Sweet Nothings

Arcade Fire have been accused in some quarters of lacking levity, which maybe goes some way towards explaining the promotional bumph for their fourth record – the pseudonyms, the masks, the  bonkers long-form video , and so on. Clearly Reflekor is an attempt to push the boat out musically too, the hiring of James Murphy heralding extended track lengths and an emphasis on beats more than riffs. Win Butler has also talked a lot about how visiting Haiti inspired many of the songs, and how the locals respond to music in a more primal way rather than viewing everything through the Western prism of “rock”. Such comments are on a hiding to nothing really, as a multi-award winning, adored band will never be able to escape their pop-cultural baggage. The best they can do is to throw out some new shapes, mix things up a bit and hope not to lose the qualities that got them here in the first place. It must be said that all this makes far more sense live than on MP3, especially sin...

An inordinate amount of my last few days has been spent in Hyde Park. Wednesday night's appetizer was a 10K race, rescheduled from April thanks to Kate'n'Wills. Just over 54:00 - not too shabby if I do say so myself, and helped by the perfect conditions and nice scenery (only partially spoiled by the sight of a man tumbling into a dirty puddle thanks to an errant cyclist. I swear they do these things on purpose.) There was of course a dirty great artificial barrier blocking off the northern section of the park - erected because we were in the middle of the annual two-week span during which the park temporarily turns into central London's biggest gig venue. The first festival, Hyde Park Calling, had been and gone, but Arcade Fire 's gig was a standalone affair and therefore not quite as corporate. I arrived in time to see The Vaccines , who one has to feel somewhat sorry for. Had they arrived a few years back they could have made a relatively gentle, low-key entry ...

I’ve heard The Suburbs being referred to as a return to form for Arcade Fire, which implies that Neon Bible was somehow a poor album - to me an astonishing accusation. While I wouldn’t objectively try to claim that the latter is better than the wonderful Funeral, the fact is I can listen to the likes of Intervention and No Cars Go over and over with no noticeable diminishment of pleasure. Bold, epic songs dealing with all manner of Big Issues, what’s not to like? Well, seems like some considered those songs to be overblown and empty, which left Arcade Fire in an interesting position - as big a cult band as could possibly be, never likely to break into the mainstream and in slight danger of losing a section of their fanbase, not to mention some of their humanity, due to a perceived excess of grandiosity. However, The Suburbs should satisfy pretty much everybody. Initial signs weren’t too promising. The title track and Month of May were released a couple of months ago, the latter in ...

Whether it’s down to an inferiority complex I’m not sure, but Canadian bands seem to have a thing about size - Arcade Fire, who take to the stage with a cornucopia of members and even more instruments, being the obvious example. Somewhat more of a cult concern, though similarly never knowingly understaffed, are Broken Social Scene , who I’ve now seen twice within the space of a week. Whilst AF have developed an epic sound geared towards the mainstream, and have at the very least become as big a cult band as one can possibly be without “crossing over”, BSS tread a more esoteric path - capable of emitting an almighty noise for sure, but equally likely to break into bouts of noodling interspered with shoegazey vocals. On record this doesn’t always hit the mark for me, their previous albums being a bit too rambling for my tastes. In the flesh, though, you get a much more engaging experience, and after their gig at Heaven on Monday night (which is normally what I imagine must be a ...

Years really do come and go thick and fast as you get older. It's also increasingly difficult to pick out milestones each time, though maybe this is no bad thing. The early part of my 2009 was dominated by fires - two near work and one a bit too near my old flat. Luckily my smoke alarm did its job, luckily these things only come in threes, and luckily I found a new, better flat. Funny how even though Palmers Green is a far less fancy area, and even though I've had problems (broken washing machine, broken boiler) here already, it feels much more like home. I've even put pictures up and everything! It's also helping me do my bit for the environment - and my wallet - by being warm enough, relatively speaking, for me to not have turned the heating on once. Bonus! So then I turned 30, started running, got some glasses, committed to a crazy month-long trip to South Africa next summer, and that's about it. Can't really complain, all in all. And as last days go, today h...

Last night was a tale of two thoroughly disagreeable men getting their just desserts. The Chelsea-Barcelona game was dominated by several borderline penalty shouts, none of which the ref gave Chelsea's way. Statistically the billionaire's boys can count themselves unlucky, but the ref's biggest mistake was sending Eric Abidal off after Monsieur Anelka had quite blatantly tripped himself up. Chelsea were unable to put the 10-man opponents away and paid the ultimate price in the best - and funniest - possible finish. If anyone had any doubts as to why the West Londonders are so roundly despised, they only had to witness the disgraceful petulance of Ballack, Terry and especially Drogba, who could have put the tie to bed if he'd actually finished a chance or not gone down like a sack of shite at the slightest touch. He looked utterly demented after the final whistle with his charging around and hurling abuse at the officials, not to mention the delightful "fucking disg...