LaRM day 16 (Arab Strap-Archers of Loaf)

So, here we go, lots more Arab Strap, starting with 1998's Philophobia. Well, as the title suggests, it's more bleak examinations how attempts to forge real relationships are doomed to failure. Musically Philiophobia is a leap forward from The Week Never Starts Round Here, it's much crisper and concentrated, and there's a real sense of purpose and clarity to the tunes this time round. There's even, gasp, some melody. It's all still dour as all get-out though, and lyrically Aidan Moffat has refined his mumbled horror show of low-rent life, but it still feels just too trite. I really think that the whole thing would have benefited enormously by having lyrics that didn't so obviously and, frankly, tediously suit the music. And the same goes for follow-up, Elephant Shoe (1999), although to be fair, there are finally a few chinks of light showing through the misery and the whole record reaps great rewards from not doing the same thing all over again (granted the change is minimal both lyrically and musically, but it's enough to evidence a tonal shift). In my opinion Elephant Shoe is probably as good as Arab Strap ever got and it really is a fine record. Then we skip a few albums that I haven't got, to their final effort, The Last Romance (2005). On the whole this is a very different beast to the earlier records, it's a lot brisker, livelier, energetic, while still being bloody grim. It's certainly an easier listen than the first three albums but I'm not sure that makes it better, and although it draws you in much more readily, I don't think it bears comparison with Elephant Shoe.

Now here's something very different - it's the Talking Heads-alike Arcade Fire, starting off with the self-titled EP from 2003. This is, I assume, some well-recorded demo songs, as it doesn't have the rigorous intensity of the albums and there are some spooky cues as to just where the influences lie - why does Regine Chassagne do a funny Dawn French style ("shhh, be kwy-at") Bjork impression for instance? A couple of the songs here are pretty forgettable ('Old Flame', 'Woodlands National Anthem') but the rest really are fantastic, giving a clear indication of what grandstanding would follow with a little bit more cash and studio time at their disposal. It's no surprise that they would revisit 'No Cars Go' later on, it really is a cracking tune. Obviously there's not much to say about Funeral (2004) that hasn't been said by everybody in the world. It's a fabulous, emotionally draining but ultimately uplifting record which really does capitalise on its absurdly grand ambitions. It really should be utterly laughable because it's so earnest and so big, but it isn't laughable, it's wonderful. One negative note though, a record so brutally overexposed can't sustain the passage of time that it would otherwise have managed with less constant trumpeting, and to listen to it now one can't help but hear a record that weirdly doesn't quite match the insanely high opinion one used to hold of it.

For me, that's the highlight been and gone because I really can't get on with The Neon Bible (2007). For a start its title is too revealing and suggestive of a surprising lack of imagination or internal logic. One of the things that made the Arcade Fire so special, I think, was the sense that despite influences showing themselves, it felt as if the band existed in their own right, in a kind of insular and inward looking universe which resonated with the listener's without actually crossing over it in any way. Naming their second album after a novel (referred to as a "coincidence" by Win Butler - yeah, right) gave the lie to that idea and meant that the anguished and strained emotional pretence of The Neon Bible seemed to me to be something of a put on, an act. The church organs and miserablist song titles seem like schtick to me and I find the whole dirgy record something of a chore to listen to. The Suburbs (2010) is a real step back up in my opinion but if anything it demonstrates just how far away from Funeral the band are now, and there is still the lingering sense of a kind of "give the audience what they want" about it. There are some fantastic songs on The Suburbs but it certainly does not need to go on for more than an hour and, a bit like the crushing feeling when REM became unlistenable, I miss the feeling that there were millions of people around the world, all exactly the same, but all feeling that this was their band because only they understood.

And finally it's a record by previous Pavement rip-off merchants Archers of Loaf. It's their second, Vee Vee from 1995, and it's clear that the Pavement comparisons from the first album had stung a bit because, although still boasting plenty of Pavementisms, Vee Vee is very different. From the terribly corny cover photo of young woman with car to the hard rock stylings of the songs, this is not really your bog-standard wannabe indie fare. But something very odd is happening with this stuff, because, just as the cover photo is taken from a very peculiar angle, the rock songs are full of really strange staggering, stumbling guitar work and there's a really singular idea of what "rock" is supposed to be like. The end result is a weirdly endearing and really interesting and likeable record, that far surpasses what seemed likely to follow Icky Mettle.

And there were have it. Tomorrow there will be lots of Arctic Monkeys. Them was good days at the Brit School, with little Kenzie with his beaming face.