Markie Posts

Broken Social Scene @ The Culture Room in Ft. Lauderdale on 11/1/06 - Sorry the pic's kinda crappy, but I'm legally blind, so that's what you get

The maximum-capacity audience present at Broken Social Scene’s November 1st show at the Culture Room in Ft. Lauderdale was so revved-up by the Toronto-based band’s mere act of flat, eight-hour, and severely boring travel down to South Florida that some inspired few squirmed their way up above sardine-packed bodies in order to crowd surf. A sighting, unless you frequent hardcore or punk rock shows, as common as a Texas red fox (extinct) humping a sea mink (also extinct) and was immediately extinguished by the bands disapproving words of “Don’t do that. There’s a certain age you reach where that shit isn’t cool anymore, so stop.”

Yet, for some reason or another, I did not share this unbridled enthusiasm. Maybe it was the weather (rainy, rainy, rainy), Sir Stink-a-Lot who slid in front of me mid-show, the combination of my small bladder, beer, and the horrendous placement of the club’s bathroom, or maybe, just maybe, I was slightly disappointed. The thing I like most about Broken Social Scene is that their music sounds like a wild animal, howling, fleeting, and breaking conventional rules. They rarely use hooks and “Fire Eye Boy” is one of the only repeating choruses I can think of off the top of my head. Their sound is layered with guitars, bass, drums, beat, voices, strings, keys, and horns that are all running in a pack individually, but essentially joined as a stampede.

Yet the sound didn’t seem to translate as strongly live. After the show, in the venue’s parking lot when asked what I thought of the show, my initial opinion was musically strong (plenty of flawless guitar solos and jam-band-ness that endured an hour’s worth of show in horrible S. FL humidity) but vocally weak.

Two of the band’s female vocalists, Emily Haines (Metric) and Leslie Feist (Feist), were off doing individual tours, and were replaced by the pretty, puffy-haired Lisa Lobsinger. Although Lobsinger, undoubtedly can sing, her voice wasn’t nearly as vocally stunning as Haines or Feist, leaving me, at one point, wanting to jump up on stage, grab the mic from Ms. Lobsinger, and belt out some of my favorite tunes drama-club-auditions-for-Grease-style; bursting with pure zeal. Lobsinger lacked luster, her frail voice flicked up and shot into oblivion like a tiny pebble in the midst of galloping hoofs.

Regardless, I still love the band and have been rocking a medium purple BSS T-shirt I bought at the show for the past thirteen days...and it stinks…like yo’ momma’s pootang….ewe, not really, just like a dirty shirt…that needs to be cleaned…badly….okay, this needs to end now.