On his mother’s side he was more than mortal, son of a Muse, and a Thracian prince. There was no limit to his power when he played and sang. He moved hearts with his melody. No one under the spell of his voice could refuse, he drew iron tears down Pluto’s cheek, and made Hell grant what Love did seek. Oh, Orpheus! Oh, Arcade Fire! You have mixed your heavenly eclecticism with the rhythms and beats of your ancestry, and your rock and roll childhood; from it sprung forth a creature of true creativity. I was pretty scared about what would be borne, but the much hyped recent release of Reflektor—the Montreal band’s fourth studio album—did not let me down. Combining their newfound influence of Haitian rara music and Jamaican dancehall, with disco infiltrator James Murphy’s (LCD Soundsystem) sense and production, the group has entered into realms of a coincidentally mythical nature. My suggestion is this: get this album, download the 1959 film Black Orpheus, put the film on mute and pump up the volume on Reflektor. You can look back if you want, I have a feeling we will be seeing them again.