When a band from an independent record label tops the Billboard charts and sells out at Madison Square Garden within minutes, it’s worthwhile to examine how they did it. After releasing their first album on Merge in 2004, the colossal Canadian indie group Arcade Fire has quickly become a prime example of the recent popularization of indie music. On their third album, “The Suburbs”, the band continues their expansion into the mainstream, creating an album that evokes the mediocrity and banality of suburbia. The widespread success of this album comes from its ability to skillfully encapsulate the sentiments of ordinary life with music that is catchy and accessible. Yet in doing so, the music itself becomes somewhat suburban: safe and pleasing, but with a tendency to become monotonous and routine.

From the opening single, the title track, images of the commonplace are immediately elicited. The moderately-paced piano chords that open the song have a sense of contentment, until Win Butler’s ghostly voice and impassioned lyrics hint at the brewing angst underneath this manufactured cheeriness. The measured, neither-slow-nor-fast beat remains constant through the song. At first, the deliberate exchange between the bass drum and the snare evokes a pleasant stroll through the neighborhood, but gradually becomes a manifestation of tedium. As a result of such an accurate musical depiction of the suburbs, the song itself becomes a little too repetitive. The melody is simple and likeable, but never moving or memorable. Many of the songs on the album fall into a similar trap, suffering from a lack of intensity and spontaneity for the sake of embodying the life of the ordinary. Tracks such as “Modern Man” and “Ready to Start” are enjoyable and the lyrics evocative, but neither seem to progress much past the opening.

Several of the tracks do seem to open with an edge that the rest of the album seems to lack, yet these tracks soon become bogged down into mediocrity as well. “We Used to Wait” begins with driving, piercing piano chords that fit into the syncopation of the drums and guitar. The piano drives the song into a thumping bass drum build-up. Yet instead of exploding into the chorus, Butler fights the drive and keeps it controlled. Although the ploy may once again represent the stifled uneasiness of suburbia, musically it does little to keep the listener engaged. The song does build slightly more at the end, but not nearly enough to satisfy the listener’s craving for release.

It is truly a feat for a band from an independent label to achieve mainstream success while maintaining artistic integrity, and Arcade Fire should be commended for creating “The Suburbs,” an enjoyable and accessible album. However, in doing so, their music has become somewhat run-of-the-mill. “The ordinary man spends his life avoiding tense situations,” Bud said in the cult classic “Repo Man.” The suburbs leave no room for risks, and “The Suburbs” appeals to the ordinary by being just that.

—Staff writer Matt E. Sachs can be reached at msachs@fas.harvard.edu.