Arcade Fire's vital vibe even inspires their fans to improvise
By Nina Garin
STAFF WRITER
April 28, 2007
Some people turn to religion for comfort. Others turn to drink. And somewhere in the middle, there are those who choose the Arcade Fire.
The spirituality that the indie-rock band captures on its latest album, “Neon Bible,” turned even more powerful Thursday night when the group performed at downtown's Spreckels Theatre, where a spontaneous pit broke out.
Throughout its 90-minute set, the 10 musicians used violins, French horns, xylophones, screaming voices, an accordion, a hurdy-gurdy and even a motorcycle helmet to fill the theater with its brand of hauntingly uplifting music.
So it didn't take very long for the intimate Spreckels to turn into a sort of sanctuary, with songs about death and family to soothe the soul.
As soon as the group opened with the first few notes of “Black Mirror,” most of the post-college-age crowd began to sing and dance in the aisles.
This reaction doesn't just happen in San Diego, where the band opened its North American tour that stops at Coachella tonight.
Since Montreal's Arcade Fire released its debut, “Funeral” in 2004, the group has brought creativity and experimentation back to alternative music. David Bowie and Bono are among its fans. Even Lorne Michaels had enough faith to put the relatively unknown band on “Saturday Night Live” recently.
In concert, the band's endless energy is infectious.
Win Butler led the group with his tense singing behind violins and horns, while drummers skipped around the stage banging their sticks on the speakers and the floor.
Every now and then, Butler's wife, Régine Chassagne, would put down her accordion and run off to play keyboards or sit behind the drum kit.
Even in the quieter moments, there was power.
When Chassagne moved around the stage like a flamenco dancer and took over the microphone to sing “Haiti,” her delicate soprano was just as engrossing as all the sights on stage.
So before long, the crowd couldn't just stand in place anymore. A big group rushed the stage just to get closer to the musical ministers.
As the band performed the popular “Neighborhood #3 (Power Out),” a few fans jumped over the barrier so they could dance in the big, empty space between the seats and the stage.
A few minutes later, more people jumped over.
And within a few seconds, the pit area became a tightly packed dance party.
Of course, security stepped in. The men in black showed up halfway through the fiery “Rebellion (Lies)” and tried to usher people back to their seats.
When Butler saw his conclave getting kicked out, he initially urged security, “Hey, don't.” But he quickly realized it would be more effective to just jump in the pit.
So as the violinists played their eerie notes and the drummers banged about, Butler walked through the pit, where his congregation of fans reached out to him as if he were their own personal savior.
If anyone is to take over the musical pulpit, it seems Butler and his fellow Canadians are more than worthy.
Not only are they musically daring, the band is charitable, too.
Before playing “Intervention,” Butler announced that one dollar from every ticket sold would go to Partners In Health, an organization that provides free medical care to people in Haiti.
The band finished its inspiring set singing the low-key “Neon Bible,” while percussionist William Butler tore pages out of a book (the Bible?) in time to the music.
Music, at least for one night, was enough to comfort the band's believers.
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