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Monday, June 27, 2005

Don't Rely On Rock N Roll
We’re still sort of surprised that anyone likes Broken Social Scene. Not that we don't think they should be annointed with the finest oils and paraded through the streets like conquering heroes (who have won for us our freedom from a king who banned ice cream). Because they should be. It’s just that we guess we’d always figured it was just the 36 of us who liked them.

Obviously that’s ridiculous. But if we had had to guess at the number of people who enjoy Broken Social Scene records, we probably would have said something like 73. Or 587. If you included the United States, Europe and the Pacific Rim, perhaps 7,385. If you expanded the search to cover all Broken Social Scene-related bands (Stars, Metric, Feist, Jason Collett, Apostle of Hustle, Most Serene Republic, Do Make Say Think and so forth), let’s say 12,981.

We were, in hindsight, a little off.

Adjusting for the guy we saw in a football jersey this afternoon (a Warren Sapp jersey, to be exact). And the woman breast-feeding. And the guys in various shirts endorsing Jesus. And the hippies (oh the hippies). And assuming few of them were there to see Triumph of Lethargy (and subtracting the one dude we encountered who was apparently a very close-minded, single-issue Modest Mouse fan)... We’d place that number closer to 3.5-million. Not necessarily 3.5-million. But closer to 3.5-million than we’d previously figured.

(Said band was quite good. But then you probably already knew we were going to say that. Rather large horn section. All three ladies. New stuff was easy to get behind. We may have mentioned this before, but someone once argued in our presence that all Broken Social Scene wants to do is throw the best reggae party ever. Or words to that effect. Makes a lot of sense.)

(Metric are probably going to be the next U2. And they have two nearly perfect songs. And have dozen qualities we generally look for in a band. And we like them. We just... don’t... quite... love them. For some reason. Sorry. It’s not you. It’s us. Or maybe bad timing.)

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