What if an album could make you question the very way you live in the digital age?

 What if an album could make you question the very way you live in the digital age? ‘Reflektor’ isn’t just an album. It’s a question. Are you actually living, or just watching yourself live?

Arcade Fire’s exploration of introspection, alienation, and desire in a world saturated with superficial imagery, particularly during the 'Reflective Age', a time where people are caught up only in abstract reflection and thus complete inaction, standing in contrast to a 'Revolutionary Age.' 'Reflektor' isn’t just an album, but rather a reflective piece that challenges us to consider how modern culture shapes our perceptions and actions. Arcade Fire's ability to break away from their traditional indie rock template and embrace a more exotic blend of dance rhythms and art rock demonstrates their remarkable versatility as artists. 

The album’s conceptual core is deeply tied to 'The Present Age', a work by Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard, and media like Black Orpheus (Marcel Camus). Kierkegaard believed that truth is lived, not just thought or spoken. You can write a book, give a speech, or even fight for a cause, but if your actions don’t come from a deep, personal commitment, they’re empty. They’re just performance. Just reflection. 'All of this is hollow if it lacks subjective truth, if you aren’t risking yourself in what you say or do.' Kierkegaard writes in The Present Age, criticising a society that is obsessed with abstract thinking and appearance. Everyone is clever, ironic, and detached, but no one takes real responsibility or makes authentic decisions. You might talk about justice, but never fight for it. You might write about love, but never risk being vulnerable. You might sing about freedom, but never challenge anything that threatens your comfort. Black Orpheus's themes of love, fate, and the struggle against forces beyond one’s control are also central to 'Reflektor', and visually 'Black Orpheus' influences 'Reflektor'’s aesthetic, in its album artwork and music videos, which incorporate carnival imagery, masks, and fragmented reflections, symbols of identity and illusion.

For those unfamiliar, Arcade Fire is a Canadian indie rock band known for becoming one of the most influential and innovative bands in the 21st century, with their anthemic sound and emotionally charged storytelling. Their music transcends traditional indie rock, incorporating elements of baroque pop, post-punk, and even Haitian rhythms, the latter stemming from Régine Chassagne’s heritage. With critically acclaimed records like Funeral and The Suburbs (AOTY 2011 Grammys), they’ve built a reputation for turning personal angst and social commentary into musical journeys, and not shying away from stating the blatant truth. 'Reflektor', their fourth album, is both a musical departure and a deep philosophical statement.

 

Following Arcade Fires internationally recognised record ‘The Suburbs’, the band visited Haiti, Régine Chassange’s homeland to help with humanitarian work. Though the band had visited before in 2007, and the influence of Haitian themes can be heard subtly throughout their previous work, ‘Reflektor’ embraces these elements fully, with a record full of rich texture and unique percussion, a 360-degree masterpiece of layered, intricate sound design where their skilful use of stereo production brings every part of the song in full focus, this record is best listened to with a stereo setup to let each element of the album shine through, rather than relying on the limitations of standard computer speakers. With an interview with Rolling Stone, Butler said: "Going to Haiti for the first time with Régine was the beginning of a major change in the way that I thought about the world. Usually, I think you have most of your musical influences locked down by the time you're 16. There was a band I [feel] changed me musically, just really opened me up to this huge, vast amount of culture and influence I hadn't been exposed to before, which was really life-changing."

The Haitian influences throughout the record, both musically and thematically, play a key role in bridging most of the album's concepts. Haiti itself is a country that has suffered immense hardship but has also demonstrated incredible resilience. This duality mirrors the reflective themes within the album, where beauty is found not despite the pain, but often because of it. Songs like ‘Reflektor’ and ‘Flashbulb Eyes’ expand this idea, urging listeners to confront their own isolation and to seek meaning outside the screens and filters that have come to define their lives.

For me, listening deeply to an album is essential, especially with Arcade Fire, who is known to hide intricate details within their layers of production. Just as ‘The Suburbs’ provides hidden details that emerge with each listen, ‘Reflektor’ is no different. Being a double LP, it offers even more space for these elements to be found. 

