Broken Social Scene In Montreal; Captain Beefheart Passes

I mentioned in an earlier post I was going to the Broken Social Scene concert at the Metropolis this past Saturday and in a moment I shall describe what I heard and saw.

First, a quick word on the landmark we call the Metropolis.

Converted in into a nightclub in 1997, the building was erected in 1884 and became a movie theater in 1923 until it evolved into a - growl - porn theater in 1960.  I'm guessing Fritz the Cat found a home there.

With its lustful, licentious past long gone, the current owners have been wise to preserve parts of its 19th century classical decor. It's a shame this is not the case for some of Montreal's downtown landmarks as many have been completely gutted

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I'm a little late with this blog "review" but, hey, I'm busy. As a matter of fact, it coincides with the death of musical innovator (and acquired taste) Captain Beefheart. I own a couple of Beefheart records and that's what it is: an acquired taste. But there's no doubt to the genius it possesses.

Broken Social Scene. The Ontario-based band is essentially five core members, fronted by Kevin Drew and Brendan Canning with a rotating cast of musicians, at least on Saturday night it was, including a horn section and four female singers (including Amy Millan of Stars); thus a broken social scene as drummer Justin Peroff explained to me after the show.

In fact, the constant, comfortable ebb and flow of musicians coming on and off the stage (I counted as many as 14 for one song at one point)  is one major defining characteristic and charming impression one gets from BSS.

No redundant office cubicles with rigid rules here.



That wasn't the only impact pressed upon the eyes and hearts of the roughly 2000 music fans who packed the Met. The defining quality, for me (and really, who but me to know thyself?), was BSS's authentic soul.

The togetherness of the band is reminscent of The E Street Band.

From the first note to the last, it's an explosion of layered, orchestral musicianship in which the listener relentlessly absorbs countless styles and genres.

If you think this can come off as confusing to listen to, you're mistaken. Despite the complexities they take on, they somehow find a way to elegantly convey to people the essence of their art.Much like how a great history writer like Fernand Braudel could take world history and lucidly render it readable to the layman.

For their encore, they brought out special guest star Andy Kim. In introducing Kim, Kevin Drew took a few moments to discuss Kim's music legacy but for me the one thing that hit hard was when Drew explained "Kim is a Montrealer who never played in Montreal." Incredible when you think of it. I don't know how this happened, but it's something that should come to an end once and for all somehow, someway.

Like an elder statesman imparting his artistic wisdom upon the next generation, and joined on stage by his trusted guitarist Derek Downham, Kim played, 'How'd we ever get this way.' A perfect song choice given BSS's natural affinity for Kimesque arrangement. It was a perfect match.

Looking around as they performed, it was clear they nailed it as the crowd nodded approvingly along.

Above all, BSS brings to the music scene something altogether unique not just in how they approach music, but how they choose to live as stars. To the point, Broken Social Scene are about as nice a group of people you'll ever come across.

So much so you want to will them to success.