Snarky Behavior

The Genius of Arcade Fire

October 11, 2007 · 3 Comments

I don’t have a very refined taste in music.  That is to say, I’m not, by any stretch of the imagination, a “music enthusiast” (a euphemistic term I created for my roommate Andrew because “hipster” chaffed him so much).

For that reason I don’t usually pontificate on my opinions of music.  My reference knowledge is shallow, my history somewhat embarrassing, and my preferences extremely embarrassing (I had to clear my “most played” folder on iTunes to knock Kelly Clarkson from pole position… now it’s Too $hort, Andre Nickatina, and Mac Dre).

While I’m not an “early adopter” of music, and tend to stay within the realm of familiarity, I do take some pride in being able to recognize good, important music when I hear it.  And Arcade Fire’s Neon Bible is good, important music.

I’m not necessarily new to the party about Arcade Fire… I’ve listened to them casually without being particularly cognizant of just how outrageously popular and successful they had become.  They toured New York this past weekend and I was actually surprised to find some fairly yuppie people chattering on about how excited they were for a band I thought was popular only amongst Brits and indie-types.

Continuing on this “generational divide” bent I’ve been on of late, while we let ourselves be categorized as self-obsessed, self-entitled, narcissistic know-it-alls by our parents’ generation, it’s Arcade Fire that is resonating with us: collectivizing our frustrations, our cynicisms, our impotent despondencies in the face of hierarchical and bureaucratic authorities, our impatience and annoyance with assuming control from a generation that in many ways, has proven poor stewardship over the world we must inherit.

Listen to the words of Windowsill, and know our generation:

Don’t wanna give ‘em my name and address,
Don’t wanna see what happens next,
Don’t wanna live in my father’s house no more.

I don’t wanna live with my father’s debt,
You can’t forgive what you can’t forget,
I don’t wanna live in my father’s house no more.
Don’t wanna fight in a holy war,
Don’t want the salesmen knocking at my door,
I don’t wanna live in America no more.
‘Cause the tide is high,
and it’s rising still,
And I don’t wanna see it at my windowsill.

So, Tom Friedman… if one day you’re going to write about how your generation is passing the financial buck on the war it decided upon, and the next day you’re going to criticize American youth for not participating in public demonstrations of protest…. well perhaps you’re answering your own question.

Did I mention I no longer take him seriously? 

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3 responses so far ↓

  • Joe // October 11, 2007 at 4:59 am | Reply

    Am I one of the ‘yuppie people’ mentioned who was ‘chattering’ about them? Did I mention that the band rolled up to this tiny brunch place that I had breakfast at on Sunday? And that I told them I loved them because I do? It made me want to move back to the Big Apple.

  • Jon // October 11, 2007 at 3:46 pm | Reply

    I meant more Ed. And that’s freaking awesome. And yes, you should move back here…. we’ll do Turkish baths every day to rest after a hard days work slinging yayo in Queens.

  • Generation Overwhelmed « Snarky Behavior // October 23, 2007 at 7:31 am | Reply

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