Broken Social Scene
park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me
As someone who lived in Toronto his whole life, there was a strong sense of national pride amongst indie fans in the 2000s when Arcade Fire, Broken Social Scene, the New Pornographers, and Feist all broke through on an international scale. It seemed like everybody on university campus was listening to these artists, when just five years prior, indie was much more of a secret. I was there. I was the first guy playing Drake to the rock kids. I played it a Sneaky Dee’s. Everybody thought I was crazy.
My answer to an interview question at Indigo in 2011-2 about what made Toronto special was its music scene, which at the time was true. Drake had not become too big for his britches, newly formed Crystal Castles and Fucked Up were receiving a lot of internet hype, mysterious newcomer the Weeknd had released a mixtape trilogy to huge acclaim and would go on to be one of the biggest male pop stars of the decade, and all of these acts received the coveted “Best New Music” accolade from Pitchfork. Edgar Wright’s Scott Pilgrim vs. the World was just released, and remains the biggest film that was identifiably set in Toronto (as opposed to Toronto masquerading as New York or some other metropolis), and its soundtrack included Toronto’s own Metric as well as Broken Social Scene’s “Anthem for a Seventeen Year-Old Girl” humming gently in the background during an emotional scene. Not to be cynical, but just five years later, there was fewer and fewer Canadian, let alone Torontonian, acts making international, um, Wavves as it were. For a minute there, it seemed like we had something to say besides sorry.
Broken Social Scene’s breakthrough album You Forgot It In People remains truly special, while many other acclaimed indie rock albums from that era—including Broken Social Scene’s own albums afterwards—age poorly with every passing year. Probably because only a fraction of it really quantifies as indie rock. In fact, the song that it’s remembered for most isn’t a rock song at all, and certainly not an anthem despite the title.
It’s worth remembering that Broken Social Scene founders Kevin Drew and Charles Spearin first bonded at music school as Tortoise fans, and then started as the post-rock outfit K.C. Accidental prior to becoming Broken Social Scene, which explains a lot of the non-rock textures and post-rock climaxes that can be found on YFIIP. Kevin Drew is the de facto leader of the Broken Social Scene, singing lead on most of their songs, and founder the Arts & Crafts label that released most of the band’s output. Born to British immigrants, Drew was pulled into the arts at a young age and attended the Etobicoke School of the Arts where he studied drama along with Metric’s Emily Haines and Star’s Amy Millan, both of whom would be part of the Broken Social Scene collective, but eventually moved to music when he “realized that the parties were better with the musicians.”
