You’re never exactly sure what you’re going to get at a Broken Social Scene concert. At any given show, you could have members from Metric, Stars, Feist, Apostle of Hustle, or any of the other bands signed onto Art & Crafts Records (just look at their line up and take your pick) playing on the stage in one chaotic rock symphony. Hell, K-Os could even show up for some free-styling and crowd-surfing. Naw, I’m kidding: that’s just myth.
Tonight was going to be a surprise indeed. With both Metric and Stars doing separate tours, a void was left where Emily Haines or Amy Millan would have been to sing. Perhaps opening act Feist would lend her voice? An interesting proposition. Leslie Feist had sung with the band both on their sophomore album, You Forgot it in People, as well as their more recent self-titled release.
Feist’s opening act was somewhat short, but followed the old adage of “quality over quantity”. The set was a mix of slow, mellow songs such as “Gatekeeper” and a solo effort of “When I was a Young Girl,” and more upbeat numbers such as “Mushaboom”. As opposed to the staunch “avoid interacting with the audience at all costs” attitude that some bands adopt, Feist exchanged banter with the crowd, encouraged them to sing along with her and even went so far as to invite some audience members to share the stage with her and dance.
The music itself was a kind of backroom pop - you could relax to the laid-back grooves and beats, and occasionally break out into a dance when the faster tempos hit. It was in no way your traditional rock show. As Feist put it herself, “We tried to put the ‘roll’ back in rock’n’roll.” And indeed, there was no moshing, fist-pumping or crowd-surfing. The set consisted merely of a girl on a stage, playing a guitar that looked much too large for her while singing sweetly into a single microphone.
Feist closed with not a good-bye but a so-long, telling the audience, “…hell, we all play in Broken Social Scene anyways,” as she left the stage.
Twenty minutes and thirty amp replacements later, Broken Social Scene announced their presence with horns a-blaring, guitars a-strumming and drums a-kicking. Kevin Drew’s wispy voice was in there too, buried beneath the clamor but still audible. Each of their songs flowed seamlessly into the next, unifying their set into separate movements within one grand musical piece.
As good as the show was, it didn’t last. Big bands mean lots of equipment, and as a consequence, more work for the stage crew and a greater likelihood of mistakes. Around the fifth song, static shot not from the house speakers, but from all the on-stage amplifiers. The noise was so loud that the band stopped playing, some members even covering their ears. Soundman Mike came on stage to try to fix the problem, while Drew apologized to the audience. The opus had been interrupted. A few short moments later, everything appeared to be fine, as Broken Social Scene got right back into it with “Fire-Eyed Boy”. But no sooner then they had started, all ten who were on stage at the time again threw their hands over their ears with such unison that it could have been choreographed.
Though a lesser band might have given up, Broken Social Scene took it in stride. Drew came on stage by himself to entertain the audience as more extensive troubleshooting occurred. The audience got more than they bargained for as Drew turned the show over to the crowd, asking for questions. Among the usual “What is your favourite colour?” queries, there were some more entertaining ones as well:
Crowd: “Do you like Radiohead?”
K.D.: “Can we have some real questions here?!”
Crowd: “Can you play Frank Zappa?”
K.D.: “We play Frank Zappa every time we’re on stage.”
Crowd: “Can you get naked?”
And yes, Kevin Drew proceeded to remove sweater, shirt, and pants, only drawing the line at his boxers. The girls went wild. Well, not really.
After several more questions (“Can I jam with you sometime?”… “No.”), Soundman Mike, the unsung hero of the night, informed the band that everything was fixed, and Drew quickly clothed himself to bring the show back on track. In no time, the stage erupted with life.
Broken Social Scene reached back to their sophomore album for the middle of the show. “KC Accidental” and “Almost Crimes” reignited the crowd, while the indulgent guitar solos during “Stars and Sons” kept it on its collective toes. Brandan Canning was jumping all over the stage with his bass while John Crossingham couldn’t seem to get off the floor with his guitar.
Crossingham himself was only one of an entire pack of guitar players: half of the fifteen people on stage seemed to have one, giving the sound the sort of depth one that would expect from a symphony. Leslie Feist and the rest of her band returned to the stage, as promised, to add more bodies to the orchestra. A modest horn section of two trumpets and a flugelhorn got the job done on songs like “Shorelines (7/4)” and “Ibi Dreams of Pavement”. Even “I’m Still Your Fag” was done well with the flugelhorn, although nothing could match Evan Cranley’s trombone solo (who unfortunately was away touring with Stars at the time). As for “Anthems…”, it was pulled off wonderfully by band newcomer Lisa Lobsinger, of the now defunct Reverie Sound Revue.
The show was brought to a close with the spectacular “It’s All Gonna Break.” Kevin Drew, the tireless showman, would sing, “It’s all…”, pausing to let the crowd cheer before the rest of the tireless band could explode with,“…GONNA BREAK!”. The song built and built till the final coda, guitars upon horns upon drums, everyone trying to outplay everyone else, but with all competition set aside.
No matter what trouble or burden of work or school might have awaited you the following day, you couldn’t help but grin with giddiness at the incredibly display of camaraderie on stage, and be glad you were you part of it.
-Ludwik A. Sobiesiak
