The Arcade Fire aren’t even a band anymore; they’re a cult. A bunch of people who dress up and make creepy records and refuse to be in their videos. To be fair, it must be a nightmare trying to control them; when they’re not throwing ladders at each other onstage, they’re smashing Jonathan Ross’ camera or leading the crowd out of the theatre after gigs and playing in the street. Bluntly put; they’re a bunch of mad Canadians.

On the record, there are two singers; Win and Régine. Whilst on Funeral they tended to sound a little screechy, here they’re restrained themselves. Whilst Régine has started to stay in tune, Win has changed completely; his voice now sounds deep, as if channelling the spirit of Bruce Springsteen, and it suits the music. The band have always made dark music, and tracks like ‘Intervention’ feature two huge organs, played over the top of each other, to create a thundering gothic vision for the music. It’s an awesomely anti-commercial statement of theatre which features melodramatic lines such as “working for the church while your family DIES!” It’s dramatic stuff. Yet what makes the music so strong is the multi-instrumentation. You can hear a plinky glockenspiel in Intervention pinning the song together, and over the mighty organs are keyboards and guitars, quiet pieces of percussion, many different things coming together. Following Intervention are two songs which fit together, “Black Wave (Bad Vibrations)” and “Ocean of Noise”. Black Wave is itself set in two pieces, with Régine singing the first half in her almost hysterical way, before Win bursts in with thudding drums and scary guitar growling, with the lowest tone of voice imaginable. The second half outdoes the first, but it’s worth listening to the whole piece together to enjoy it as a whole. Ocean of Noise, on the other hand, follows straight on from the proclamations of doom to provide a calm moment. Pinned down by keyboards and guitars, the song is whispered by Win. It’s not one of the better tracks, it’s too restless for it’s own good, but as a mood piece it’s unbeatable.

However, the problems the album faces are not a huge deal, especially when the band can throw tracks like “Keep The Car Running” and “The Well and the Lighthouse” at you. The former is a song with chasing guitars, where you can hear every string being used on the bass and electric, and the violins soar above. It’s fast, very fast, and the pace sweeps you away. The latter is another song that works better as a whole than as a single piece. The first part of the song has thudding keyboards and tingling percussion bits rattling across the back, whilst Win sings “heaven is only in my head”, again hitting the theme of the album, which wants to attack Christian society in America. The first half of the song is like Keep the Car…, in that it races along as a breathtaking speed, but then slows down with distorted handclaps and jingles, and becomes an anthem. But when it comes to anthems on the album… nothing can beat “No Cars Go”. A song they previously released three years ago, No Cars Go has been remodelled as a mini-opera. Guitars, violins, organs, piano, pounding drums, you’ve got everything thrown together here with some woodwind for good luck, and you have yourself a song that takes Snow Patrol and turns something like “Run” into art-rock. It’s dark, moody, upbeat and joyous at the same time, and it’s got bits where the whole band shout “hey!” at each other. Win and Régine sing together, and it’s the best thing ever to sing at night when you’re driving down a road lit up by orange streetlamps and you can watch tramps walking round, fighting each other for food. Was that image a little too specific?

The anthems steal this album away. Whilst you can justify the presence of every song on the record, simply because they add to the tone and sound of the thing together, it’s got to be said that songs like Ocean of Noise fade into obscurity pretty quickly. Also, big shame that No Cars Go isn’t the last song. It ends things on such a high note that you wonder why the band chose for the worst song, My Body Is A Cage, to end the record. In the end, though, it doesn’t matter, because the band have evolved and started to grow bigger in terms of noise and power. All they really need to do is bulk up their song-writing, and… that’s it. The band have everything they need at their feet; they make a miraculous discord, and they’re well on their way to becoming the most important band of the new millennium