Album: You Forgot It in People
Year: 2002.
First off, let me say that "Broken Social Scene" is one of my all-time favorite names for any band ever. Or, “musical collective,” I guess, though I have a helluva time envisioning BSS founder Kevin Drew sneering Lydonesquely to a late-night talk show host: “We’re not a band, we’re a collective.”
And while I recognize that their 2002 breakthrough You Forgot It In People is utterly beloved by indie fans a generation younger than me, I’ve always found it to be a very good record with two tremendous songs – “Cause = Time” & “Almost Crimes,” – and a contender for the Prettiest Song Ever Recorded (Brian Eno Division): “Anthems For a Seventeen Year-Old Girl.”
At first, with singer Emily Haines’ voice altered into a pitch so high the words she is singing are almost totally unintelligible, “Anthems For a Seventeen Year-Old Girl,” is a bit off-putting. They’re so alien, you don’t even notice that she’s not singing over a synth, but rather a slowly picked banjo, strummed guitar and bowed violin.
Then, when the song gets to about 1:10, she sings:
Bleaching your teeth, smiling flash, talking trash, under my window
And right then, the whole world changes.
Suddenly, the banjo and violin take center stage, along with one of the most simply perfect guitar leads I’ve ever heard. It’s sheer elegance in its simplicity.
Then, and over a slow build with the banjo, guitar & violin getting more powerful as it goes on and on the part that makes this song one of my Top 10 – hell, maybe even Top 5 – of the new millennium, Hanes chants over and over again:
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me
Now I know that some people get driven crazy by this kind of repetition, but to me, this is like Doug Yule’s organ solo in the live “What Goes On” or Pete Shelley’s screams of “There is no love in this world anymore” in “I Believe,” No matter how long it goes on, it isn’t long enough.
“Anthems For a Seventeen-Year-Old Girl”
You can talk about genres, artists, albums, or even songs, but sometimes what keeps us coming back to music is the discovery of the transcendent musical moment. For me, “the moment” is the part of the song that fully and utterly engages me; the reason that I keep coming back to it.