 

Speaking of hidden elements, it's no surprise that Arcade Fire outdoes their previous Grammy-nominated album packaging for ‘The Suburbs (Deluxe)’, with ‘Reflektor’ featuring two 9-minute hidden tracks on the pre-gap of both discs. Where an artist can intentionally leave the pre-gap empty, Arcade Fire takes the opportunity to include something for listeners to seek out, almost mocking the modern era in a world where music is always just a few clicks away. The hidden tracks allow room for space and silence: things the internet doesn’t permit. The tracks further suggest that there is a world outside this ‘prism’, with the prism being the internet. With these hidden tracks of silence and bizarre reversed instrumental of tracks on the album, Arcade Fire figuratively wraps their album into a bow, reflecting the entire album in a way that makes the album itself a ‘reflektor’.

Although lengthy, the title track sets the stage for what listeners can expect from the rest of the album, a new type of Arcade Fire filled with new sonic choices, making it an important listen.

As the album progresses, ‘We Exist’ further develops this theme, introducing alternative influences, with its combination of harsh guitars and driving baselines running throughout the song, rhythmically the track utilises a steady beat, referencing conformity and normalism that create tension between the upbeat and downbeat, while the bass anchors the harmonic progression with a repetitive, almost minimalist approach. This, paired with the dissonant intervals in the guitar and violin riff, builds an unsettling atmosphere that complements the song's lyrical themes of identity and societal alienation. While these opening tracks set the stage, ‘Flashbulb Eyes’ and ‘Here Comes the Night Time’ introduce the album's drastic division in sound and mood.

The distorted sounds that open ‘Flashbulb Eyes’ are the result of a happy accident, when Régine Chassange was playing with Jeremy Gara’s Roland SPDSX sampling drum pad into a tube amplifier, and accidentally hit 10 pads together and blew the amplifier tubes, Korey Richey happened to be recording and it made this fantastic, crazy sound. Arcade Fire's impressive ability to add unexpected elements shows their attention and willingness to add texture, atmosphere and spontaneity to their music. Connecting the album to a world outside the internet, ‘Flashbulb eyes’ leads into ‘Here Comes the Night Time’ with voices recorded in Haiti during Win and Régine’s trip. ‘Here Comes the Night Time’ opens with a spiralling melody that confronts the listener, demanding their attention.  As infectious as the melody is, the chaotic energy is a stark contrast to ‘Here Comes the Night Time II’, an almost illuminating track. The latter serves as a realisation to the narrator, who subtly references depression in the opening lines, an allusion to Nine Inch Nails’ "Hurt."  ‘Here Comes the Night Time II’ is a personal favourite of mine; the subtle orchestral arrangements are extremely beautiful and show the listener the dark sides of human nature, which is an idea that could have been expanded more on the first disc. 

 While ‘Joan of Arc’ doesn’t stand out in the album, due to its almost minimalistic approach to alt-pop, it rewards the listeners with its groovy chant-like chorus, dynamic shifts between punk aggression and melodic pop, and of course, Régines beautiful French <3  'Jeanee d'Arc ahhhh' really gives the song extra points.

‘Normal Person’ and ‘You Already Know’ feel like a natural pair, both carrying the same energy and maintaining the intensity of the rest of the record. However, they fall just short of greatness, as the pair seem to be reaching for a different incentive with their straightforward and ironic approach as opposed to the other tracks. Despite this, where the album lacks, other parts make up for it, which is not something I see regularly.

‘Awful Sound (Oh Eurydice)’  and ‘It’s Never Over (Hey Orpheus)’ have to be my favourite pair on the record.

