A few weeks ago, a large group of uniformed Canadians took Primavera Sound by storm. There were secret stunts, preceded by a drip-drop of clues. There were wordless sing-alongs, fueled by deep earnestness. There were jumpsuits and bomber jackets, emblazoned with fake corporate logos. It was—what else?—the launch of another Arcade Fire album cycle.

Like their former mentor David Bowie, AF have shifted their aesthetics to reflect their ballooning aspirations. This new stuff is sending a strong message, and that message is, “We want to save the world.” It is an ironically anti-capitalist play from a band that reminds us, maybe unintentionally, that even our most pious artists are businesses now. And it’s a far cry from the modest wardrobe they showed up in, more than a decade ago. From then to now has been a harrowing journey through armbands bought in bulk, an unjust quantity of epaulets, pretty OK dresses, papier mâché replicas of their own heads, and a mirrored suit that takes Reflektor’s concept a little too literally. Let’s have a look, in jest of course.

2004: Funeral

Mick Hutson

Photo by Mick Hutson/Getty Images

The unassuming band releases Funeral, a rollicking debut recorded as four of its members grieve deaths in the family. This is made clear not only by the title but also because they burst forth from the blogs looking like Dexys Midnight Runner in Sunday-best thrifts. Projecting a homespun whimsy, their aesthetic signature is taking a bland piece of clothing and embellishing it with something shiny. (Which has absolutely nothing to do with the sound of their music, no.)

2007: Neon Bible