Arcade Fire, you had us at "parking lot"—never has an expanse of cement held so much weight as when a band succeeds at capturing what its existence actually means. Really getting into these songs is going to take more time, but this band's ability to tap into suburban angst is pretty amazing. Like seeing American Beauty before the whole floating plastic bag thing became a total parody of itself. And then there's "Month of May," which is so minimal and harsh that you wonder just why a band like this needs that many members. All that talk of suburbs is mostly gone (except, you know, when Win Butler can't help but reference them again—write what you know), replaced with more rough edged guitar and drums that can barely keep up. The two tracks are night and day, which makes for a great pairing. Get sad with "The Suburbs" and then get mad in the same way you get mad when walking behind someone real slow on the street while listening to "Month of May."
Download: Arcade Fire, "The Suburbs"