Arcade Fire - Blog Posts

Neon Bible 

Just another day in the Suburban War.

The cities we live in could be distant stars, and I'll search for you in every passing car.

Transgender Daily Bugle photographer Petra Parker getting invited to an Arcade Fire concert? I'm totally not adding that to my headcanon whatsoever. Not at all.

this line delivery has lived in my head for 10 years

I'm not positive I understand what you mean, but can we just pretend we'll make it home again from everything now.

Everything Now by Arcade Fire is a Gendervoid Lesbian!

requested by @stormywinter42

In the Suburbs I learned to drive, and you told me we’d never survive.

Girl, you absolutely understood the vision I had in my head. When thinking about Arcane I only hear The Suburbs/Suburban War/The Suburbs Continued playing. Please stop with the telepathy it is a lil concerning.

"This town’s so strange, they built it to change. And while we sleep, we know the streets get rearranged. With my old friends, it was so different then. Before your war against the suburbs began. Before it began. Now the music divides us into tribes. You grew your hair, so I grew mine. You said the past won’t rest until we jump the fence and leave it behind. With my old friends, I can remember when. You cut your hair, I never saw you again. Now the cities we live in could be distant stars. And I search for you In every passing car."

You know I would love to waste it again

What if the Camera Really Do Take Your Soul? Arcade Fire, Anthropology and Western Myth.

“Flashbulb Eyes” is not a particularly long song (especially compared to the others on the album), and lyrically speaking it... Well, it's eight different lines.

However, it is in this track where (I feel) the albums two strongest themes, fear or sociopathy and hatred of fame come together in the most succinct and straightforward way.

Though recently, this song has inspired me to think about something else; the idea that certain people once believe that “the camera can steal your soul”. It mostly seems to be colonial bullshit. 

What you're looking at here is a photograph from keen scientific writer and pioneer of Japanese photography, Ueno Hikoma. During Hikoma's life, he captured many iconic scenes of the Japanese countryside, as well as its inhabitants. His work was widely influential, and he maintained close relationships with and even taught many of the other great Japanese  photographers of the time (Uchida Kuichi, Noguchi Jōichi and Kameya Tokujirō to name just a few). At times, however, superstitions crept into his craft, and he had trouble taking the pictures of a number of his Japanese countrymen. You see; it was a belief in some areas that having your picture taken would also take your soul away.

Except, no, that's not really true at all, it's just how Western society seemed to interpret it. It's true, Hikoma had difficulty taking the pictures of some Japanese citizens, however it wasn't really for fear of a soul being stolen. It was in fact far closer to some of the Japanese believing that they could become sick from having their picture taken, possibly due to the bright flash – and even this belief does not necessarily come down to superstition as much as misunderstanding. The camera was still a relatively new contraption – especially if you were a farmer and had never seen anything remotely similar before – so general unease around it does not seem too absurd.

This example, by the way, happens to be one of the very few (documented, at least) examples of a people actually fearing the camera in this way.

Other instances of of civilisations fearing the camera seem to stem more from cultural misunderstandings. For instance, the Australian Aboriginal culture (much like the Iroquois) is an intrinsically oral one, containing no written language. History and stories pre-1788 were maintained through song and repeatedly told stories rather than through physical documentation (The Iroquois, conversely, would appoint “Sachem”, individuals tasked with remembering and teaching Historic events). As a result, the Aboriginal tradition has become a profoundly esoteric one. Due to this traditional, recording an Aboriginal ceremony, song or practise is a matter of extreme contention, and it is highly recommended (and really, just a mark of respect) you consult the host before taking pictures. The avoidance of the camera, for these people, is not a matter of fear, but of cultural preservation. 

In Janet Hoskins study of the myth, she theorises that the fear of the camera stealing blood is actually far more likely than the notion of a camera stealing a soul (Noting that the cameras “click” sounding similar to a sucking sound). This sounds a little odd, but makes sense – after all, the notion of a “soul” is not necessarily common to every culture, and even if a culture does posses a “soul equivalent”, who is to say their version is capable of being stolen? Is it not also possible that fear of the camera could also have begun out of fear of the power it represents – taking ones image forever, without their consent? Anthropologist Rodney Needham labelled the belief that the camera can steal the soul a “literary stereotype”.

In fact, the idea of a soul being stolen through a representative image is a distinctly European one.  During the Victorian era, it was common practise for all mirrors to be covered with sheets or rags at a funeral. This was due to the incredibly strong belief the Victorians had in “the soul” - notably that immortality was achieved through the resurrection of the soul. Mirrors were covered so that no reflection of the dead would be present at their funeral – the common superstition was that if any reflection were present, then the deceased soul could be trapped forever. It makes sense now, that many Westerners would have associated other culture's avoidance of the camera with the soul. This idea of the “reflection” representing the soul likely carried over to the introduction of the camera, where in stead of a “reflection” mirroring the soul, it was a photograph.

Ah yes, reflections. Reflektions.