Monday, February 25, 2008

The Arcade Fire

The Arcade Fire’s trajectory from Indie obscurity to popular acclaim is a rock-and-roll fairy tale. Once upon a time, Win Butler left Texas suburbia for snowy Canada. There, in the ivory towers of McGill University, he met the pixiesque chanteuse, Régine Chassagne. One day, Win attended Régine’s jazz concert and awed by her vocal talent, convinced her to start a band. They fell in-love, of course. In one year’s time, Win and Régine assembled a seven-person band, exchanged vows, and brokered a deal with Merge Records. The band completed “Funeral” in 2004 and the album blew everyone—Pitchfork, U2, Chris Martin, etc.—away. Three years later “Neon Bible” debuted at No. 2 and garnered stellar reviews from critics. Having successfully eluded the sophomore curse, Win, Régine and the rest of Arcade Fire are poised to live happily ever after.


“Funeral” is a ten-track lament that eulogizes people, places and various concepts without being overly maudlin. One sees this in “Haiti,” the album’s eighth track. The bilingual (French/English) song alludes to Reginé’s family’s flight from the island, then under Duvalier’s dictatorship. The image of an idyllic Haitian beach is summoned by the soothing sound of waves at the beginning of the song and instead of focusing on vengeance, the lyrics focus on the refugee’s triumphant spirit; on homecoming instead of leaving home: “Rien n’arrete nos espirits (Nothing stops our spirits). Guns can’t kill what soldiers can’t see.”

“(In the Backseat)” is the final track and also “Funeral’s” emotional finale. In the song, the mourner is narrating her ride to a burial while sitting in the backseat. The car is a metaphor for the loss of control one experiences during the grieving process. While the driver has active control over the car, the backseat passenger is just along for the ride. The instrumentation supporting Régine’s delicate and sometimes breathless voice is especially powerful in this track. Also, Sara Neufeld plays the violin with a poignancy that pushes the strings to the forefront alongside the vocals. As the song progresses, more instruments are added and Régine’s voice gets louder, and by the end of the song, Régine crescendos to breaking point. Her vocals in the outro (the ooh, ooh, oohs) are haunting—a wailing sound symbolizing emotional overflow. The band is weeping for themselves and for anyone who has ever lost a loved one.


Contrasting with “Funeral’s” straightforward lyrics and storytelling is “Neon Bible’s” dense symbolic imagery. Water is a leit motif used to explore weighty subjects, and to borrow the band’s chosen theme, emotional gulfs. In five out of the eleven tracks, the singer (usually Win) sings fearfully about the ocean. For Win, the ocean evokes memories of family sailing trips out on the Texas Gulf Coast. In a recent interview with “New York Times Magazine,” Win spoke about a nightmare he had about being stranded in a boat, out on the ocean, in the middle of the night. Win alludes to this nightmare in “Bad Vibrations/Black Wave.” In the first half of “Bad Vibrations/Black Wave,” Régine sings about the ocean as a means for escape,“We can reach the sea, They won’t follow me,” and as a way to “run from the memory.” While the instrumentation at the beginning of the song has a faster tempo, Win’s solo in the last half is much slower and helps to convey a dire tone. Supported by heavy thumping and an eerie sounding choir, Win’s lyrics in this half shout out a warning, “Stop now before it’s too late…There’s a great black wave in the middle of the sea, for me, for you.”


I first heard Arcade Fire in January of 2005. My friend sent me “Neighborhood #1” over Instant Messenger and after listening to the song a few times, I typed out a brief review: I was overwhelmed—the accelerando! Piano! Strings! The ooh, ohh, oohs!—I loved it. At that time, the song stirred within me an emotion that I couldn’t quite peg but could only liken to homesickness. To this day, I have a cathartic experience every time I hear or see an Arcade Fire performance and I know that I’m not the only one. The band’s ability to speak to people, to wake them up—aesthetically, politically, and emotionally—make them the most popular Indie-Rock band in the world.


Le Fin


Friday, February 22, 2008

Snowfall in the City


There is nothing more
Jarring -- than hip-hop's booming bass
on a snowy night.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

"Ode to the Mixed Tape"

The last time I made a mixed tape was in 1999. I was a freshman in high school, it was Sunday morning, Casey Kasem was counting down America’s Top 40, and I was waiting for Number One. I was waiting patiently, busying myself with mundane tasks of teenage girldom—cleaning my room, doing some homework, and talking on the phone to whoever my current BFF was at the time. I was waiting for America’s deejay to introduce Number One so that I could add it to my personal audio canon, “Resalin’s Favorite Songs”, my very own, homemade, mixed tape.


