Broken Social Scene materialized in 1999 when K.C. Accidental's Kevin Drew and Brendan Canning, formerly of By Divine Right, bonded their friendship into a band. They spent the next few years honing an atmospheric rock sound in their native Toronto and the dynamic was great. Feel Good Lost marked their debut album in 2001 and introduced a revolving cast of Canadian indie musicians. Drew's fellow mate from Do Make Say Think, Charles Spearin, was added to the band, as well as Evan Cranley (Stars), James Shaw, and Emily Haines (Metric). By the time their guitar-fueled sophomore effort, You Forgot It in People, was released in fall 2002, Broken Social Scene had become an 11-piece collective. Jason Collett, Andrew Whiteman, Justin Peroff and Leslie Feist fulfilled the band's bombastic, orchestrated sound and critics loved it. You Forgot It In People was a buzz among indie cohorts and plans for a stateside release on Arts & Crafts was slated for the following summer. A surprise, however, coincided those plans in spring 2003 when Broken Social Scene won a Juno for "Alternative Album of the Year" for You Forgot It In People. In order to maintain praise from critics, the band issued their first ever b-siders & rarities collection, Bee Hives, in spring 2004. For the band's 2005 self-titled studio album, Broken Social Scene once again joined producer David Newfeld. Additional contributions by select members of Stars, Metric, Do Make Say Think, Raising the Fawn, the Dears and others contributed to the ambitious sounds of Broken Social Scene. A joint North American tour with Feist followed its release.Biography By AMG. 
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.
De facto band leader Kevin Drew recently told Pitchfork that Broken Social Scene producer (and NYPD punching bag) David Newfeld "got addicted to the idea of trying to top YFIIP." He added: "His massage therapist says he might die in 10 years unless he changes his lifestyle." It's Newfeld's risky mixing and uncanny knack for coalescing myriad instruments and voices into a propulsive whole that defines this new album. Whereas You Forgot It in People was exacting and refined-- each cymbal crash snipped to perfection, each underlying string melody was spare and to-the-point-- Broken Social Scene is wily and flowing. Just consider each disc's mood-setting introduction: YFIIP's "Capture the Flag" is muted and tasteful; BSS's "Our Faces Split the Coast in Half" gets out of bed, trips, falls down, does a sloppy summersault, and gets back up no worse for the wear. The contrasting titles alone-- one direct, one Dali-esque-- speak volumes. But, however symbolic, "Faces" is only a casual stretch, with follower "Ibi Dreams of Pavement (A Better Half)" serving as the album's first true workout. "Ibi" breaks in with a woozy, five-alarm guitar-- a warning call for the track's off-key surrealism and pile-on distortion. Like the shaky ascent of a homemade rocketship, the song constantly teeters on cataclysmic oblivion; shards of chords slip away and grind against each other as the track embarks. Buried between the static and the void, mumbled vocals are folded in before the brass enters and elevates the endeavor to fist-pumping, room-on-fire glory.
That track's garbled vocals and lyrical ambiguity are filtered throughout this record. With no accompanying lyric sheet, most of the album's highly interpretable words not only provide fans with a time-wasting message-board guessing game but add another layer of atmospheric haze to the group's already out-there takes on sex, politics, and that whole indies-vs.-majors thing. On the wispy, faux-idyllic "Major Label Debut", the chorus could be "I'm all hooked up" or "I'm all fucked up," but either meaning snidely puts down the rockstar clichיs Broken Social Scene are determined to avoid. Anyone's who's been to a Broken Social Scene show over the past few years probably knows "Major Label Debut" as a rollicking, open hi-hat dust storm. But here, that version is relegated to an accompanying EP (otherwise filled with mostly expendable outtakes and instrumentals) while the album version is slowed down and fogged up-- and decidedly less single-worthy. Another live favorite and possible crossover contender, "Superconnected", is still catchy on record, but Newfeld's all-at-once, in-between-vox production subverts any chance at overt smashdom.
"Broken Social Scene" New Album Cover.
Such insular stubbornness leads to Broken Social Scene's few overly self-indulgent moments, when their lack of inhibitions turns from charming to faintly annoying. Their tendency to jam out-- not entirely surprising given bassist Brendan Canning's striking Trey Anastasio-meets-Elmo look-- turn the seven-minute "Bandwitch" into an aimless jumble. Along with the similarly too-free-spirited "Windsurfing Nation" and "Handjobs for the Holidays", such unchecked exorbitance damages the album's hard-won continuity. But a few regrettable overreachings are somewhat inevitable when a band tries to top a record as strong as YFIIP. Looser and slightly kinkier, Broken Social Scene indulges in the pop eccentricities and keen melodic ears of more than a dozen Canadians who take willful pride in their ability to lock together into one solid unit and make good on the sum of their unique individual talents. With its doomsday provocation of a title, the epic Springsteenian endcap "It's All Gonna Break" bursts forth with enough ideas to keep a lesser band productive for years. The song ecstatically encapsulates Broken Social Scene's heightened ambitions and flawed Icarus journeys, conflating into a bold, brash love-in infatuated with its own bumps and bruises.
