The Listomania I make the lists, you shoot them down. Quid Pro Quo.

24Nov/09Off

126. Broken Social Scene – 7/4 (Shoreline)

Apologies to those of you who already know a bit about Broken Social Scene (which you should, god dammit) but this needs to involve some history for those who don't. So there were these two bearded guys making no money in the Toronto indie scene at the turn of the millenium, Kevin Drew and Brendan Canning. And they recorded an album that wasn't very good, but they released it anyway, and decided they wanted to play it live. When they did so, it sucked. Who wants to see two hipsters who are only marginally good on their instruments play a shitty album? So to make the live show more interesting, they started just inviting everyone they knew in the fairly vibrant Toronto scene to come play with them. And thus, Broken Social Scene was born. A supergroup, except no one knew of any of the solo artists or other bands until AFTER Broken Social Scene, well, broke. You know a couple people from that original live balloon-up. Leslie "One Two Three Four" Feist, some people from Stars, some people from Metric, a guy from Do Make Say Think, the girl from Thee Silver Mt. Zion. There are more, but really, you started not knowing these bands three examples ago.

Then as a group they put out an AMAZING album. But that's not where this song came from. "7/4 (Shoreline)" is from 2005's merely very good eponymous album. And it shows the band at the height of it's bloated, 20-member indie-chamber-orchestra power. What is that, like 15 people singing the opening lines of the song? At least two girls, including Feist, who then gets the main parts of the verses. Yeah, you recognize that voice. But listen to how much simple orchestration is lying beneath. Live, there are maybe 6 guitars playing, and that comes across in the studio version as well. There is just a lot of EVERYTHING, and it would seem like overkill and self-indulgence, but it still works because the song is damn good. Well-written, rooted in traditional song format enough to stay together but still climactic and loud and messy. "It's coming, it's coming" is my favorite part of the song. When you can feel a room full of musicians, friends, lurching forward together towards one cacophonous goal.

Then the horns come in. Like they had been hiding behind the row of guitars during the recording, an full horn section rolls in to play an entirely organic melody line that has been bubbling just beneath the surface since the opening chords. And the horns get the limelight at the end of the song, with all the singers taking a back seat. That is how friends play, they share it. And although it's not their best song or album, "7/4 Shoreline" really shows Broken Social Scene for what they have been - a giant mess of friends trying to sort themselves out live. We're lucky to get to observe the jumbled chaos.

Also. This is another act on the very short list of great bands whose entire recording careers have fallen into this decade. Someone write some comments and give me more examples of bands on that list. I'm thinking about it myself.

8Nov/09Off

143. TV on the Radio – DLZ

There’s a teency weency list of fanTASTIC bands whose entire careers have taken place within the last decade. Short as in less than the number of official Beatles LPs. But over the course of five years (I know, technically seven, but to spare ourselves we’re not counting the truly unlistenable Ok Calculator) TV on the Radio have amassed a catalog with three separate Album of the Year contenders. It’s actually kind of unfair to other bands at this point. Like with Radiohead or The White Stripes, when a new album by TVotR drops, all other bands get ready to play catch up.

So “DLZ” is the best song on TVotR’s third consecutive Unfairly Good album, 2008’s Dear Science. It’s not one of the two singles. It’s not a show piece. It’s not an epic jam. But to me, it’s the emotional centerpiece, the guts, the cornucopia if you will of the dinner table of their career. A slow groove that builds up from overlapping drum beats and ethereal vocal clatter, the beacon in this song is not Sitek’s guitar rips, but Tunde Adebimpe’s most passionate vocals ever. “This is beginning to feel like the long-winded blues of the never.” Really listen to the song and try to admit to me that when Tunde pushes through the layers of orchestrated fuzz with those lines, you don’t feel something right in your gut. And when he kicks the door down with “Never you mind, death professor,” tell me you don’t air kick along with him, busting anything in your way into a million little pieces. And if you don’t have that reaction, it’s time to check your pulse.