Arcade Fire reminisces with small show
Friday night, as most of West Los Angeles threw back shots of Smirnoff and waited in queues for expensive pre-Grammy parties, a little theater in East Hollywood had a different bill to offer. 
The Canadian indie rock demigods of Arcade Fire had arrived in town to perform at the Sunday night awards show, but managed to swing by the Ukrainian Cultural Arts Center for a cheap, all-ages show.
After selling out The Shrine Auditorium for two nights last October and now headlining 2011’s Coachella, Arcade Fire’s decision to bring its live show to an intimate, 500-person venue sent shockwaves through the Twitter universe.
Thursday night saw hundreds of hipsters camped outside Origami Records, the El Rey and Long Beach’s Fingerprints in hopes of snagging the hottest ticket of the weekend.
No doubt sleep-deprived, the prosperous crowd that packed the bare confines of the arts center on Friday night looked weary upon entry.
Thankfully, event promoters FYF and Goldenvoice provided free cotton candy and sodas, which attendees inhaled gladly.
Moments after 9 p.m., the lights darkened to gladiatorial roars and all eight members of Arcade Fire emerged from backstage, led by a dancing Regine Chassagne. Front man Win Butler, still sporting a half-shaved head, wordlessly shouldered a guitar and led the band into a scorching rendition of “Month of May.”
The audience members ate it up, whipping their heads and swapping looks of stunned disbelief.
“It was 30 below when we left Montreal to come here,” a grinning Butler told the crowd, shedding his jacket to reveal an already sweat soaked T-shirt. “So L.A., let me tell you that we are really, really happy to be here.”
The band continued onward with a set list that drew heavily from its 2004 debut LP Funeral.
The timelessly anthemic “Rebellion (Lies)” came early, but drew the crowd to a euphoric, fist-pumping finish. “Wake Up” remained luminescent as ever from the opening chorus to its shuffle-inducing breakdown.
Neon Bible’s “No Cars Go,” also played early in the set, was pure thunder, with the entire audience joining in on the song’s closing chants.
Despite a murky sound arrangement, the band played exquisitely, frequently swapping instruments.
Each number was perfectly timed, but, more importantly, played with enrapturing enthusiasm. Butler’s younger brother, Will, was particularly kinetic, moving about like a metronome, leaping from an organ and, at one point, thrusting a drum into his brother’s chest while pounding it.
From the perspective of another band, such a display of vigor might seem forced and pandering but somehow, Arcade Fire manages it effortlessly.
The band also reminded fans that one can remain cool while championing a political cause. Before launching into “Haiti,” Butler appealed to the crowd to encourage the Haitian government to “sue the fucking shit” out of former dictator Jean-Claude “Baby Doc” Duvalier, whose murderous reign forced Chassagne to flee Haiti for Montreal with her parents as a child.
The high point of the show came during the encore performance of the synth-filled “Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)”. As Chassagne cried, “I need the darkness, someone please cut the lights,” the entire auditorium was immersed in darkness, with the technicians killing the lighting rig at Butler’s impassioned request.
It was as honest and as unglamorous a move as any Grammy-nominated act could muster.
Given Arcade Fire’s admirable history of resisting popular live convention, the concert was a powerful gesture.
After all, this is the same band who was famous for playing secondary sets in the lobbies of venues after performing.
In recent years, the ballooning of Arcade Fire’s catalog and prestige has made such bursts of spontaneity rare.
This is a natural, if melancholic, transition for rock stars which, whether they like it or not, Butler and Co. have become. Friday’s show was a brief cry of rebellion.
Those who braved the dynamics of late-night Los Angeles and packed the arts center witnessed the band in its best form, in a setting that it will likely not revisit anytime soon.
As the crowd spilled out of the arts center at 10:45 p.m., a hopeful throng lingered by the doors for one more lobby encore or perhaps the sight of Butler openly getting a drink at the bar. Sadly, moments like these are now few and far between.
Even the few fans still inside the venue seemed to realize this, and finally wandered off into the night, ready to dance and cry at once.