my visit to the suburbs

Arcade Fire and I have a tenuous relationship. They follow me around from country to country, occasionally showing up in the distance but never close enough to meet halfway. Their lyrics are heart-breaking to me, a little too engaging for me to fully let in as I do The Swell Season or Morrissey. When I saw that they were going to be in the area, I didn't even think twice about buying tickets. I don't know why - I didn't even hesitate. With most concerts, I'll think about it for a week. I got these within ten minutes of them becoming available.

It was difficult for me to force myself to listen to their music to get myself ready for seeing them live, as their music is something that seeps into my mind every couple of weeks until I listen to Funeral. Then I get really depressed and/or broken-hearted and can't listen to it until the next time it happens. It's a vicious cycle, but one I participate in regularly. Thankfully, one of my coworkers is also a huge Arcade Fire fan and went with me, so I had someone else prepping with me. He's a much bigger fan than I, but having someone else listening to them along with me helped me approach it in a less emotional manner. Or at least a more compartmentalized manner :) We occasionally work ridiculously early together, with me picking him up on the way in as he is only 5 minutes out of my way, and this is the time when we turn on our music. I have different musical taste depending on who I work with, be it Queen when working with The Welshman, Beatles when working with Mininja, or M. Ward when working with B-Coop. With Matt, my music taste is perhaps the most honest - I don't feel awkward turning on my introverted indie music such as The Shins, Arcade Fire, Sondre Lerche, or Belle & Sebastian. Perhaps because he's not picky at all, perhaps because I've had a peek into his music library and have some ammo (samples upon request).

When we squeezed ourselves into my Beetle for the drive out to Columbia from DC, we listened to Spoon (the opening band) to prevent ourselves from overdosing and dying in the resulting fire before we even arrived at the venue. After what seemed like an eternity (due to traffic and Spoon's rather monotonous although energetic and upbeat rhythm) we pulled into the questionable field that is the parking lot of Merriweather Post Pavilion. The line was akin to (as Matt pointed out) summer camp. Except that these campers swore, smoke, drank, and a few smelled somewhat questionable. So. . . yeah, it was like summer camp. We made our way in, obtained Shock-tops, and wandered around for an hour or two. Yes, we were that early. . . but the beer and heat went quickly, and before we knew it Spoon was set to play. We headed toward the pavilion (I spent the extra $8 and got seats instead of sitting on the hill in case of rain) and found the seats we thought were ours, in OO-120s - right in the middle! We cackled at our luck and good seats, setting up camp in the two very uncomfortable aluminum chairs. When someone politely gaped from a few feet away and looked confused (because let's face it, no one's going to get angry if they're going to an Arcade Fire concert. . . they're just not that kind of people), our heroes checked their tickets and with many an apology headed up to their correct seats. . . in the O-120s. Roughly 15-20 rows from the front, and in the center. The two of us cackled louder, and I looked around to see if anyone was going, "AWW, MAN! I WANTED THOSE SEATS!" I'm sure someone was.

I'm going to skip Spoon, as I don't remember too much of them. I liked them so much more live than on recording. My mind was wandering during their set, so you'll forgive me if I don't relate every detail.

After the break between bands concluded, Arcade Fire appeared. When they started, I remember thinking that they sounded. . . good. As I'd expected. Better than on recording, but I expected nothing more. At the end of the second song, the audience started to get into the music. This, for me, was what made the concert. We moved, we danced, we cheered and sang, and the musicians more than created the foundation. They conducted us with every note, every turn of the head, every flip of whatever prop they had on stage, they turned us from a content throng into a celebrating mass. In my concert-going experience, I have rarely been a part of something when I honestly didn't remember the individual songs because I became so caught up what was going on around me, what I was feeling, hearing. The music that usually saps so much out of me energized me, held me up, and instead of feeling broken-hearted, I felt healed. It was as if everyone present pulled us up out of our individual misery and held us together. Arcade Fire was more than an ensemble unto themselves, they were what completed us.

I won't go through the separate songs and their encore ('Keep the Car Running'). Just go see them yourself. Seriously.

The drive back seemed too short. Spent mostly without conversation, we replayed songs we liked or songs we missed, each one enhanced by our memory of the previous hours. Today I can't stop listening to them. I've turned occasionally to The Avett Brothers or The Swell Season for something different, but they seem shallow compared to Arcade Fire.

Do yourself a favor. Go see Arcade Fire at an outdoor venue on a cool evening in August. In the midst of stress, pressure, heart-break, exhaustion, they will encourage you. They will heal you in the way that only a shared music experience can. Let go and allow it to take over. If you don't, you're missing out.