While "Normal Person" and "You Already Know" may flirt with irony or raw energy, "Awful Sound" and "It’s Never Over" are profound in their emotional depth and cohesion. They feel grand and intimate at the same time, though they both have a drastically different sound. "Awful Sound" reflects Orpheus’s perspective, portraying his desperation and hope with the lyrics ‘I know there's a way we can leave today, think it over and say (I'm never going back again)’ while "It’s Never Over" captures Eurydice’s gradual decline from passionate and determined to weary and detached, with the call-and-response vocals mirroring the couples futile attempt to hold on. The call-and-response vocals are, in my opinion, the best part of the record. I especially love how, at the end of 'It’s Never Over,' Orpheus and Eurydice sing 'Oh Orpheus' and 'Oh Eurydice' at the same time, making it feel like the listener is losing the couple too.. Arcade Fire uses the Orpheus and Eurydice myth as a framework to explore themes of connection and loss in the modern age. They reinterpret their story, portraying Orpheus not just as a tragic lover but as a symbol of our tendency to look back and dwell on the past, even when doing so leads to our downfall. The album also mirrors Black Orpheus’s juxtaposition of beauty and tragedy, with lush, celebratory sounds masking an underlying despair, shifting the focus from fate to human nature and how humans tend to lose what we love despite our best intentions. The album finishes with 3 of the strongest songs, ‘Porno’, ‘Afterlife’, and ‘Supersymmetry’ (did they really just save the best for last?). 

‘Porno’ stands out with its lyrical depth, exploring love, intimacy, and desire in the ‘reflective age’ but the track relies heavily on its repetitive loops and synths, mirroring the cyclical nature of modern relationships. It’s raw, stripped back, and honest, both musically and emotionally, making it (personally) one of the most beautiful songs on the record. The title alone, ‘Porno’, grabs your attention, setting the stage for a deeper exploration of relationships and authenticity. The word evokes something raw and provocative, but the song subverts this expectation, moving instead toward a longing for genuine connection. It challenges listeners to confront the complexities of relationships and authenticity.  The lack of resolution at the end, with the line “I’m not over it,” leaves the tension unresolved, with Win and Régine singing from opposing perspectives, highlighting modern culture’s shallow approach to love. The concept of the song is timeless, in my opinion, I find the song striking, its refusal to offer clear answers mirrors the ambiguity and messiness of real relationships causes it to linger long after it ends and presents a bigger picture.. "You perform a self. You never become one."

‘Afterlife’ starts with a haunting synth that, if I heard it randomly, would probably make me think I'm passing through the underworld. The leading percussion seems to celebrate, yet Régine’s vocals contrast this with a sense of uncertainty. Her ‘oohs’ almost feel like a subtle questioning, like a soul arriving to their final destination, confused. Like ‘Porno’, ‘Afterlife’ seems to leave the questions the narrator asks wide open, And though this album wasn't designed to offer closure, much like Funeral, both albums suggest that closure is elusive, almost as if its always just out of reach.

Finally, ‘Supersymmetry’ feels like a fitting end to an album like ‘Reflektor’ especially because of its dreamlike quality. The buildup in the instrumentation feels like it's trying to resolve something, but it never quite reaches a definitive conclusion, which is part of its charm. The song plays with the idea of symmetry, how everything is connected but never quite perfect which reflects the themes of the album as a whole, making it feel expansive. The final five minutes of Supersymmetry are unexpected, mainly because its filled with a series of disorienting and seemingly random sounds, which many fans have theorised falls in perfectly with the pregap track on the CD’s, I agree!! A listener paying close attention would be surprised to hear the melodies of both ‘Supersymmetry’ and ‘Porno’ sampled on the ‘Her’ soundtrack, as the band was recording 'Reflektor' at the same time as 'Her'. A perfect fit if you ask me. 

Contrary to popular opinion, the production of the record is not at all a LCD Soundsystem or James Murphey carbon copy, ‘Reflektor’ is a departure, not a reproduction, rather it redefines what ‘Arcade Fire’ means to the listener. With one glance of that name ‘James Murphey’, listeners assume that the entire record is just a new vessel for LCD Soundsystem, but thats not the case at all, Arcade Fire and Markus Dravs had as much to do with producing the record, if not more, than Murphey. In an interview with Rolling Stone, Butler explained how the team worked extensively on individual songs from the record, such as ‘Awful Sound (Oh Eurydice)’ (Murphey) and ‘Here Comes the Night Time’ (Mostly AF produced). Meanwhile, It’s Never Over (Hey Orpheus) was the track the band jokingly referred to as Murphy’s "baby" and passion project, highlighting the diverse creative input that defined the album’s sound.