Review By Pitchfork Media. 
Listen To The First Album From 2001 (u'll need real player)
Listen To The Second Album From 2002 (u'll need media player)
The Modest Home Page
Arts & Crafts Page~...............................................................~
Another Interesting Review About The New Album By Tiny Mix Tapes:This may be one of the most difficult reviews of the year. It's a damned if you do, damned if you don't situation. Half the reviews you read are going to praise the Canadian collective's third proper, self-titled album as another masterpiece; the other half are going to trash it, citing the band stretching themselves too thin, that too much is happening in the midst of the album's 14 tracks to catch all of it, even after repeated listens. Of course, I'm going to be difficult and be the margin of error -- that damned 1% that throws the curve out of balance and leaves pollsters scratching their heads. Why are these people still straddling the fence? All the above comments I've made about Broken Social Scene's latest effort are true: It is a masterpiece, if you measure masterpieces by reputation and assumption. The band's stretching themselves a little thin, if you measure thin as sleeker production, more lush sounds, and overextended musical interludes. But I pose this question: Isn't this what Broken Social Scene has been hanging their hat on since they burst onto the American music landscape late in 2002? This is a band that makes the same noise whether 6, 7, or 15 people are gracing a stage or a studio booth. They're just carrying on their tradition, and doing so with tight craftsmanship even Bob Villa would be proud to sponsor.
But none of this even remotely describes Broken Social Scene.
This is a classic example of the adage 'the more things change, the more they stay the same.' This self-titled gem mirrors the highs and lows of You Forgot it in People almost to a tee. The opener, "Our Faces Split the Coast in Half," is an instrumentally-driven ditty; and while some faint vocals waft in and out of the track, it's the same up and at them spirit of "Capture the Flag," bottled in a jar and slowly unleashed to an ever-growing crowd of rabid indie kids hungry for something bigger, louder, and in your face. The album's first single "7/4 (Shoreline)" mimics the heartbeat of its cousin "Stars and Sons," before exploding into a fury of horns, walls of guitar, and an impassioned choral plea. "Major Label Debut" recycles the dreamy atmosphere of "Looks Just Like the Sun," with quiet aggressions. However, Broken Social Scene isn't reusing all the same tricks that made You Forgot it in People a surprise hit. "Windsurfing Nation" has a fresh vibe all its own. It's a clever (and danceable) mix of hip-hop, post-punk, and indie ethos. The beats are crisp and expressive, if down-to-earth; the vocal rounds in the chorus are catchy; and the riffs move all over the place, forcefully holding your eardrums for ransom. And maybe K-os' cameo puts the track over the top.
Meanwhile, the subtle horns and jazz rhythms of "Handjobs for the Holidays" create yet another classic BSS track. Besides the attention-grabbing song title, the track holds a quality hard to put a finger on - it's another danceable song, full of understated beats and overstated production; but there's an intangible nature that's layers deep. Not even a drill powerful enough to dig to the song's molten core would discover what truly makes "Handjobs for the Holidays" a keeper. Perhaps the most unusual BSS experiment, "Tremoloa Debut" is a quick, but hard-hitting instrumental built around misplaced guitar slides. It isn't anything to write home about, but it feels as if it's hinting toward new things to come from the band -- we're getting a sneak peak at a new Broken Social Scene that is already moving forward and ready to leave much of the past four years in the dust.
But no matter how much I sit here listening to Broken Social Scene, and no matter how special most of these tracks are, they lack the cohesiveness that made You Forgot it in People, and even Feel Good Lost, something to get ecstatic about. I find myself skipping parts of the album when I'm not in the mood, whereas the previous studio albums put me in the mood for every track just by pressing play. Of course, that can't ruin an album full of noticeable indie hits and diamonds in the rough -- just hinder it. Like any album, the true test will lie in its shelf life. Will I be pulling this out six months from now, twelve months from now, five years from now? It may be unfair to compare this to their heralded masterpiece of 2002; but when a band makes such a stunning album, everything else they release is going to be thrown up against the wall and scrutinized top to bottom just for the sake of tearing it apart. It's impossible to completely deconstruct Broken Social Scene's self-titled, however, and that may be why you should ignore the upcoming lofty praises and put-downs and just listen for yourself. You owe the band that much.
1. Our Faces Split the Coast in Half
2. Ibi Dreams of Pavement (A Better Day)
3. 7/4 (Shoreline)
4. Finish Your Collapse and Stay for Breakfast
5. Major Label Debut
6. Fire Eye'd Boy
7. Windsurfing Nation
8. Swimmers
9. Hotel
10. Handjobs for the Holidays
11. Superconnected
12. Bandwitch
13. Tremoloa Debut
14. It's All Gonna Break 
