Broken Social Scene Is The New Ryan Adams

Of all the bands hurt by the 21st century's hype cycles, I place Broken Social Scene at the top of the list. Eight years ago, when its second album, "You Forgot It In People," was released it came out of nowhere and was brilliant. Back then, I wrote for my college radio station something about how the record managed to combine all these typically binary traits: electronic yet natural; planned yet spontaneous; eclectic yet unified. On the cover were a few members hunched over the instruments, barely visible but doing something amazing.

The indie-rock world went crazy and Broken Social Scene received lots of deserved accolades. Yet, in the following couple of years, the band quickly shot past the released-one-great-record stage to "One of the Decade's Defining Bands" without releasing any other great records. Since then, they've made lots of appearances at large festivals and on TV and been offered handsome recording contracts, which they declined. Meanwhile, their large collection of friends, who wove back and forth among Broken Social Scene and their other bands, apparently splintered.

Kevin Drew, the lead singer and the band's leader, more or less, seems to have had particular trouble coping with it. I sympathize because he sure got a lot more famous quicker than he expected or maybe even wanted (but the latter is doubtful, considering everyone in a full-time band, deep down in his subconscious thoughts, wants to be famous). But all the quasi-soulful ranting he does about this, about lost loves and lost friends and shipwrecked emotions, has gotten to be too much. He talks about it everywhere, it's splattered all through the liner notes, especially in the 2005 self-titled record, etc.

Drew -- and by extension, Broken Social Scene -- have reached Ryan Adams territory, which no musician should covet. The amount of huffing is far disproportionate to the amount of fame. And the songs are written very quickly, with very basic melodies that don't go very far and would benefit immensely from another week thinking about them. "Meet Me in the Basement," the newest record's newest single, consists of two lines: a mildly crushing five notes in the lower register, a trill in the higher ones. That's it. "Art House Director" is more fun when trying to make up replacement lyrics. And so on.

In reality, Broken Social Scene is playing this fall the same venue in Boston that it played five years ago, and the same appears to be true, at least in size, for other cities. The fan base hasn't grown, which is unfortunate, considering the band's immense talents. These days, the side projects (and actually, Broken Social Scene was originally the side project) are either better, in the case of Do Make Say Think and Feist, or more popular, in the case of Feist and Metric. Feist is obviously very good and very lucky.

Nonetheless, something about the band makes much more sense in concert, when everyone can be exuberant about playing with friends, which is why a video of "Sentimental X's" is above. That song is probably the new record's best because it keeps it simple and lets the women sing.