Why Arcade Fire Winning a Grammy is the Worst Thing That Could’ve Happened to Music

Arcade Fire won Album of the Year last night at the Grammys. There are two problems with this.

The first one isn't usually what the Grammys would call a problem—more like the status quo. To put it simply, The Suburbs is a mediocre record. It's boring, overblown and conceptually delusional. For most of the overlong run-time, Win Butler sounds like he needs a cup of coffee, and whenever he raises his voice, the moments that Grammy voters probably thought were so thrillingly raw, he comes across like one of the more animated characters in a daytime soap, brittle and disinterested and overly melodramatic. At best, The Suburbs was in an ugly tie for the third-best record nominated, with Eminem's stilted and pop-obsessed Recovery. The two, actually, are each other's rap and rock equivalents: songs for the middle-aged, short on novelty, the work of artists who view themselves as voices beyond their music. I mean, nothing against Arcade Fire, they seem like totally nice people, but with every record they get less innocent and interesting and fall deeper into kitschy faux-philosophy. Out of the five nominees, Katy Perry should've won, and Lady Gaga was a close second, though I think if she doesn't get her act together Perry's going to make her obsolete; I will give Arcade Fire the dubious honor of being better than Lady Antebellum, though. Kudos.

The second problem is more important. All of a sudden, people are acting like the Grammys have righted themselves. That they've raised up this tiny indie-band from the ignominy of touring the southeast corridor together in a wheezing, broken van, have propelled them into the spotlight that they so desperately deserved and were unjustly deprived of up until now. Well, Arcade Fire sold out MSG—headlining over Spoon, who have been releasing stellar albums consistently since 1993 and are one of the greatest rock and roll bands of the last 25 years. They soundtracked the Super Bowl. They soundtracked a #1 movie. U2 used that same song—"Wake Up," which is actually a really great song, off of their very solid debut Funeral—to open for them on one of their tours. The Suburbs CHARTED AT #1. This has nothing to do with the quality of their music or the integrity of the group, but it's just a fact by now: Arcade Fire are one of the most popular bands in the country.

If the press keeps lauding this as some sort of debt-paid to "authentic" or "indie" music, we're screwed. The mainstream industry continues to morph and disintegrate, and there's all kinds of opportunity to actually help the music-consuming public find acts pushing and producing new sounds, or doing the tried-and-true as well as possible. But this isn't Arcade Fire, and it'll be a shame if everyone gets hung-up patting themselves on the back for their make-believe philanthropy. Last night, the Grammys weren't a victory for anyone other than Arcade Fire and their fans, which makes it the same as any other awards show. Until people get carried away.