People liked the fact that just about every Canadian band of note was either represented in the collective or was just a degree or two separated. Broken Social Scene was celebrated by critics for its dramatic flair and for high-degree-of-difficulty stunts like slipping a trombone into the mix and making it sound like it belonged. You Forgot It in People was a critical smash, paving the way for the great musical invasion from the north that’s still going strong today (Wolf Parade and Constantines are worthy of attention). To my ears, it sounded like a class project. The melodies were sweet, but the arrangements suffered from too much democracy-a whole bunch of different singers and every instrumentalist under the sun: banjo pickers, violinists, horn blowers, you name it. debut, 2003’s You Forgot It in People, seemed to bear this out, buckling under the weight of its good intentions. I’m all for collaboration, but given that the Ringos of the world outnumber the Pauls and Johns, I much prefer egocentric control freaks. Broken Social Scene is usually described as “a rock collective,” a term that makes me want to gag.

1972 broken social scene