got to this would have been on Reflektor, but even there the autobiographical leanings seemed just taped up in Greek mythology wrapping paper. You can still feel around the edges and give the thing a shake and gain a sense of what is underneath. No, the stories they tell with their music are grounded, not fantastical. They have the ability to treat an album a bit like a novella. Instead of clarifying paragraphs and background, they weave lyrics and instrumental textures to turn pages and close out chapters. Neon Bible is their horror story.
In the coming few paragraphs, I will share my thoughts on how I believe Neon Bible is one of the most well-structured and cohesive pieces of autobiography I have heard from a modern band. It is a wonder of commercial success without compromise; an intimate and existentially terrifying work.
A Candid intro
I am excited to dig into this album a bit and put my thoughts on "paper." I have not read reviews of the album in the nearly 20 years I've owned it, for similar reason as someone who loves a movie doesn't want some other schmuck's thoughts to taint the little charms and thought-provoking mysteries that remain. I have, however, read articles about their early years as a band and the slow burn that amounted to success from their prior album Funeral. I read how they purchased a church in Canada where they stayed and recorded much of the follow-up: Neon Bible. My intention here is not to write their history or give the reader full background on the band. What is written here is my heartfelt and sincere opinion. My intention is to give my thoughts on why I think Neon Bible is a work of somewhat egotistical and existential artistic genius; why I believe it has been pent up and inverted and marinated in my mind for so long; why I believe it can be reflected upon in youth, young adult life, and now nearly middle adult life without fatigue. Why it serves as a piece of art that you, the listener, can come back to year after year after year. Hopefully I do not give too much away and ruin your listening experience.
First: Thoughts as a Younger Person
I knew this album was special when I first heard it as a young know-it-all cultured egoist in college. The opening track "Black Mirror" irises in. I am transported immediately. My current infatuation, and soon to be lifelong love, of found-sound techniques in music is strummed like heartstrings. Sounds of water and waves take me away in black and white. My youthful heart latches on to the little sensations of escapism sprinkled throughout this album.
Please show me something that isn't mine
-But mine is the only kind that I relate to
and
An ocean of violence
Between me and you
and of course
no cars go
My ears reach to the tangible textures. The orchestra-tuning sensation and hurdy gurdy of "Keep the Car Running" induce chills down my neck and arms. I lie in the bed of strings and horns, comfortable and swimming. The song is joyful to me. It feels right and optimistic. I want to know the city he goes when he sleeps. I dream and journey as well. Unknown to me are, what I will sense later, darker truer undercurrents. I am blissfully unaware that the constant drone of the strings is as if they are always tuning and never quite ready to just dive into a piece; like they are always preparing and always adjusting, never content, never ready to just start, never able to come together and deliver on their reason for being built; always reaching to match pitch together...never playing.
This is how I treat and enjoy the album for years. Yet I know somewhere something is not right; that my presuppositions on first listening are misguided. "Black Waves/Bad Vibrations" makes it quite clear there is something deeper going on. For my naive little ears, it is literally in the structure practically spoon-fed to me: a song cut in half to warn
stop now before it's too late
eating in the ghetto on a hundred dollar plate
nothing lasts forever that's the way it's gotta be
How dare they ruin my enjoyment of the album like that? I was just escaping to the sea and it was great. I just got off from the high of the spritely march of "Intervention," where we were getting ready to go at it alone and every spark of friendship and love will die without a home wait a minute...hold on...
I can taste your fear
It's gonna lift you up and take you out of here
And the bone shall never heal
Waves. Lighthouse. Darkness. More isolation. More powerlessness. Just what is going on inside of me?
In an ocean of noise
I first heard your voice
Ringing like a bell
As if I had a choice
I swear I feel a part of this album. It is me and purely my own intuition leading me here. I am unique and smart and see these things through my own two ears. I am alone because I choose to be and I am seeking; ever seeking. But is it truly me doing this? Am I truly my own? What is this voice I hear come up and lead me to this folly?