I used to make mixed tapes all the time. There was a point in my life when I always had a cued, blank tape in the deck so that when I heard the opening notes of a favorite song, I could sprint to the stereo and simultaneously hit the PLAY and REC button. The audio quality was not so good (but what else was I supposed to do?) The tapes sounded grainy and my cheap stereo did not have the high-tech capability of filtering out background noise so there was always some rustling, talking, or coughing in the background. But the most annoying recording imperfection was the opening screech—I hated that sound. To me, that grinding sound is worse than hearing nails on a chalkboard, as painful to me as chewing tin foil.


I started making mixed tapes in the Philippines. I would record myself talking and singing and then my Nanay (grandmother) would send the tape to my mom who lived in Texas. That’s what we did. While I remember corresponding through letters, packages, and phone, I mostly remember the tapes. They were of course more personal, certainly more time consuming, and definitely more embarrassing. There was always a crowd gathered around the tape recorder, eavesdropping on the one-way communication. It was a performance, like Karaoke but worse because I wasn’t just singing the words that lit up on the screen: I had to come up with your own material. Questions and Insecurities. What would she want to hear from me? What if she thinks I’m boring? What if she doesn’t like my voice?


It has been a long time since I made or gotten a mixed tape. I think the last mixed tape given to me was circa Yanni and “Satellite” from Dave Matthews Band. Even if I wanted to rewind the past a bit to nurture my nostalgic side, I fear that the invention of the compact disc, CD, has made the cassette obsolete. Also, user-friendly programs like iTunes have improved quality and amped up convenience. Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day and there will be thousands…millions of people popping in a mixed CD filled with slow jams, thoughtful acoustic guitar, and heartfelt lyrics. And I’m not a traditionalist; I’ve burned my fair share of mixed CDs and they are one of my favorite presents to give and receive. But my mom is the only person to ever receive a “Resalin” mixed-tape original.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Baby-Mama-Grammy-Drama

The drama preceding the 50th Grammy Awards led to many questions: Who’s attending? Who’s performing? Who’s going to watch? Who’s going to be let into the country? After the most boring and least watched (4.8 Nielsen Ratings) Golden Globes ever, Big Daddy Clive gathered his children and called roll to make sure that viewers had something to see and more importantly, something to listen to. (This is after all, the Grammys.) And the obedient children, with Beyonce and Dave Grohl as the line leaders, marched onto the stage at the Staples Center and delivered a performance to the 17.3 million viewers who tuned in last Sunday night.

My favorite and most moving performer of the night was Kanye West who performed “Stronger” from “Graduation” (2007) and “Hey Mama” from “Late Registration” (2006). His performance was a tribute to his hip-hop and personal heroes. Red flames shot up behind the rapper as he started to flow “Stronger” against Michael Jackson’s “Thriller.” His moves were not Jackson’s but those of a futuristic robot—bending, bobbing, and snapping to the bass—and he repeatedly asked the crowd: “Is this what you’ve been waiting for?”

The mood shifted dramatically when Kanye began “Hey Mama.” When the neon lights receded and the bright-white shades were shed, the lone spotlight focused in on a son who loves and misses his Mama. “Last night I saw you in my dreams, now I can’t wait to go to sleep. And this life is all a dream, so my real life starts when I go to sleep. This life, this night, this Grammys, is all a dream, and my real life starts when I go to sleep. My Mama, Mama, Mama.” The audience gave him a standing ovation.

If I can be so bold as to make a bald statement, it is this: Kanye West will be talked about the morning after any award show he chooses to attend. After the 2006 MTV Europe Music Awards, Ben Sisario of the New York Times called Kanye “a sore loser” when he railed against the panel after losing Best Video, and let’s not forget the time Kanye swore he would “never return to MTV” after losing big (0-5) in the 2007 MTV music awards. Today, the buzz is that Vince Gill, winner of Best Country Album, “dissed” Kanye during his acceptance speech. This is, in my humble opinion, false.

“I just got an award given to me by a Beatle,” Gill said after Ringo Starr handed him the Grammy for his album “These Days.” Gill then said “Have you had that happen to you Kanye? Just kidding.” He was and Kanye knew he was, and he acknowledged Gill’s smartass comment with a smirk. If Kanye thought Gill had meant harm, he would have said something about it: Kanye always does.

Kanye did manage to spit and spin at the podium during his acceptance speech after winning Best Rap Album for “Graduation.” But when Kanye finally got around to thanking his “Mama” (Mrs. West died after cosmetic surgery in 2007), the muzak attempted to cut him off. Pissed at the sound guy, he said, “Now would be a good time to cut the music.” The sound guy heeded the order, Kanye finished his piece, and as he walked away from the podium, the audience got a good view of the words “MAMA” he had shaved into the back of his head.