The Evolution of Broken Social Scene: A Reflection on 'Remember The Humans'
There’s something profoundly human about Broken Social Scene’s latest album, Remember The Humans. It’s not just the title that hints at introspection; the entire record feels like a mature, nuanced conversation about life, loss, and the passage of time. Personally, I think this album marks a turning point for the band—one that reflects not just their musical evolution but also their personal growth. What makes this particularly fascinating is how they’ve managed to capture the essence of their earlier work while simultaneously breaking away from it.
The Reunion That Wasn’t About Nostalgia
One thing that immediately stands out is the reunion with producer David Newfeld. After a two-decade hiatus, his return feels less like a nostalgic callback and more like a necessary reconnection. In my opinion, Newfeld’s presence on Remember The Humans is pivotal. His ability to craft a ‘wall of sound’ that complements Kevin Drew’s emotive vocals is a masterclass in production. But what many people don’t realize is that this reunion wasn’t just about revisiting old times—it was about healing old wounds. Newfeld’s admission of feeling ‘wounded’ when the band moved on without him in the early 2000s adds a layer of emotional depth to the album. If you take a step back and think about it, this reconciliation is a testament to the band’s willingness to confront their past and move forward.
The Absence of Anthems
What’s striking about Remember The Humans is what’s missing. The anthemic, horn-driven crescendos that defined tracks like Lover’s Spit are notably absent. Instead, the album leans into a more reflective, mellow sound. From my perspective, this was a deliberate choice—one that speaks to the band’s awareness of the divisive times we live in. Drew’s comment that ‘hope needs a new publicist’ is both poignant and revealing. It raises a deeper question: Can music still rally people without resorting to grand, celebratory gestures? I think Broken Social Scene is betting on subtlety over spectacle, and it’s a gamble that pays off.
The Chaos of Collaboration
Broken Social Scene has always been a ‘sprawling collective,’ but this album highlights just how much their dynamics have shifted. Band members now live in different cities, juggle solo careers, and have families. Yet, they’ve managed to create something cohesive. A detail that I find especially interesting is how Newfeld designed songs where even the band members weren’t sure what parts they played. This chaos, as Charles Spearin calls it, is both a challenge and a strength. What this really suggests is that Broken Social Scene thrives on unpredictability—a quality that’s increasingly rare in today’s polished music landscape.
The Weight of Time
Time is a recurring theme in Remember The Humans, both lyrically and metaphorically. The album feels like a meditation on aging, loss, and the choices we make. The track Not Around Anymore is a perfect example—a serene yet haunting reminder to live in the present. What makes this particularly fascinating is how the band manages to address heavy themes without becoming maudlin. In my opinion, this balance between vulnerability and restraint is what sets the album apart. It’s not just music; it’s a reflection of where the band is in their lives.
The Future of Broken Social Scene
As I listen to Remember The Humans, I can’t help but wonder what’s next for the band. Their ability to evolve while staying true to their core identity is commendable. But what many people don’t realize is that this evolution isn’t just musical—it’s existential. The band’s willingness to embrace change, confront their past, and experiment with new sounds suggests they’re far from done. If you take a step back and think about it, Broken Social Scene is a rare breed: a band that grows up without losing its soul.
Final Thoughts
Remember The Humans is more than just an album; it’s a statement. It’s a reminder that music can be both personal and universal, reflective and resonant. Personally, I think this is Broken Social Scene’s most mature work to date—a record that rewards repeated listens and invites introspection. What this really suggests is that, even after two decades, the band still has something meaningful to say. And for that, I’m grateful.
