REVIEW: Arcade Fire’s “Reflektor” defined by incoherence

It’s very difficult to criticize Arcade Fire, a band that quietly and gracefully became the official sovereigns of indie rock in the 2000s. Since 2004, the band has released three albums, each proving many times over that leading husband and wife Win Butler and Régine Chassagne are two of the decade’s best songwriters. Moreover, the Montreal-based band has shown an astounding talent for producing albums that surpass all peers in terms of cohesive fluidity, playing more like classical symphonies than rock LPs. Other bands make songs — Arcade Fire makes albums.

It may be hard to criticize the indie darlings, but their previous three releases failed to show much variance in musical style or artistic breadth. Rare was the Arcade Fire song that didn’t cling closely to either the archetypes of classic folk rock, early ‘80s new wave, blues-y baroque rock or some mixture of the three. Enter Reflektor, the band’s confused and bizarre answer to such complaints, and an album that does an excellent job of proving that nobody ever should have complained in the first place. Reflektor is a messy cavalcade of disjointed and unrelated genres, and as a result comes nowhere near the epic scale of The Suburbs or Funeral. The album is defined by its incoherence — the lack of a connecting thread between the tracks weighs down the entire release with monotony and tedium. This is all the more disappointing, considering how many of these songs are truly exceptional.

“Reflektor” is wonderfully catchy and continues this year’s trend of disco worship with just the right amount of funk. A better album hook could not a have been written — the interactions between the saxophone, bass and guitar offering up an irresistible “all aboard” to the listener.

“Flashbulb Eyes” offers the first evidence of producer James Murphy, the track oozing with the electronic cacophony Murphy was so famous for as LCD Soundsystem while still retaining the soulful spirit of Arcade Fire thanks to Butler’s painfully sincere vocals.

While at first a bit too pretentious and self-important for anyone with any sense of taste, “Normal Person” eventually reaches a second half that ascends from a lazy air of superiority to a petulant outcry against social norms. The song’s artistry plateaus at the bridge, with Butler angrily whispering, “When they get excited, they try to hide it / Look at those normals go,” as a downright nasty saxophone section ominously slinks its way up the scale until the chorus returns with a furious vengeance, releasing the best bit of built-up tension on the entire album.

“You Already Know” slips dangerously close to banality due to its repetitive lyrics, but redeems itself with a delightful mix of rockabilly guitar structures and shimmering space rock effects. “Awful Sound (Oh Eurydice)” gives the album a much-needed ballad that, in classic Arcade Fire style, begins with minimal instrumentation and simple vocals and then expands relentlessly until the song ends in a full chorus and three guitar parts. “It’s Never Over (Hey Orpheus)” offers another side of the album, being Reflektor’s best-realized rock song: immaculate and catchy guitar hooks and sparkling ‘80s synthesizers throughout. The track offers the most genuine and touching duet on the album, Chassagne’s counter-melody and call-and-repeat structures perfectly balancing Butler’s pained and melodramatic groaning.

Don’t be deceived by the praise for these tracks — a list of good songs does not make an album. Reflektor suffers from the band taking too many ambitious chances. Arcade Fire tried to incorporate too many genres and styles into one album. But instead of performing smooth genre fusion within each song, the band made each song wildly different, practically destroying any grace or flow within the structure of the record as a whole.

The album switches from disco to new wave to alternative to electronic to Haitian rara to post-punk and back again — and that’s only the first half! There is only one coherent transition on the entire album, between “Awful Sound” and “It’s Never Over.”

“Joan of Arc” doesn’t even know what kind of song it wants to be and drags on without any spirit or purpose. “We Exist” ruins the momentum of “Reflektor” with a groove that doesn’t seem half bad until the realization comes that you’re only one minute into a five-minute song. “Porno” doesn’t belong anywhere on the album, existing mostly as James Murphy’s bastard lovechild with the band, an LCD Soundsystem original as performed by Arcade Fire. “Here Comes The Night Time II” and “Supersymmetry” would benefit from switching places, the former’s reprisal only being as powerful as it is distanced from its Part I. Might as well cut the obnoxiously empty second half of “Supersymmetry” while we’re at it — that schlock will be boring no matter where it shows up.

Worst of all, Reflektor obstinately refuses to do what Arcade Fire’s three previous releases did so well: to tell a story. Rather than keeping tight and concise emotional overtones, Reflektor dances all over the place with little regard to the setup of the songs that came before or the direction of the songs that come next, songs that are often spectacular and wildly creative, as well as jolly good fun — songs that deserve better.

Luckily for Arcade Fire, the said songs will likely make sure that the album is an acclaimed hit. Maybe that’s fair, though. Considering all of the terrible albums out there, Reflektor is the best worst album to be produced in a long time.