David Marchese reviews Arcade Fire’s The Suburbs | SPIN

Here are two excerpts from the SPIN article that really struck me – read it in full.

If Arcade Fire’s ragtag debut, Funeral, found its ecstatic force by celebrating the elusive comforts of community (hence four songs with the word neighborhood in the title), and 2007′s aggrieved, galvanizing Neon Bible powered forth in opposition to the hollow sparkle of church, state, and celebrity, then the harder, denser The Suburbs burns on behalf of the belief that modern culture is missing its heart — and to give up the search is to send one’s soul to oblivion.

…

Desperate to elude its own corrosive dread, [The Suburbs] keeps moving, asking, looking, and making the promise that hope isn’t just another spiritual cul-de-sac. After all, you never know who might be coming in the next car.

The National live, for Pitchfork

Cool to be able to see the pieces that make up the wall of sound in Terrible Love.

Matt Berninger told Spinner about the subject. “There is a lot of mental chaos and the character is overwhelmed a lot. Terrible Love, it isn’t necessarily so bad, it’s just about being overwhelmed by this emotion of love, whatever that is, or if you did something wrong to someone you love. There’s a lot of stress and anxiety on there.”

The official video (directed by Tom Berninger) also has some wonderful live footage.

And I can’t fall asleep
Without a little help
It takes awhile to settle down
My ship of hopes
Wait til the past

It takes an ocean not to break

A Ryan Adams song you haven’t heard, but should

For the last while I’ve been deeply smitten, just in deep, deep, smit, with Don’t Get Sentimental On Me from the Elizabethtown Sessions. It’s a bit of a rarity, it turns out, and fairly tricky to get hold of. This live version, though, is extraordinary.

As a vocalist, Ryan Adams is the sound of a brave face. He’s tragic, but he’s never bleak. When his records turn darker (see How Do You Keep Love Alive or Jesus Don’t Touch My Baby), he has the ability to take us with him when he swims around in his despair, without ever letting go of our hands or giving us a reason to want him to.

I know you’re fine
I followed all the lines
Of the dress your lover bought you
And these drinks turn into maps
Of places we will never go
But for once don’t get sentimental on me