Broken Social Scene's "You Forgot It In People"

You Forgot It In People
Broken Social Scene
Released October 15th, 2002 (Paper Bag/Arts & Crafts)
Written by S.M.

I knew I was destined to be into this record before even hearing it. Typically when one is given a copy of an album by their significant other-- in my case, my girlfriend of two years by that point, packaged alongside a Weakerthans t-shirt and a ticket to go see the Microphones-- they can expect to get into the piece of music simply by a lovely association. The track "Lover's Spit" some time later appeared on a mellow mix she made for me; she also used select tracks to create atmosphere in a high school theatre production. We may've listened to it in a bedroom, dazed in some post-party afterglow... and all that stuff is lovely, but it any case it didn't matter about all these after-the-fact tidbits. You Forgot It In People reminded me of my lover before I unwrapped the plastic.

Before one can argue that I'm taking a completely subjective stance in this critique, I'll also say I was immensely drawn by the tacked promotional sticker, which exclaimed, "The last record was constructed for lovers in bathrooms... this is for the ones who leave their homes looking for hope." What a triumphant setting! I didn't know anything about the band, nor was I familiar with the subdued Feel Good Lost, but all that didn't matter because this was the story of the band coming into the light. This was the breakthrough. The fact that the tracks were divided into two sides on the back cover, just like in the golden age of vinyl, only made me giddier.

Well you can imagine how I felt when I heard the fucking thing. Within the first twenty seconds of "Capture the Flag," the listener is first brought back to those acid bathtubs and lipstick-stained mirrors the band explored in FGL, but this time the main character doesn't pass out in the corner. The majority of the LP's first half examines-- from the epic riot of "KC Accidental" to the wandering "Looks Just Like the Sun"-- our young hero lifting the window sills, swinging open the doors, and finding love in a club. Up until "Pacific Theme," we're into the happy and exciting thrill of life spent in the fast lane, but right before we can forget the sublime silence of solitude, we drop into arguably the record's centerpiece, "Anthems for a Seventeen Year-Old Girl," a heart-felt lament that would elevate me to nirvana if I could only forget that Emily Haines would go on to be the panties-flashing front woman of bloody Metric.

Barring the second-side opener and single "Cause = Time," the rest of YFIIP is spent driving home, or trying to fall asleep while your roommates downstairs are blaring their rave favourites. It is here that I desire to add to that slogan on the promo sticker. The one-two punch of the instrumentals "Late Nineties Bedroom Rock for the Missionaries" and "Shampoo Suicide" seem to meander back into the comfortable dark, rather than traverse outside in search of hope. This tone remains the same to the end of the record, where "Anthems..." is modestly reprised in "Pitter Patter Goes My Heart."

After being released just over four years ago, it isn't hard to see why this record shook up the independant rock scene, let alone my homecity of Toronto, and went on to be on numerous best-of and favourites lists. Although the band do sound fuller and more realized on their next self-titled release, as well as in their debut and as KC Accidental-- when you're in the mood-- this is the release that showcases the band in their most admirable incarnation: a delicate balance of chaotic rock and burnt-out symphonies.

TRACK PICKS:
"Stars and Sons"; "I'm Still Your Fag" -S.M.
"Pacific Theme"; "Lover's Spit" -S.V.
IDEAL LISTENING SETTING:
At sunset, on the way home.
BE SURE TO CHECK:
Akron/Family, Do Make Say Think, Apostle of Hustle, The Arcade Fire