It's all just a delusion, anyway

A conversation from earlier today, not particularly memorable, but I still remember it (note: we're talking about the Montreal band called The Arcade Fire and their sensational album, Funeral):

Delia True: Wow, that Arcade Fire album. I could listen to it over and over again in a straight jacket. It never gets old!

Christy Crunch: (yawn) Yeah.

DT: Amazing!

CC: Yeah.

DT: What is it about that album that’s so good? I can’t quite…

CC: Put your finger on it?

DT: Yeah, how’d you know?

CC: (silence)

DT: So what do you think it is? The rock critic consensus hasn’t been this strong since OK Computer! And I haven’t met one person who has listened to this album and doesn’t like it…

CC: Nobody wants to admit it.

DT: Yeah, but it might be kind of hip if someone came right out and said, ‘You know, I hate Funeral. It’s fuckin’ overrated. In other words, it’s a pompous and self-indulgent piece of excrement passed off as the greatest rock album of the millennium, when all it really does is splatter emotional desperation all over a pretentious, orchestral canvas.’

CC: That kind of sounds like praise…praise that sounds a little too much like an interpretation of a Jackson Pollack painting.

DT: You’re right. I’m incapable of finding anything negative to say. I’ve heard the argument that Win Butler’s voice is kind of freaky, but I love it. I love Funeral.

CC: It’s a classic.

DT: Yeah, but I can’t help believe that the most brilliant, beloved classics are also most susceptible to investigative criticism.

CC: Not Funeral.

DT: Especially Funeral. Has anyone really gone in deep as to why this album is so amazingly, phenomenally, ground-breakingly, radically, perfectly goddamn fucking hella good? It’s all superfluous surface marketing. But there’s something else there. Nobody’s really tackled the Funeral mystique. Nobody’s ever taken a knife to the album's insides to find out exactly why it moves us.

CC: I know what you’re thinking. Don’t do it.

DT: Don’t do what?

CC: I’m warning you. Don’t go there.

DT: Where?

CC: Look, I’m gonna be straight up with you. Your blog has inexplicably changed in the past three months. Better, worse, I don’t know, but it’s as if you’re finally starting to give a shit about the people who read this, as if they really care. Definitely not a good thing…

DT: Well, that may be true. But I don’t see how writing in-depth criticism of one of the most favorably reviewed albums of 2004 is going to make it any worse.

CC: You’ve got a point. But you need to forget about the audience you so passionately aim to please. It’s all just a delusion, anyway. It doesn’t want you, so don’t get your hopes up; they’ll only hold you back and bring you down. Just concentrate on your work.

DT: I guess you’re right. Content isolationism has always been the way to go.

CC: Thatta girl. Now I think you’re in the right state of mind to tackle the Funeral mystique.

DT: Now if only I could stay there.


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