The Arcade Fire were so good last night there were priests in the audience abandoning their faith. Or re-embracing it, I couldn't exactly tell which. The review is written, but I'm waiting until Monday to publish it on Chicagoist. Here's a taste though:
The thing about an Arcade Fire live show is that every member of the band is giving it their all every second they are on the stage. Even the female sting players, left with agonizing expanses of time before being called into action, resembled possessed marionettes in the throes of constant orgasm, and this sensual fury was redoubled back at them by the majority of the crowd.
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