Review: Broken Social Scene – Forgiveness Rock Record

In 2006, I made the two hour drive from my small Ohio college to Cleveland to go see Broken Social Scene at the House of Blues. The band took to the stage and played the opening bars to “7/4 (Shoreline),” but just as they approached the start of the lyrics, Kevin Drew stopped the band. It seemed that two guys in front had started fighting, and Drew told them to either cut it out or leave. “That’s not what our music is about,” he said.

Yet, for a band that makes such pronouncements, Broken Social Scene had actually been, well, broken for a long time. As their profile rose following their breakthrough You Forgot It In People, so did the profile of the multitude of bands that help compose Broken Social Scene. As Stuart Berman’s fantastic book This Book is Broken chronicles, the loose trial and error method that helped create You Forgot It In People simply couldn’t be replicated again. The recording and touring of their previous, self titled record was marred by the inevitable romances, break-ups, and in-fighting that comes with a band of over a dozen frequently rotating members. Though Broken Social Scene is a terrific album in its own right, it in many ways was overshadowed by its predecessor and increased recognition of the various participants. In the five years since then, Broken Social Scene operated as a banner under which frontmen Kevin Drew and Brendon Canning could release solo projects, though it survived as a live entity, playing shows that featured a more consistent lineup, but with guests whenever possible.

So now, five years later, comes Forgiveness Rock Record, an album that has whittled the often sprawling band down to a core of six members: Drew, Canning, Justin Peroff, Charles Spearin, Andrew Whiteman, and Sam Goldberg, though smaller parts are provided by the usual BSS suspects and other friends. It is also the first of the band’s records since their debut, Feel Good Lost, that doesn’t have Dave Newfeld producing, with John McEnitre of Tortoise and the Sea and the Cake taking over that role. Forgiveness Rock Record has a lot of pressure on it, due largely in part to the popularity of You Forgot It In People on Best of the 2000s lists in the last year, not to mention the now huge popularity of the band. While first listen doesn’t immediately knock you off your feet, Forgiveness Rock Record seems like a natural progression for the band. The eclectic nature of You Forgot It In People and the revolving door touring begot Broken Social Scene, and the band turmoil, hiatus, and side projects have begot Forgiveness Rock Record.

The album starts with “World Sick,” an epic track that eases its way out of the speakers. It’s a song akin to putting a pot on the stove, letting it come right to the point of boiling over, and then removing it before the hot water spills everywhere. “World Sick” builds and builds, and just as its about to hit as triumphant climax, it starts to back away. It’s as well crafted a song as the band has mustered since You Forgot It In People, and manages to properly acclimate the listener to what they’re about to hear. “Chase Scene” features processed drums, reverb soaked guitars, and the a haunting, looming violin part to accompany it. “Chase Scene” sounds most similar to the songs on Drew’s solo effort, Spirit If…, especially the song “Frightening Lives.” “Texico Bitches” features the clicking drums of “Fire Eye’d Boy,” and holds a mostly hypnotic pace that is seemingly impossible not to enjoy. “Forced to Love,” like “World Sick,” is as solid a song as the band has ever written, one that features a sing-a-long chorus in a way only Broken Social Scene could manage one, with the lyrics “Because we’re forced to love/All the time.” “Forced to Love” is Forgiveness Rock Record‘s best song, the type of song that demands loud speakers on a sunny day.

Lisa Lobsinger, who joined the band during their live shows for Broken Social Scene, dominates “All to All” with her gorgeous, ambient voice bouncing off the drum machine clicks and reverbed guitars. Without vocals, “All to All” would fit nicely on Feel Good Lost, and somehow manages to have a classic Broken Social Scene sound, but one that we’ve never hear before, an indie-rock chamber dance song. Andrew Whiteman’s “Art House Director” revels in the type of horns and syncopated drumming that are characteristic of his tracks with Broken Social Scene and Apostle of Hustle, and like “Forced to Love,” is a song for dancing and having fun. “Highway Slipper Jam” seems to try to reach back into songs like “Looks Just Like the Sun” and “I’m Still Your Fag,” but doesn’t seem to quite land it, but not really for lack of trying. “Ungrateful Little Father” has it’s fill of danceable drums, but the song for an “ungrateful little mother fuck” reaches it’s climax just over half-way through, spending the rest of the time floating through ambient flares and clicks. It’s followed though by the epic, rafter reaching instrumental “Meet Me in the Basement,” a song that many bands try to make, but few can accomplish it, as Broken Social Scene does. Emily Haines makes her big appearance on the fantastic “Sentimental X’s,” which seems to feature Broken Social Scene’s new mantra in repetition: “Off and on is what we want.” The lyric is a startlingly direct and heartfelt sentiment from a band that seems to really prefer to just play music and put the lyrical meanings behind that. By the time the song hits the steady drumming and Haines’ voice starts to fade behind the wall of sound, the song soars upwards, and behind “Forced to Love” is the next best track on the album.

Unfortunately, “Sentimental X’s” is followed by “Sweetest Kill,” which takes a lot of the momentum the album has been building towards, and abruptly slows down. It’s not a bad song, it just feels out of sequence behind a rafter-reaching anthem and “Romance to the Grave,” a song that builds and builds until its final third goes into the type of lovely Broken Social Scene vibe one has come to expect and love from the band. Brendan Canning takes his biggest swing on the ramshackle rocker “Water in Hell” a song that demands toe-tapping and seems destined for a life time of crowds shouting “there’s water in hell!” back at the band. The power and energy of “Water in Hell” is rather abruptly stopped with the album’s goofy closer, “Me and My Hand,” which plays out way to seriously considering how silly it is. That’s the kind of guy Kevin Drew is, at least based on his stage persona, so I guess it couldn’t come as a total surprise.

Put simply, Forgiveness Rock Record is a really enjoyable album to listen to. Its first two thirds are extremely solid, and are about as good as anything else the band has done, but it’s the few hiccups in the middle and towards the end that either disrupt the album’s flow or don’t seem to have fully reached their potential that ultimately keep this record from topping the band’s previous work. This is the problem a band with such acclaim and exceptions has I suppose, but it’s also important to remember how good the good parts of this record are. As a result, the aspects of the record I didn’t enjoy didn’t seem to bother me too much. In the end, this seems to play into the drive behind Forgiveness Rock Record. Broken Social Scene put so many fractures into such a tight group of friends, and Forgiveness Rock Record, it’s good parts and only okay parts, serves as a sonic reconciliation of everything the band has and will continue to do. Forgiveness Rock Record may not be perfect, but it’s Broken Social Scene.

Michael’s Score: 80
TUiW Grade: B+