Yesterday, we argued about James Joyce. Today, we talk about the Arcade Fire.

Win has given his blessing to the following transmission, and you can look forward to another amazing track to be posted two amazing tracks have been posted over at Keith's. At last, I can make a proper post about Funeral, my favourite album of 2004-so-far.

Regular readers of Said the Gramophone will be familiar with the Arcade Fire, and my hysteria about them. I've been attending their shows since late 2000 (i think) - I've heard the band learn, grow, flame up and burn out. Two years ago, I wrote a mediocre piece for tangmonkey called "Three Albums To Watch". Forget what I said about Radiohead and Sigur Ros, but the third album on the list of hotly anticipated records was the debut by the Arcade Fire. I spelled Régine Chassagne's name wrong, and I wrote this:

As I listen to The Arcade Fire, their music touches on the sublime: that approach of terror, of true awe, when the music seems enough to overtake you.

But Funeral, which is due this month on Merge, is no disappointment. It reaches the "hallelujah" of the live show, it shakes and shines and roars. The band no longer sounds anything like Neutral Milk Hotel. Now - as Win always spoke of - it's the Talking Heads with pop-song garlands, Neil Young with New Order, rock music that slips through night streets, singing to the stars with long curls of strings. It's rock'n'roll with a bit of Debussy and even some disco stomp. While electric guitars snarl, harps glimmer; while drums thunder, accordions grin. It's music that's brave, earnest, and that yearns desperately to be heard. You can read the biographical info in this excellent Exclaim cover-story, but as Howard says, "The Arcade Fire are not five kids who listened to the same ten indie rock records."

Also, the album itself - the packaging, the liner notes, - is beautiful. Full of craft and spirit and the sort of whimsical flourishes that turn things into treasures.

So. Here are some samples. And I hope that you'll listen to these tracks, buy the record, see them on tour (with the Hidden Cameras or without), and maybe understand what I'm so worked up about. What I meant when I said something as ebullient as this:

this new thing - this awesome, driven, clear-eyed music - is as fine as anything else in the whole world ... It's liver and wholer and smarter. It feels, and it fills, and it's got choruses that you can sing along to.

It's the beauty of a thunderclap, an avalanche, of the earth breaking under your feet. No more do they cajole you: they shake, they threaten, they yell, they plead. "WAKE UP." Parents, children, siblings, lovers, lonelies, human fucking beings - WAKE.

The Arcade Fire - "Tunnels (Neigborhood #1)". My sister says it's the best song she's heard this year. And my sister doesn't say things like that. This is what opens Funeral, the tune that saunters out of the wood, slips into the starting blocks, and then lightnings into your heart. When the high-hats break out between those guitars, that fierce realisation of a destination, there's suddenly magic loose. And when the steel drums ring like synths or The Edge or Joy Division or aurora borealis or something, the chorus becomes a necessity, a truth I need Win Butler to sing. I'm caught up in it, struggling through those snow-tunnels, lying in other peoples' beds and dreaming fearing screaming. He sings of parents - "What ever happened to them?!" - but when he yells it, I hear something different: "WHAT THE HELL WE GONNA DO!?" It's a song to dance to, to sing to ("ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh"), for cresting love or overwhelming faith. And when at 3:20 we hear that bit of the chorus that's never been sung before, that glorious new rise, I feel like a door's opening up in the sky, a bright goldredgreenblue window: "the song I've been trying to say." [pre-order Sept 3]

The Arcade Fire - "7 Kettles (Neighborhood #4)". Funeral is an album of extraordinary breadth - "Power Out" has Modest Mouse's fury, ""Haiti" has the Sugacubes's smoulder, "Une année sans lumière" keeps some U2 gleam. And "7 Kettles" is acoustic guitars and whispering violin, a ballad whose foundation reaches deep into hills, over and across horizons. It could be a song of loneliness, of faith. But it's probably not. "Woo," Win says quietly, like he's calling to his horses. Kettles whistle. "It's not a lover I want no more. And it's not heaven I'm pining for. But there's some spirit I used to know, that's been drowned out by the radio." Some might snark that "7 Kettles" is about the need for indie rock's ascendancy, for Britney's tumble. But that's stupid. No, this is a dream of kindness and soul, a hopesong for art and community and love. Tenderly they play. They hope so deeply, so strongly. They ache so gold. Let's go home, let's find home. Please. [pre-order Sept 3]

At Teaching the Indie Kids to Dance Again, you can listen to the crunch and sparkle of "Laika" - accordion, dissonant-smooth strings, the churn of guitars. (Dig the spooky vox at 1:50.) You must also grab "Crown of Love," one of the album's highest points. It's a half-cracked waltz, a desperate one-two-three into the evening. As the love and heartbreak soar, the strings are suddenly pushing, the drums are kicking up dust, and we're dancing into that imagined future. Hold on to your hat, clutch your chest.

Keith's right about the way that Win's vocals have matured, but it's also worth saying that on two songs, Régine leads the way - heartfelt, insistent, a little otherworldly.

10:17am update: stream some more tracks courtesy of Merge. (via catbirdseat.)
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Word has it that Howard Bilerman, the Arcade Fire's drummer, has left the band. He also helped record Funeral - exceptionally. And he guest-blogged here last week. I'd simply like to thank him again for his kindness, his grace, his work, and his art. Best of luck in everything to come.

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Here is Elsewhere has some snippets of what sounds like a really beautiful remix project -- a Manitoba-like revisitation of the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind soundtrack. RealAudio samples are available.

Finally, as Sean the sell-out, I invite you all to check out Hip-O Select, an mail-order site with all sorts of rarities, imports and classic records. From Abba to James Brown to Fela Kuti. Click on the banner to hear some streamed tunes, and to help my chances for a 20G iPod reward.