Broken Social Scene: "Broken social scene"

Expectations are a bitch. Ask J.D. Salinger. Or George Lucas. Or Kevin Shields. After Broken Social Scene stumbled out of the incestuous Toronto alt-rock scene with Feel Good Lost-- a postrumental refrigerator-hum stiff of a debut-- few would have guessed this group of scruffed-up bohos had a veritable classic lurking in their collective consciousness. Then, ignited by a rabid internet reception, You Forgot It in People gracefully went boom, and lots of people remembered why they loved indie rock-- the shambling ecstasy, the pitch-perfect experimentation, the unabashed heart-on-sleeveness of it all.Now, with file-sharers queuing up like mad and pre-orders bumping them to Amazon Top 50 status, the collective reacts to the furor by expanding and magnifying; another six members join the brood for its self-titled third full-length, and the band's once-refined studio sound is blown up into a pixilated blur of blood-gush guitars and squall-of-sound production that's somehow meticulously unhinged. This exercise in excess makes the ambitious You Forgot It in People seem positively understated by comparison. Ryan Domball - Pitchforkmedia.com

Bands that draw musicians from other well-known acts are called "supergroups." Broken Social Scene is a supercollective. Ranging from five to 17 members, the Toronto-based outfit includes musicians from Stars, Metric, and many other bands, as well as the up-and-coming Leslie Feist. Frontmen Kevin Drew (formerly of Do Make Say Think) and Brendan Canning (By Divine Right, Len) founded BSS in 1999 and their mission has stayed constant: take a deep love of indie rock and expand on that by making experimental mini-symphonies. Their latest work is not so much a series of songs as it is a musical mood. The infectious cacophony comes through immediately, opening with a rapidly-expanding collection of xylophones and trombones that create Burt Bacharach-style instrumental jaunts, while Kevin Drew's vocals whisper through the melodic mayhem. . Denise Sheppard - Amazon.com

The appeal of Broken Social Scene's 2002 breakthrough album You Forgot It in People was largely contingent on its being blessed with a stinging sensation of spontaneity. The record seemed to creatively unfold as it played: taut grooves sprouted from preoccupied noodling, driving crescendos were harnessed and abused, studio chatter interfered at random moments. The Canadian indie collective stumbled upon a cohesive fluke of sorts, a record built by likeminded musicians mining for that elusive sound of something new. Who cared if the record didn't actually have any songs, in the formal sense -- it was inspired, and that infectiousness made the lack of real compositions irrelevant.
Zeth Lundy - Pop Matters

Quando una band se ne esce con un disco omonimo (che non sia il primo ovviamente) vuole sempre lanciare qualche messaggio alla nazione. Come dire: questo è il nostro disco più rappresentativo. Oppure: sì, siamo sempre noi, uniti e compatti come non mai. Nel caso della piccola indie pop canadese propendiamo per la seconda ipotesi, viste le spinte centrifughe che inevitabilmente caratterizzano un gruppo nel quale ogni elemento ha progetti primari, laterali o solistici. Il problema coi i gruppi originali (e i nostri a modo loro lo sono,a nche prendendo a destra e manca) è che quando si ripetono te ne accorgi di più. In queste nuove quatoridici canzoni citano i si citano continuamente. Carlo Bordone - Il Mucchio Selvaggio

Parola di Bielle
Difficile farsi subito un'idea dei Broken Social Scene. Ma ancora di più farsene un'idea sola! Tanti stimoli, tante citazioni, tante possibili vie di fuga che c'è bisogno di chiedere ancora un attimo prima di capire se ci piacciono veramente oppure no. Teniamo conto che loro sono al terzo disco, ma per me è solo la prima volta che li ascolto. L'effetto primario è positivo: di aria e libertà. A gioco lungo però un filo di stanchezza sembra emergere. Ma forse è solo la fatica di stare tesi all'ascolto. Schema classico con inizio scarno e intro orchestrale (diciamo così !) successivo. Può piacere. Può anche dispiacere. Dal lento quasi folk al rapper infoiato c'è di tutto.