It’s been quite a time for indie rock fans of a certain age looking to revisit their favorites. Last month we got a new Bon Iver album, and this month brings new releases from Lucius, Tune-Yards, The National’s Matt Berninger and Car Seat Headrest. But in addition to all those heavy-hitters of the 2010s, there’s also the inexplicable new effort from Arcade Fire, Pink Elephant.
Out Friday, Pink Elephant is the first new Arcade Fire album since four people accused frontman Win Butler of sexual misconduct in 2022, as reported by Pitchfork. It’s further proof that no one is ever truly canceled — taking a time-out is all that’s necessary before you’re back on tour or performing on Saturday Night Live (as Arcade Fire is this weekend). Pink Elephant attempts to address — or at least dance around — the accusations against Butler, but did we really need some empty words and allusions to change from him? Couldn’t the once-great indie band simply…fade away?
On the lead single “Year of the Snake,” Butler sings, “I pickеd up a new scar / I tried to be good / But I’m a rеal boy / My heart’s full of love / It’s not made out of wood.” (If you’re wondering whether there was some gross Peter Pan syndrome contributing to Butler’s transgressions — which he claims were all consensual — he is currently a 45-year-old man referring to himself as a “boy.”) There are instrumentals on the album with telling titles as well: “Beyond Salvation,” “Open Your Heart or Die Trying.” On the aptly named “Circle of Trust,” he dangles a sense of security in front of the object of his affection, telling her, “It could be us inside a circle of trust.” It’s all kind of maddening because it feels like a coy way of tackling the elephant in the room without actually admitting any wrongdoing.
But even if you can look past the controversy that surrounds Butler — which, apparently, many people can — the question remains: why do we need a new Arcade Fire album in the year 2025? Everything about them that once felt cool now feels horribly dated. The pseudo-earnestness, the sweeping choruses…it’s dangerously close to the “stomp clap hey” bands from 15 years ago. That was painfully obvious to me watching Arcade Fire’s performance at the SNL50 concert back in February, and I say this as someone who, like all good Millennial music nerds, worshipped Funeral and The Suburbs and sang along to “Wake Up” in a crowd of thousands of people. Watching a grinning Butler hoisting his guitar up like a raised fist — you know, to remind us that what he’s doing is meaningful and important — I couldn’t help but wonder whether he’s still rocking a headband because he thinks it looks cool or because he’s trying to hide a receding hairline.
-The world is a very different place now than it was back in Arcade Fire’s heyday. (Hell, when they shocked the world by upsetting Lady Gaga and Katy Perry and winning Album of Year at the Grammys, Obama was still president.) Music doesn’t have to be political, of course, but there’s something about their whole vibe that feels naive and out of touch in today’s world. We live in dark times, and prancing around onstage with a hurdy-gurdy doesn’t feel as subversive as it maybe once did. And there’s the added darkness now of Butler’s reality; watching Arcade Fire continue to exist is a reminder that the culture wars have already been lost. Whether it’s Butler or Morgan Wallen (another Lorne Michaels favorite!) or Louis C.K. selling out Madison Square Garden, the message is clear: money talks, and bad men will continue to get away with doing bad things as long as there’s an audience for them.
So who is this new Arcade Fire album for? It can’t be for those of us who won’t allow ourselves to remain fans of someone accused of sexually exploiting others, but it doesn’t feel quite right for anyone plugged into the current zeitgeist who might be willing to overlook Butler’s personal life, either. The allegations against Butler in some ways actually distract us from the fact that Arcade Fire is coming off of two consecutive duds: the disappointing Everything Now (2017) and We (2022). Pink Elephant is not a return to form by any stretch of the imagination. Why even attempt to make the comeback if you’re going to throw away all your cultural currency and keep leaning on bad musical instincts? Why couldn’t Arcade Fire read the room and simply back off, remaining preserved in amber — stuck in a simpler time when they were still relevant and making some of the most highly regarded music of their era?
Nobody asked for this. Sometimes it’s best to just pretend like you can’t see the elephant.
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