It’s a mark of the bleak time in which we’re living that one of the catalysts for Broken Social Scene’s reunion was a shared feeling of disbelief and horror at the November 2015 Paris terrorist attack.
Speaking in the run up to Hug Of Thunder’s release, frontman Kevin Drew spoke of how the tragedy brought about a renewed sense of purpose, a desire to connect with people in very much a real and tangible way rather than, as he put it, under the ‘false pretenses of connection’; the act a recognition of a belief that ‘eye contact is becoming a thing of the past’.
In whatever guise and with whatever personnel, Broken Social Scene have very much been the sort of musical proposition which needs to be sampled live, its roster of anywhere from a half a dozen to fifteen(ish) musicians, singers, lyricists and protagonists creating a sprawling artistic legacy that extends well beyond their now five albums.
Even with the decision to re-engage creatively being taken, Hug Of Thunder’s process has still taken more than 18 months to conclude, the nature of the beast perhaps when trying to both coral and organise a group of people, many of whom – such as Leslie Feist – have careers of their own.
Feist contributes here – although most of the female vocal work is done by new guest vocalist and live singer Ariel Engle – but the emphasis it seems is on shaping the inevitable bricolage of different ideas into a cohesive whole. There are moments where both the rest and this melting pot appear to have left BSS in rude health: on Halfway Home they storm over our horizon, the anthemic chorus and open-throttled lower end getting help from some spiritual sounding horns, whilst closer Mouth Guards Of The Apocalypse undergoes a transformational mid-section which grows from introspection into a barnstorming epic, a kitchen sink the only missing ingredient.
Taking those as your only context it would be hard not to cast the revitalised troupe as a worthy and more accessible take on the pitch of fellow Canadians Arcade Fire. Both have art-rock credentials which have them as horses of Troy in the mainstream, but Hug of Thunder’s contours are more easily tamed, from the decanted funk and groove of Stay Happy, the hazy brass and lush melodies of Victim Lover or the gilded pop of standout Gonna Get Better.
BSS co-founder Brendan Canning has admitted that despite the ostensibly upbeat, melodic outer shell of these songs there is, ‘also a certain amount of darkness too’, this undertow the by-product of a tidal wave of bleak news. It’s a pandemic of gloom which somehow they manage to draw on without falling victim to, the collision of ideas on Vanity Pail Kids the only definite moment where too much stimulus combined with an inability to self edit results in something frazzled and messy.
Accused in the past of being unable to steer a clear path through to their message, this time round Canning and Drew have marshaled their personnel – and dozens of nocked thoughts – into songs that are good to hear and you sense were good to make.
If the thought of a collective conjures up in you images of kaftans, free expression and meaningless tokens, as you’ll discover Broken Social Scene is not that band, and Hug of Thunder is definitely not that record.
