Broken Social Scene
“Broken Social Scene”
Arts & Crafts
In 2003, a Toronto collective called Broken Social Scene
released “You Forgot It In People.” The album was a
near-perfect effort, merging well-worn pop structures with
Radiohead-like experimentalism and a sense of youthful enthusiasm
that made it the most exciting rock release in recent memory. Two
years later, they’ve returned with “Broken Social
Scene,” and the enthusiasm and energy that made them so
appealing remains intact.
Self-titling the album was an apt move. More than ever before,
the songs are splintered, fractured composites of production and
sound, created by a rotating “social scene” of
musicians who came in and out of the studio at will. “You
Forgot It In People” was honed and expertly crafted, with
clear delineations between songs and sections, but the new release
is a rushing mess of instruments and transitions. Trying to find a
verse/chorus system in songs like “Our Faces Split The Coast
In Half” or the hip-hop infused “Windsurfing
Nation” is unlikely; the band has too many ideas to stay on
any single one for long.
When band members do stay focused long enough to write a
traditional song, the results are their most compelling. “Ibi
Dreams Of Pavement” features electric guitars hammering away
as Kevin Drew’s voice rises above a sandstorm of noise to
sing, “And I saw the desert turn into death, and you were
there/you were there.” “Swimmers” is the
album’s sexiest track, beginning with Metric singer Emily
Haines playfully asking someone to “gimme more of that
beat” before floating over lush major seventh chords. The
group benefits from the wealth of compelling singers: “7/4
(Shorelines)” goes back and forth between Leslie
Feist’s declarations and the band’s harmonies until
everyone joins together in a wave of voices to sing,
“It’s coming, it’s coming in hard!”
Not every song fares so well. While the repeated wordless melody
of “Bandwitch” gives the lengthy song some coherence,
the final track “It’s All Gonna Break” is
unnecessarily long. “Fire Eye’d Boy” is a pale,
faster imitation of “Cause=Time” from “You Forgot
It In People,” the band’s only lapse into repetition.
Broken Social Scene is clearly trying to make a worthy follow-up
here, and the relentless onslaught of sonic contributions is
occasionally too much.
If nothing else, its past success has given the band confidence
enough to attempt to surpass itself. While not quite topping its
predecessor, this is a different kind of album for the group: one
full of reckless, unbridled experimentation and equally unfettered
passion. “Broken Social Scene” is a fearless mess,
equal parts beautiful and disorienting.
The Constantines
“Tournament Of Hearts”
Sub Pop
The Constantines are a rock band in every sense of the term.
Their first two albums were brash, tightly channeled bursts of
guitar ferocity funneled through the voice of Bryan Webb, whose
powerful, heavy singing has earned deserved comparisons to Bruce
Springsteen. On “Tournament Of Hearts,” the
band’s intensity is more restrained, hiding distorted
outbursts under serpentine drumming and minimalist guitar stabs.
It’s to The Constantines’ credit that the album sounds
more like a step toward maturity than a band running out of
gas.
2003’s album “Shine A Light” offered
“Sub-Domestic,” a look into the folksier side of the
group. Centerpiece “Soon Enough” takes on that role
here, taking a well-worn chord progression and adding Webb’s
distinctive vocals to a classic theme: growing up. “Soon
enough, work and love will make a man out of you,” he sings.
Otherwise, though, the new album sees the band sticking to its
strengths. “Draw Us Lines” ushers in the disc with
pounding drums and finally unleashes a torrent of electric guitars
in the final minute. “Love In Fear” takes off in the
chorus, as bending guitar strings strain against skittering drums.
The lyrics are the band’s usual intriguingly murky fare, with
a James Bond-esque character referencing lines about
“helicopters of desire” and a narrator who begs,
“Don’t take me to the hospital.”
Webb’s presence alone is strong enough to carry spare
songs such as “Hotline Operator” and “You Are A
Conductor”, but unfortunately, he’s not alone. Steve
Lambke, George Harrison to Webb’s Lennon and McCartney, has a
weak, whispery voice that pales in comparison. It doesn’t
help that he’s given the worst material to work with; the
keyboard-driven “Thieves” never reaches a satisfying
climax, and the dry, acoustic “Windy Road” is an
afterthought that would’ve fit better on labelmate
Holopaw’s recent album.
The Constantines may not play quite as fast as they used to, but
their noisy intensity has simply been refocused. In this way, the
album is an experiment of sorts; can a band do more with less,
exchanging punk riffing and blown-out chords for tense percussion
and subtle arrangements? On “Tournament Of Hearts,” the
answer is a resounding yes.