Many people argue that 'Reflektor' would be a stronger album if certain tracks were cut entirely. However, this perspective overlooks the fact that 'Reflektor' is what it is because it's inherently a self-referential work, its structure and sound are shaped by its own themes and evolution. Each track contributes to the overall narrative and atmosphere, making the album's unique form integral to its impact. Much like a puzzle, some people might think it would look better if a few pieces were removed, but those pieces, however imperfect, are essential for completing the picture. Just like a puzzle needs every piece to create a cohesive image, 'Reflektor' relies on all of its tracks to form a complete and intentional artistic statement. Each part plays a role in shaping the whole experience.

The production is dense, layered, and full of intricate details, from the ambience to the shifting melodies and rhythms, which reward listeners who take the time to really listen.

But, despite the album's sonic grandeur, there are moments where the production feels almost too overwhelming, with some tracks feeling a bit muddied or overly packed with layers. The sound is bold, but in a few places, it comes close to distracting from the emotion of the song itself. While tracks like "Awful Sound (Oh Eurydice)" and "It’s Never Over (Hey Orpheus)" benefit from the rich production, others like "Normal Person" feel slightly less refined. The production choices here could be seen as deliberate, playing into the irony and commentary of the album, but at times, the balance between ambition and clarity feels strained.

But beyond its production, at the heart of 'Reflektor' is its philosophical exploration of identity, human connection, and the alienating effects of technology, which at the time in 2013, wasn't prominent in the conversation of technology as new innovations were just being introduced.  

It’s easy to interpret 'Reflektor' as an album about disillusionment with modern society, but it also subtly hints at the possibility of liberation through self-awareness, trying to encourage the listener to take action. The track ‘Afterlife,’ for instance, explores the existential struggle between moving forward and remaining stuck in the past, with its haunting melody juxtaposed against the rhythm that implies forward momentum. The lyrics suggest that even in the face of darkness, there is still the potential for connection, change, and redemption, if only we can escape the trap of constant self-reflection, but we never do.

Through this lens, 'Reflektor' becomes not just an exploration of a unseen modern crisis, but also an invitation to find the courage to move beyond it, to stop reflecting endlessly on one’s existence and to start living in the real world once again, blatantly its saying to the audience 'To reflect is to see yourself. To be reflected is to lose yourself.'

'Reflektor' remains one of those albums that stands the test of time; in a way, it's both a work of art and a cultural commentary. In a world saturated by digital distractions, 'Reflektor' is more than just an album; it challenges us to stop, reflect, and seek something more authentic. It might not be the easiest album to digest at first due to its length, but the emotional depth it offers takes time to reach full potential and is more than worth the investment.

While not without its flaws, particularly in some of the more straightforward moments that feel like they could’ve been more fleshed out, 'Reflektor' still stands as one of the most ambitious albums of Arcade Fire's career. It's personal introspection and global commentary, paired with revolutionary musical choices, that make it an essential listen for any fan of music that challenges the status quo.

Personally, this album sticks with me because it captures a certain disillusionment with the modern world, but also holds some hope, suggesting that to move forward, we must break free from the cycle of self-absorption. The way the band infuses their music with personal reflection, mixed with global influences, continues to evolve the way I think about the intersection of culture, art, and society. 

If you’ve ever wondered whether an album could make you question the very way you live in the digital age, 'Reflektor' is the answer.  What Arcade Fire has achieved with 'Reflektor' is nothing short of a musical masterpiece, an album that not only challenges the boundaries of what music can do but also urges listeners to reflect deeply on their own place in a world that often feels disconnected.

Whether you’ve felt overwhelmed by constant connectivity, longed for something more meaningful, or just want to dance, 'Reflektor' might just speak to you. It encourages introspection, yes, but also action. Because in this reflective age, the ultimate question it leaves you with is: will you do something about it?

-zee!