[Photo by INCANDENZA]
BY JONATHAN VALANIA FOR THE INQUIRER In a more accurate world, if you looked up anthemic in the dictionary, you would invariably find a picture of the Arcade Fire. Rousing, heartfelt and everyone-can-sing-along have been, heretofore, the hallmarks of the Montreal band’s recorded output. The just-released The Suburbs, which largely eschews the fist-pumping chorales of previous outings in favor of low-boil brooding, may well change all that. But Monday night at the Mann Music Center The Arcade Fire got back to what they do best: passionately pounding out sweeping, densely-layered, stadium-shaking soundtracks for people who have long ago made peace with the fact that sooner or later the world will break your heart. If nothing else, Arcade Fire proved that the profound sense of loss — of innocence, of control, of loved ones dead and gone — that is so central to their music has a mass resonance that transcends the parameters of pop, and when shared with 7,500 kindred spirits on a cool summer night it becomes a celebration of sorts. Message: everybody hurts, but we are all in this together. MORE