There’s a moment on the electro-clash infused Reflektor where the albums entire Raison D’être is revealed — over a haunting synth and jazzy sax Arcade Fire Frontman — Win Butler, reveals that he inhabits a world filled with people whose idea’s are almost alien to himself and his own. That he feels that despite everything he has done — this is still their world and there is no escape from the way they see the world — and that their lusts and sins define it.

Little boys with their porno/ Oh, I know they hurt you so / But They don’t know that we know/ Never know what we know/ But this is their world

Where can we go?/ Little boys with their porno/ Makes me feel like something’s wrong with me/ But It’s the only world we know/

In a way the track connects directly with the sentiments displayed on previous albums Funeral, Neon Bible, and The Suburbs — all classic albums revolving around the sense of belonging to a world that is quite not your own. From seminal track Rebellion(Lies) to Neon Bible’s Intervention and The Suburb’s Sprawl II — Arcade Fire’s narrative has always focused on being part of a world that is alien to one’s own feelings. In many ways their Fifth Album — Everything Now has not strayed from that sentiment.

These feelings may be rooted in Win Butler’s upbringing — born to a Mormon mother and somewhat raised in the faith. As he noted in an interview with the Guardian in 2010:

“I’m not practicing, I don’t go to church, but what I got from it was a sense of belonging to something bigger. What I really miss is being forced to be in a community with people that aren’t the same as you. Then, you really have to work through the ways that you’re different. I think that’s important and it’s missing in youth culture. I guess some of the songs are a reaction against the tyranny of youth culture, where you only hang around with people who dress like you, think like you and listen to the same music as you. Even though we are seen as the quintessential indie band, I feel very far from that culture a lot of the time.”

Often times Win has brushed off the Indie Hipster community in his songs. With mocking tributes appearing on tracks such as The Suburb’s Rococo or Reflektor’s Normal Person. Until now these attacks have mostly gone ignored by the community he is often seen as representing. The later track featuring quips such as “If that’s what’s normal now/ I don’t want to know” the former — almost presciently reflects that “They build it up just to burn it back down.”

It should be no surprise then to anyone who follows the band that their fifth album expand on these themes even further — which has caused a probably somewhat historic backlash from the Indie community still suffering whiplash from living in Donald Trump’s America.

“They offer no Answers!” Is one common trope trotted out. “They are cynical and cold.” other reviewers have offered. Lost in the heated anger is the strange fact that while the music may not be as well crafted as in the past — thematically Everything Now hits every note that your traditional Arcade Fire album does.

Opening to a electronic piano-ballad and Disco inspired track. Everything Now starts off with Win reflecting an increasingly pessimistic state of mind. “I’m in the Black again/can’t make it back again.” before launching into a observational about the modern world. Everything Now fits into the formula laid out by many of Arcade Fire’s other great tracks. It’s somewhat pessimistic lyrics are contrasted by joyous cinematic instrumentals. The track samples the Francis Bebey song The Coffee Cola Song which features the refrain

“There are people in town man, crazy people in town Eating bread and butter and honey, and drinking black coffee and cola They believe we are wild man, Just because we don’t use any money, and we drink no coffee cola But if you could go and see how they live (ashamed ashamed) Then, you discover how savage they are, so much wilder than we”

Similarly Win Butler pleads with the audience to, “Stop Pretending You Have Everything Now.” Arcade Fire’s track seems to reflect Coffee Cola’s sentiments about a savageness hiding behind the modern world’s glittering facade. I’m reminded of Charlie Chaplin’s famous speech from The Dictator — with it’s plea to avoid “Machine Minds and Machine Men.”

That track outlines what is to be a complete assault on modern culture and technology continuing with Signs of Life — a track that thematically echoes Porno or Blur’s Girls & Boys. If Anna Wood of The Quietus claims that Win is “a huffy bloke who thinks he’s wry and wise when he tells you about how staying out late every night is bad” or that he thinks “Love is hard, sex is easy” she reflects “You’re doing it wrong, mate” although she couldn’t be more right about her former sentiments. How could Win think otherwise? He connects sex with the spiritual — “I’ve got to see you/Hear your sacred sighs.” he states on Porno. The concept is yes — that sex is something more meaningful than just a physical act.

This is a morally firm notion when contrasted with the age of Everything Nowish sensory overload. In a way I feel it echoes the sentiments of some modern artists like Kendrick Lamar whose tracks like Lust and Keisha’s Song explore similar themes — albeit addressing his own community. On his Breakthrough album good Kid, m.A.A.d city Kendrick reflects and responds to his critics in verses 2–3 of Sing About Me. When Anna reflects that “There is something dangerous about supporting what is comfortable and lazy without ever challenging anything that is uncomfortable or complicated” the irony of her statement does not dawn on her. When she states that “this album is exactly what none of us needs right now” she reveals how little she is prepared to step outside her own comfort zone — or take Arcade Fire’s message at face value or examine her own life.

That’s where the criticism of this album seems to fall apart. As the album moves through Creature Comfort — a reggae dancehall track about Teenage Suicide and the impact of Snapchat and Instagram on the modern psyche — I’m stricken at how much the advent of social media has insulated people to their own lifestyles. These feedback loops are referenced all over the album — but seem to have been recreated almost perfectly by the polarized response to it.

But there’s nothing new here beyond technique and music style. The themes and points Arcade Fire make on the album are the same kind they’ve been making their entire career. One would wonder if the reviewers of Funeral had been Parents their responses would be the same. Or the reviewers of Neon Bible pastors. Or the reviewers of The Suburbs had been Real Estate agents.

The album clocks in at 14 tracks. Many memorable and emotionally impactful — ranging from criticisms of America (Peter Pan) to Corporations (Chemistry), tribute tracks (Electric Blue), religion (Good God Damn), to love (Put Your Money On Me) and despair (We Don’t Deserve Love). But they all fit in thematically with Arcade Fire’s Modus Operandi.

There is a certain level of unreasonableness in the response from the music review community that has revealed a very big hole in their claims to professionalism. One could almost posit that maybe the entire goal of the album was to reveal their weaknesses and insecurities by eliciting this sort of very personal backlash. If that was the goals it has succeeded and in many ways the organizations like Pitchfork that influenced heavily to the rise of Arcade Fire through their reviews may have in a somewhat ironic way had any facade of professionalism or trustworthiness destroyed by Arcade Fire’s latest Album. It’s a ending fit for a play.