Review by Glynn Bird

Arcade Fire are unusual. They are independent in the  true sense of the word; they write their own material, produce their own albums, own their publishing rights and have a self-destrutive attitude to their own profitability. They rebuff offers of lucrative sponsorship and advertising offers. By their own admission, they were skint as The Suburbs hit the shops in August 2010.

The Suburbs is a concept album, with the clue in the title. It is brighter than the bleak Neon Bible and more tuneful than the fêted debut Funeral. It takes a few listens to get the full appeal of the album, perhaps due to it being spread over sixteen tracks but once the songs have worked their magic, it will be on repeat.

The band are doing festivals and large arenas this year, but their sound isn’t stadium-friendly in the way that Coldplay’s is, it just has a grandeur and largesse that a smaller stage can’t contain. Arcade Fire know how to move their audience with musical swells, tempo changes and shifting dynamics. As well as having an enviable live reputation, their songs survive the recording process to produce memorable and moving pop songs.

While the soundscape is epic, the subject matter is deeply personal; family, kids, neighbourhood, streets, housing, growing up and youth are frequently referenced. It is unashamedly sentimental in it’s depiction of small-town North America.

The audio is deliberately unpolished, with each track having been mastered to 12″ vinyl before being played back and digitally recorded before publishing to CD. This is the length our Canadian friends go to achieve an “authentic” analogue sound. Win Butler’s voice is expressive and melodic with shades of John Lennon on Deep Blue.

Crank up the volume and lose yourself.

• Arcade Fire
• Arcade Fire live in New York

In 1994, Elliott Smith was joint lead-vocalist with forgotten indie rockers Heatmiser when he decided he had songs which were best recorded as solo material. Recorded in hissy lo-fi, on a four-track Roman Candle was born. With four unnamed songs and a distinct home made feel, Roman Candle contains song demos that we’re never given the full studio treatment.

Two further “acoustic” albums were to follow, marking out Smith at the vanguard of a minimalist, singer-songwriter movement where artistry and song-craft trumps studio gloss every time. His delicate songs, deftly picked on acoustic guitar, harmonica and occasional brushed percussion have been carefully and sympathetically remastered to lessen noise and fretboard squeaks without altering the original mix.

Smith would later be nominated for an Oscar for a song he contributed to the Good Will Hunting soundtrack, adding two more studio albums before tragically committing suicide during the production of  From a Basement on the Hill, awash with substance abuse problems and depression.

Roman Candle, remains an Elliott Smith classic with trademark double-tracked vocals, virtuoso guitar and low-fi chic.

Charlotte Gainsbourg’s 2006 album 5:55 saw her collaborate with Jarvis Cocker, Neil Hannon, Air and producer Nigel Godrich. This time on IRM she chooses only one muse, Beck. IRM is the French acronym for Magnetic Resonance Imaging, the equipment used to save her life after a brain haemorrhage following a water skiing accident.

Musically, Beck introduces loops, strings and syrupy treated vocals while Gainsbourg switches between a breathy French whisper and nervous English recital. One suspects that the Beatles White Album is high on both protagonist’s playlists, with double-tracked vocals, reverse loops and glass onions.

At its best, the collaboration yields delights such as the poppy Heaven Can Wait, remixed by Grizzly Bear’s Chris Taylor for its single release, and Time of the Assassins and the delicious waltz In The End.

• Charlotte Gainsbourg Official Website
• IRM on iTunes

Stephen Duffy is almost a complete stranger to commercial success. In the early eighties, he found a flicker of fame under the sobriquet Tin Tin“with the hits Kiss Me and Icing on the Cake. He didn’t care for it.

After that, he has been hired by a plethora of record companies and then promptly dropped after sales proved to be disappointing. He’s tried being Duran Duran, Stephen “Tin Tin” Duffy, Dr Calculus, The Lilac Time, Stephen Duffy, Duffy, Stephen Duffy and the Lilac Time. All failed to bother the charts – at least not while he was in the band.

Duffy gives the impression that he didn’t perhaps try his hardest at the promotion and PR game; he doesn’t tour, is rarely found in print, can’t afford videos. He just shrugs in self-deprecation. The only ventures that seem to have resulted in substantial PRS cheques are collaborations with the Bare Naked Ladies and Mr Bob Williams Esq., the latter resulting in millions of CD sales.

If you have a Lilac Time or Stephen Duffy record in your collection, you probably heard of it via word-of-mouth and if you’re like me, you find yourself in the possession of finely-crafted, beautiful music that almost no-one else has heard of.

So at the 30-year mark in his music career, Duffy has produced a film and retrospective compilation album entitled Memory and Desire: 30 Years in the Wilderness with Stephen Duffy & The Lilac Time. The film is part of the Raindance Film Festival and the album is released this week. In a typical anti-commercial piece of curation, the album omits all his singles and instead promotes several b-sides, extra tracks and other ‘hidden gems’.  His biggest hit, Kiss Me, is re-recorded as a funereal dirge.

This shouldn’t put you off. The two-disc set is festooned with unknown delights like An Open Book, the shuffling autobiography of Twenty Three and the Cohen-esque The Postcard. Duffy’s rich melodic delivery is bolstered by exotic acoustic arrangements and sweet harmonies. Lyrically, he is a beat-poet John Betjeman.

Now sporting a terrific beard, Duffy hopes to sweep to obscurity by returning to the charts at #75, “but no higher”. With a carefree shrug of the shoulders he can then move on to make a new album of unmarketable classics.

Which no-one will buy.

• The Lilac Time on Wikipedia
• The Lilac Time Official Site
• Listen to Memory and Desire on Spotify