I am immediately uneasy when “Neighborhood #3 (Power Out)” starts. It’s not simply the aimless lyrics, nor the drastic change in tone from “Une Année Sans Lumière”, but the frantic desperate energy of the song that impresses upon me the depth of the collapse that has occurred. Not knowing what has actually happened only exacerbates my own hopelessness. I search for meaning in the lyrics, and find the song searching too. Even at a fundamental level, “Neighborhood #3” leaves me at a loss to understand it. Central symbols like “light” take on several meanings, including life, love, and hope. It is this searching that brings fully me into the world of “Power Out”, swirling through images and ideas, realizing that something has been lost, yet unable to grasp and make sense of it.
A driving drum and guitar beat cover the desolation felt by the narrator as he struggles to cope with the death of his parents: “Ice has covered up my parents hands / Don’t have any dreams, don’t have any plans.” The narrator is left in a state of chaos by this death, without a way to navigate the darkness. He sees that “Kids are swingin’ from the power lines,” but observes that “Nobody’s home, so nobody minds” as without parents to maintain order, the neighborhood deteriorates into anarchy.
The narrator prays for someone to “Light a candle for the kids” who are desperately in need of guidance. He worries that there is “something wrong in the heart of man.” It is not enough for compassion and wisdom—those missing light sources—to live on in the hearts of the few. We must actively demonstrate these qualities: “Take it from your heart/Put it in your hand.”
Ultimately, despite his angry exhortations, the narrator admits that he too is unsure how to feel. “Is it a dream? Is it a lie?” he asks the listener, to no avail. “What’s the plan?”
