So Funeral (2004) etched the blueprints for the mass graveyard of modern music, but it’s unqualified effect on countless other acts can only be attributed to the consistent, and still remarkable, quality of the songs themselves. Despite its multifarious and mis-matched potpourri of influences, we didn’t, as we have so often since, experience it vicariously. It hit where it hurt, and made a good many people remember that a truly skilful passion secedes to subtlety and depth. You already know all this, of course, but it bears reminding what the Arcade Fire did in contrast to what they’re doing. “Intervention,” much like its anthemic precursors, pulls no punches when it comes to larger-than-life, eviscerating crescendos and dramatic pay-offs, its church organ ushered in with almost regal pomp. But, beyond the familiar, albeit richer, production and stylistic modes, lies a fundamental difference that may indicate where exactly the Arcade Fire are going with their Neon Bible.

Whereas Funeral functioned as an extroverted introversion, a strictly character-based record written from such a general point of view as to encourage millions to associate with it, “Intervention” seems to operate in reverse -- a general statement, encompassing such well-worn platitudes on war, religion and whatnot, that encourages people to locate the character and spirit in themselves. The result, obviously, is all sorts of thematic expansion, at the behest of the deeply personal element that innervated so many souls, not only enshrining the music into the potential confines and bathos of manifesto, but also marking out the mechanics. Never before have the Arcade Fire sounded so laboured, or driven by such ecclesiastical formula.

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