You Forgot it in People
I can appreciate that music critics and journos have it difficult most of the time. Each month brings a slew of new albums and gigs to review. Looking back over the recent months of musical history could be akin to casting an eye over a gigantic landfill site scoured by crows. For every gem of an album or gig there are vast tracts of mediocrity.
I hope all the hard working music cognoscenti managed to squeeze into the Temple Bar Music Centre last Saturday. It was a night that cured all ills, none more so than gig-fatigue. Broken Social Scene were in town.
For those of you not familiar with the Canadians, they are a loose collective of musicians hailing from right across the colourful strata of the burgeoning Canadian indie music scene. Most of the members are involved with their own bands such as Metric, Do Make Say Think, The Dears, Stars and Apostle of Hustle. Their spiritual leader is multi-instrumentalist Brendan Canning. Who better to marshall such a crazy behemoth of a supergroup than a man with a tincture of Leitrim heritage?
Broken Social Scene shot to underground idol status around the world with their flawless and indefatigable 2002 sophomore album "You Forgot it in People". Padraig introduced me to this album in 2003 and I've never stopped listening to it since. In late 2005 Broken Social Scene released their third long-playing record, cut from a raft of material they had amassed in the previous three years. Quite how they manage to produce music this good when you consider the logistics of meshing 14 band members who mostly have their own tours and records to attend to is astonishing.
The self-titled third album picked up where "You Forgot it in People" left off. Layer upon layer of emotionally intelligent splendour burts forth from almost every track. Somehow they marry a unique tenderness with a pop tempo that makes you want to jump all over the place.
While good material is probably a pre-requisite, an all-time great gig it does not guarantee. Luckily Broken Social Scene brought the whole package to the Temple Bar Music Centre. Great banter with the crowd (although the reviewer in today's Irish Times didn't seem to twig the sarcasm in my jibe "You're very good" shouted at the stage during the gig). Kevin Drew must have been stocking up for Valentine's Day as he got down off stage and walked through the crowd hugging everyone. There were even several broken guitar strings to put the icing on the cake. It's amazing to me now, but apparently they played for around two and a half hours. The fact that they kept the crowd completely fixated for that time is a measure of their cachet.
We managed to get a few words in with Brendan Canning afterwards, he seemed to genuinely have had a ball and loved the crowd. We tried our best to persuade him to hit Electric Picnic later this year which he sounded sympathetic to. That alone would be reason enough for a ticket.
Now all the critics, journos and humble, yet dedicated, gig-goers like ourselves on In Fact, Ah can soldier on through the musical landfill for another year or so armed with the memory of last Saturday night. After all, we don't enjoy the trauma of having to revise our list of all-time-greatest gigs too often.
Published by Paul.
I hope all the hard working music cognoscenti managed to squeeze into the Temple Bar Music Centre last Saturday. It was a night that cured all ills, none more so than gig-fatigue. Broken Social Scene were in town.
For those of you not familiar with the Canadians, they are a loose collective of musicians hailing from right across the colourful strata of the burgeoning Canadian indie music scene. Most of the members are involved with their own bands such as Metric, Do Make Say Think, The Dears, Stars and Apostle of Hustle. Their spiritual leader is multi-instrumentalist Brendan Canning. Who better to marshall such a crazy behemoth of a supergroup than a man with a tincture of Leitrim heritage?
Broken Social Scene shot to underground idol status around the world with their flawless and indefatigable 2002 sophomore album "You Forgot it in People". Padraig introduced me to this album in 2003 and I've never stopped listening to it since. In late 2005 Broken Social Scene released their third long-playing record, cut from a raft of material they had amassed in the previous three years. Quite how they manage to produce music this good when you consider the logistics of meshing 14 band members who mostly have their own tours and records to attend to is astonishing.
The self-titled third album picked up where "You Forgot it in People" left off. Layer upon layer of emotionally intelligent splendour burts forth from almost every track. Somehow they marry a unique tenderness with a pop tempo that makes you want to jump all over the place.
While good material is probably a pre-requisite, an all-time great gig it does not guarantee. Luckily Broken Social Scene brought the whole package to the Temple Bar Music Centre. Great banter with the crowd (although the reviewer in today's Irish Times didn't seem to twig the sarcasm in my jibe "You're very good" shouted at the stage during the gig). Kevin Drew must have been stocking up for Valentine's Day as he got down off stage and walked through the crowd hugging everyone. There were even several broken guitar strings to put the icing on the cake. It's amazing to me now, but apparently they played for around two and a half hours. The fact that they kept the crowd completely fixated for that time is a measure of their cachet.
We managed to get a few words in with Brendan Canning afterwards, he seemed to genuinely have had a ball and loved the crowd. We tried our best to persuade him to hit Electric Picnic later this year which he sounded sympathetic to. That alone would be reason enough for a ticket.
Now all the critics, journos and humble, yet dedicated, gig-goers like ourselves on In Fact, Ah can soldier on through the musical landfill for another year or so armed with the memory of last Saturday night. After all, we don't enjoy the trauma of having to revise our list of all-time-greatest gigs too often.
Published by Paul.
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