Review: Broken Social Scene – Forgiveness Rock Record

The new Broken Social Scene album, their first in five years, is called Forgiveness Rock Record. What the hell does that mean? Let’s ignore the “Forgiveness” and just focus on the “Rock” part of the title. Does this mean that BSS’s previous albums weren’t rock? Their sound may be looser and, at times, quieter than what’s stereotypically referred to as “rock,” but it’s also guitar-driven and marked by occasional explosive flourishes. Nothing on You Forgot It In People and Broken Social Scene can be said to not be rock. But there has to be a reason for the title…

Album opener “World Sick” begins with relaxed ambient tones, but then there emerges a drum beat that demands the listener to dance. That’s something completely new for a BSS song; this band did not make its name on the dance floor. But “World Sick” is a song for bodies, a song whose heat you will feel in your flesh, that will make you move whether you want to or not. The verses are chant-sung over that bass and drum rhythm and a cacophony of electronic noises. Somehow, from out of them explodes a chorus of ginormous guitar, crashing percussion, and shouted lyrics. It’s not just anthemic; it will make your jaw drop and a tear come unconsciously to your eye. By the end of this song, you will want to tear the clothes off your body and have wild, romantic sex with the person closest to you just so you can get some of what this incredible song is on. THIS is what they mean by rock.

Alas, nothing on the rest of the album is as good as “World Sick.” But how could it be? Even orgasms are over in a few seconds. The rest of the album does an admirable job of trying to keep up its urgent beauty. “Chase Scene” is built of heavy electronic tones, strings, and breathlessly recited lyrics. It’s danceable and dangerous and ends in a stunning trumpet climax. “Texaco Bitches” is giddy and ridiculous and sounds like Los Campesinos! and Dan Deacon decided to collaborate on a 4-minute cover of every track on Odelay. “Forced to Love” is gloriously assaultive and sounds like Little Creatures-era David Byrne fronting early-90s Sonic Youth. The pristine, senuous “All to All” is “Heart of Glass” under the influence of Chemical Brothers’ Surrender rather than 70s disco.

“Ungrateful Little Father” comes closest to replicating the power of the opening track. It has all the components of something unbearably twee – simple acoustic melody, plinking piano, and hand-claps – but its snare backbeat is so funky that the whole thing works beautifully. With its comically sordid lyrics- “Ungrateful little motherfuck, boredom tuck / Beat you up with bedrooms of ass”- and its knock-kneed hipster swagger, it’s the musical equivalent of the place early Jim Jarmusch characters go when they die.

“Ungrateful Little Father” fades out into a gorgeous instrumental coda that sounds like Brian Eno by way of My Bloody Valentine, and that segues directly into the exhilarating alt-rock heroic instrumental masterpiece “Meet Me in the Basement.” Between the coda and the instrumental track, there are about six straight minutes of Forgiveness Rock Record with no words but the shouted “Here we go” at the beginning of “Meet Me in the Basement.” But those six minutes are among the most compelling in recent popular music.

The band returns to electronica on “Sentimental Xs,” but here the bass and drums are analog, and the result is like a keyboard-driven version of My Bloody Valentine. The song never insists on itself, but it’s engrossing long before the volume kicks up at the 4 minute mark. “Sweetest Kill” is destined to replace The xx as the soundtrack to slowdances and fantastic make-out sessions the world over. “Water in Hell” is a 90s alt-rock radio anthem on laughing gas. The band throws itself into its most ridiculous impulses, and the album climaxes in its Southern/Prog bridge. Stephen Malkmus wishes he had written that song.

Forgiveness Rock Record is Broken Social Scene’s most straightforward, sexiest, most anthemic, loudest, funniest album. It may not be the cumulative masterpiece that You Forgot It In People is, but it comes closer than their self-titled 2005 album. It’s Broken Social Scene’s take on rock, and it’s one of the best times you’ll have with an album this year.

Like this post? Bookmark it!

Email to a friend

About the Author

Jeremiah McNeil is a 27-year-old former cat wrangler for the Ringling Bros. & Barnum and Bailey Circus, though they presently disavow any information relating to his time in their service. When he was 24, a lion tamer informed him that amid the gibberish he scrawled in his scat on bathroom stall walls were passages of recognizable English. Since then, Jeremiah has been driven by ambition and Adderall to be the best writer he can be. Please humor him. Follow Jeremiah on Twitter.

Email this Author | All posts by Jeremiah

Comments are closed.