Arcade Fire � Reflektor (Merge) - When I interviewed the Dismemberment Plan's Travis Morrison in 2008, we discussed Sasha Frere-Jones' then-recent piece for the New Yorker on indie-rock having no "black" music in it, no rhythm or soul influences. Morrison scoffed and sang part of Arcade Fire's "Crown of Love" to me as an example. "That's not a soul song?" Four years earlier, when I'd first heard Funeral without knowing it would go on to the biggest critical success of the 2000s � I called it "Bright Eyes with disco breakdowns."

It's remarkable how in merely four years, my belief downshifted from the idea that they had more groove than the then-status quo for indie, to agreeing that this was the most straight-laced, monotonous thud of the current boom. These are musical observations, not critical judgments; their relatively neglected second album Neon Bible (a mere 8.4 from their definitive champions Pitchfork, between a 9.7, 8.6 and this week, 9.2) is second only to Wussy's Funeral Dress as the most melodically perfect song-for-song cycle of the 2000s. What it wasn't: dynamic, funky or bottomless. Follow-up The Suburbs was even more uninteresting, with many more songs but only two classic tunes, the curmudgeonly "We Used to Wait" and the enormous synth march "Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)," sung by R�gine Chassagne, frontman Win Butler's wife. It won the GRAMMY for Album of the Year and even after years of surprise No. 1 albums, indie-rock finally broke through the one ceiling that Nirvana and Radiohead never could. This is because they're so normal, an ideal reflektion of the people who perceive themselves to be the norm. But more on that in a minute.

Better than Radiohead ever were but far less exciting, Arcade Fire is in a less enviable position than their great many non-critics think: change or die. Listen to the hype and you'll hate Reflektor on principle, that it's somehow unpredictable or daring or not at all exactly what a Caucasian band in their position is expected to do: explore the other. If that sounds familiar, well, U2's Joshua Tree won Album of the Year as well, picked up a few famous friends for Rattle and Hum, and embraced "pop" with Achtung Baby, which desperately tried to soak up electronics from its Berlin origins. On Reflektor, once again the world's straightest band ran out of tunes and finally decided to listen to something besides Springsteen. While U2 were tighter songwriters when they hit the mark (there's no "One" or even a "Mysterious Ways" here), you can trust Arcade Fire, who've always known an extended groove even if they're only belatedly interested in making it dance. All but four of the songs on these two-discs-in-85-minutes finish under five minutes, with several over six and one synth-braised 11-minute closer. Not one outstays its welcome, in fact it's a hell of a lot breezier than The Suburbs because with producer James Murphy's help it actually moves and turns, in and out of view, though not usually as danceable as indie-rockers will claim. Don't dare compare it to Talking Heads, whose complicated rhythm guitar showed an understanding of African polyrhythms, a burden better saddled with the great Vampire Weekend. But even more than U2, with Edge's one-note guitar and Bono's fluttery vocal window-dressing, this band constantly proves themselves greater than the sum of its parts.