The Arcade Fire live!

The Arcade Fire
Chicago Theatre, Chicago
Friday, May 18, 2007

Toward the end of the first night of a three-night stand, Arcade Fire frontman Win Butler made a rather crafty, self-conscious joke: “Well, we’ll see you tomorrow night!” Part of it was disbelief he could sell-out such a hall for a weekend; the other half was knowing most of the same people would be in attendance.

As an indie rocker, Butler’s well aware his band’s success has come out of the pockets of some pretty ardent fans. They’re a good family but one who don’t see the reason to make a living in the big city when there’s a nice patch of land right here. It’s a tightrope act weighed down by the burden of having to choose between loyalty and branching out. Realizing the Chicago Theatre is not the Empty Bottle — where Arcade Fire held court for two nights over Thanksgiving 2004 — the band introduced a more professional performance that actually helped expose some fragile layers.

Boosted by a pair of well-above-average albums, Arcade Fire’s buzz has been aided by “Yes, but they’re a whole other beast in concert.” At Lollapalooza 2005, the members ran amok on the stage, banging on all manner of props including motorcycle helmets worn by fellow bandmates. The chaos never devolved into spectacle because it augmented the songs’ shivering energy. When news spread another three members would be added for the 2007 tour, those memories were expected to be vanquished: someone was about to let the inmates out.

On Friday, however, the matter-of-factness of their presence was startling. The Arcade Fire triumphantly entered down Chicago Theatre’s center aisle, goosing the audience’s anxiety further, yet subtlely stepped back once in full view. Opening with the first two cuts off their sophomore album, Neon Bible (Merge), the band’s nonchalance stood in contrast to the looming danger of “Black Mirror” and the Eddie & The Cruisers-ish “Keep The Car Running.”

When the Springsteen-like boogie of “Antichrist Television Blues” failed to spark the imaginary powder keg, alarm flags started to rise and Butler’s rather dreary focus on religion oddly manifested itself as a conservative streak. (The stage design was partially to blame, visually awesome as it was. Cameras re-broadcast real-time footage of the band onto several black-and-white screens while five color-changing light sticks seemed to place a stifling frame over them — if any of them moved, it would have ruined the effect.)

Diving into their Funeral debut via “Haiti” and “Laika” managed to stir their fans more than Butler and co., though in one sense it helped boil the band down (even though it was bigger) to something more digestible. Songs were coming alive instead of having their veins pumped full of amphetamines.

While the punkish ferocity was missed, it helped “Rebellion (Lies)” and “My Body Is A Cage” unfurl at their own paces. Manic energy was exchanged for dramatic tension, and even the impish Régine Chassagne reined herself in to the team concept. The trick paid off when The Arcade Fire played the closest thing they have to a hit, “Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels).” Its opening notes were met with a tremendous roar, but it seemed rallying point on the way to the acme.

It’s relatively difficult to quantify the growth between the albums Funeral and Neon Bible; it’s unmistakable between Arcade Fire 2005 and 2007.

— Steve Forstneger

Category: Live Reviews, Weekly