Our night opens with a moogy synth washing over us like the loudest massage you’ve ever had. Win Butler’s unmistakable voice announces, “Welcome to Pink Elephant,” as billowing curtains and fog are cut through by pink and purple laser work. There’s a five-minute frenzy of—what is it? Is it anything? Is this a song? Régine Chassagne steps on stage to cheers, wearing a hat with strings of pearls cascading down. Like an aristocratic jellyfish. Win walks on to cheers. Like a giant holding aloft an axe—but the axe is a guitar, and his axe doesn’t chop down, it chops up.
Thematically, where is Arcade Fire right now? I’m not sure. It’s early in the tour, but I get the feeling this is a group that wants to move forward, get on with it. A frontman that moves hesitantly on stage and in speech, for maybe the first time. And a family of bandmates looking beyond all circumstances to continue the legacy of the music.
So let’s get on with that.
Opening with Pink Elephant’s title track—uh, it’s nice. Following that up with Season of Change—uh, yeah, it’s fine. So far, the start feels slow. But it’s not unpleasant. Circle of Trust boosts the energy a bit, with its Blue Monday meets Funky Town vibe. Hey, they must want to play the new songs! Who would figure?
I’m enjoying Régine being more of the frontwoman than usual. Win can really dominate the skyline—it isn’t hard, he’s 7’11”. Everyone in the band has so much personality, really. But it’s pretty glorious seeing her bouncy hair silhouetted as she pirouettes and sashays.
The staging, while very cool, is also kind of understated. The three huge clouds overhead play video. I should have seen that coming. The stage set almost looks like a grade school production got interrupted by Kanye West—I’ma let you finish, but these pink curtains and clouds need the best lasers of all time! Ugh… intrusive thoughts. Why bring Kanye into this? I was enjoying myself. Also, that reference is so old.
Alas, the first half hour of this show is sort of flat. There are good ideas, such as playing with spotlights and moving the curtains—thereby changing the feeling of the set to suit the song. But the song choice is sending concertgoers to the bar. Well, that’s a success for the venue at least! And L’Olympia is a great venue. It packs a lot of people, but it still feels like you’re with a big group of friends. And apparently, it’s just a few blocks away from where The Suburbs was recorded! But yeah, this isn’t the Arcade Fire of old so far.
I’m also trying to understand the link between Pink Elephant and organ wash chords that take a minute between songs. I mean, I’m not just here for Arcade Fire to trot out the hits—I believe the new record is strong—but to frontload it so heavily, when it could be easily weaved in and out of a set while keeping people engaged, that’s beyond me. And frankly, it’s making me sleepy.
And just like that—it was over. I think. We’re an hour into the show. Seems weird to end there, but they all walked off. Oh, it was just a break. Well, it was a weird break. They didn’t call it a break or say much…
When the band comes back, it becomes clear the Pink Elephant is gone. And they’ve moved past the feeling again. I guess you can’t keep an elephant in a suburb. But I’d like to see them try. At any rate, the crowd has new life! People are dancing in any space they can create.
And the hits rolled on: Ready to Start, Rebellion, Keep the Car Running, Rabbit Hole, Afterlife, The Sprawl,—dang it, these songs are so catchy. Régine should retroactively be added to the Discovery-era Daft Punk band. She’s so perfect. She sounds every bit the princess beyond category, singing The Sprawl, stalking us from aloft the monitor at the front of the stage like a ship’s captain hurling insults at the sea to “bring me the horizon!”
Everything Now gets a real and shocking amount of love. I remember loving it when it came out but thinking it wasn’t being received well. So it’s great to me that it’s such a party jam. The wild age, creed, race, and gender mix of the crowd seem incredibly engaged.
As the evening is winding down, it doesn’t wind down as much as spin up. “Wake Up,” people. They wrote this on the mother-flippin’ corner of St. Denis, mother flippers. I lightly edited that phrase for you all mother-flippin’ sensitives out there—of which I am one. Cursing is beneath us.
Ah well, another wonderful Arcade Fire hometown show in the books. I reflect on the band and how connected it is to this city and, of course, to Haiti. And I just can’t shake that Arcade Fire changed everything. They took Montreal’s melting pot, put it on a stage, and brought it to the world without diluting it for mass consumption—and still, they reached the masses. By being themselves. And come on, bands are not the same anymore. You want a dedicated layer of violin in every song you can feel more than truly hear? Good, do that, because it feels amazing live or in your bed. You want multi-instrumentalists swapping guitars for glockenspiels mid-song? Or whacking each other on the head with mallets with no mics set up anywhere near anyone? Do it. Do it now!
The freedom in the anthems lives in the players. The band is a vessel of individual creativity and inspiration. And now, every band you see is somehow indebted to that—if you think about it enough. Or you could just ask any band. They would think about it, and if honest, they would have an award to give to Arcade Fire.
We give them the award of being ours. We love them. We, as Montrealers, are ride or die for this band.
I would say: mix the new songs into the rest of the hits in the set, announce them proudly, and you’ll have another incredible tour in the books. 6/10. Can’t wait to see them again.
Review – Mike Rogers
Photos – Eric Brisson
