I don’t think I can ever write a full review about Broken Social Scene – my favourite band – because it will always be biased and I don’t think I can ever do the band, or their music, any justice. But today, inspired by Pitchfork’s “Best New Music” review of BSS’ new album Hug of Thunder, I want to write about how the album relates to my philosophy of cynical idealism and how this album speaks to me, hitting me hard.
Ian Cohen’s review – who, admittedly, I hate and who I think is the worst writer on Pitchfork’s roster – wrote a striking paragraph about the new album:
Frustrated by people touting concepts of “radical community” and “self-care,” yet spending most of their day treating people like shit online? Hug of Thunder is too. Feel like a washed outcast when confronted by the sterility of festival music and the humiliating sound degradation of digital streaming? Hug of Thunder is too. Tired of nihilism being presented as the only option for rational thinkers? Hug of Thunder is too. While there’s an undeniable power in commiseration, Hug of Thunder is invigorated by the missionary spirit of the band’s best work. Drew and company try to make converts of lapsed idealists and people that remind him of his former self.
Everything about the album screams an idealistic skew on top of cynicism. It’s a feeling of weariness about the world, about the times that we live in, and the people we encounter. But there’s a sense of hope and an attempt to “get better,” as the penultimate track proclaims.
Sonically, this cynical idealism is represented by the sprawling guitars, the triumphant horns and the wall of sound that just hits you. But then it draws you in during the softer songs on the album, particularly in the final half of the record.
I love lines on “Halfway Home”, sung by Kevin Drew and Emily Haines. “Come right/Into the sunlight/’cause I see their cold eyes/I fear they still grow,” shows their cynicism for the world. Meanwhile, “You will forget/Call out for a change/And not believe in anything.” taps into the anger of today’s society, “call[ing] out for a change” but reprimanding them for their cynicism. The band asks us to “Stay Happy,” singing “You set me straight at love/With your fists up and your bracelet,” proclaiming that they’ll beat the love into you.
On the title track, “Hug of Thunder”, Feist shows her cynicism about the past singing, “How could I say at what point I would gain perspective let alone know I had it?” and “All along we’re gonna feel some numbness/Oxymoron of our lives.” But again, she returns to hope: “Catching up and climbing life/Speaking like a hug of thunder/Lit up by the lights at dusk outside.” There’s a little bit of light in the darkness, and that’s what we should be reaching for.
On standout tracks “Please Take Me With You” and “Mouth Guards of the Apocalypse,” Drew goes full cynical. He wants to get away from the world pleading, “Please take me with you/I’m so tired/All the fools are winning.” He laments, “How did this happen/Yeah, everybody quit” and “And the radio sounds like shit/If you can’t help me/Then help someone like me/’cause it all went away, and it went quietly.” He says, “Words of hope are a joke for the numb/The poets a liar and we all want some.” And in the bleakest moment of the album, he screams,
“This fight is a ghost
Whose suicide was unseen
I’m done, I’m done
I wanna kill all my friends
I wanna grab them from the dark
And show them their end”
This is me. This is how I feel. I could have said those exact words.
And yet, Drew says, “It’s you/It’s me/And it’s all we believe/I’m trying for the living and I’m staying.” It’s a proclamation of survival. It’s a declaration that I’m going to stand against the growing darkness and try to live life.
I am that lapsed idealist who tends to lean towards cynicism. ut life draws me back, showing me that the world and the people that we encounter have much to teach me – and I need to hope to find the goodness in everyone. As Ariel Engle sings, “Things’ll get better/’cause they can’t get worse, oh… don’t let them speak for you.”