If I seem lost, well I weighed the cost
And chose my crime
Now it's mine all mine!
Second: Thoughts as an Older Person
The 'bible' is not being entirely ignored here. A doctrine wrapped in such a glowing and artificial light would be one of the hardest things to ignore about this album. The cover casts the neon bible like a worn out, aged, failing advertisement. It is surrounded by blackness. The neon is not brightly glowing and joyous. It is not inviting. The whites at the top of the bible cast soft edges like florescent office ceilings. The pink and red around the edges look passionate and playful and tempting: about as much as a strip club or late-night convenience store. I can practically hear the hum of the neon looking at the album's cover. The clicking of the aging old tubes. The pages of the bible don't even light up anymore. The pink bleeds onto the pages.
Worship comes to mind when the phrase "neon bible" is mentioned. But in the light of the humming neon this type of worship is sad, and dark, and isolating. Misplaced worship. Idolatry.
oh you lost it, but you don't know how
in the light of a golden calf
Oh God I had to laugh
Dangerous worship.
Take the poison of your age
Don't lick your fingers when you turn the page
What is the life of an artist in this day and age? It is the year 2024, and I look around at the music landscape and wonder what rings true about musical fame. In the past, when I was growing up in the 90s, a lot of this fame was calculated and manufactured and supported by massive record companies. They had budgets to support and take risks on little ones. This context has changed greatly in the last 20 years. The internet age requires attention and payment of time. When Neon Bible was published, the internet age was still in infancy and social media was barely breaking out. I do not believe this album has anything to do with a critique of any specific earthly creation. Rather, this album captures a feeling I do not seem to feel from many modern artist's music: the sorrow and conflict of the heart in creating art. Nowadays artists seem all too glad to be using social media and the internet for outreach. I wonder, do they think of the neon bible? Did they ever feel the sadness of the powerless?
I can't help but wonder if these songs, now in my mind, become a stark warning of the sad and conflicting soul-state upon resignation to destiny; in this case as a cog in the great fame machine. Can't get much more "indie" than that, can you? Upon this, terror cascades like a torrent. The innocence is getting lost. The eyelids are being peeled back. The magic begins to fade. Why am I doing this now? What is happening to my art? Am I manufactured? Am I becoming a part of this? I don't have any power to avoid this, do I? Should I?
In the city it's the only light
There is no avoiding it.
She said to go claim what was mine
So down I fell, down into the water black
My prison cell, only the moon was shining back
Arcade Fire's shouting call-and-response is still a part of some of these songs, as it was in Funeral. But as in their former album they evoked an attempt to be heard amongst a backdrop of death and need for friendship, in this album the shouting seems more of that of a culprit caught in a trap laid by themselves. Or of answering a calling like "FINE. I'LL DO IT."
This album is existential and artistic dread. It is an important snapshot in time. The modern day evolution of an indie band resigning to fame, packaged up and sold and captured in a single compact disc. An American tale. Rush's Limelight for the year 2007, but with the skin of the artist's inner essence, conflicting emotions, ironic humor, and hopeless surrender laid bare behind translucent metaphor. It is grounded, and very real. It is the grapple of artists. A band's rise just before the age of the internet and influencers; what has become modern day prostitution of the consumer, legalized and encouraged in order to make a buck, make a living. The neon bible shines above the entryway to their youtube channels and tiktok feeds, while we pass by in the darkness and window-shop. We should be sleeping and dreaming and resting.
There is hope to be found on this album. Not all is lost in this resignation of heart and soul. But I'll let you hunt for it yourself.
Organizational Notes
-readily apparent or mistaken themes/feelings: isolation on the water/the joyful whimsy of escape/not wanting to "go to church" or perhaps not wanting to believe in something that others do/frustration/not being heard by God
-underlying themes I detect and think to be authentic: answering your calling, and not having the control to refuse/the irony in consequences of pursuit of purpose/the urgency and necessity to act/loneliness in fame/committing to the cause no matter/powerlessness/how to be a hope to others
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