By: Jonathan Lundeen |
Sunday February 19, 2006 |
Genrerock PublisherArts & Crafts External Links |
I figured the streak would have to come to an end at some point - that an album stemming from the Canadian collective Broken Social Scene would fail to engage and excite my ears in any way. Putting aside the disappointingly underrated post-breakthrough album by BSS themselves, the members and their various offshoot projects had been riding a huge winning streak as far as I'm concerned. Whether it was Andrew Whiteman's Apostle of Hustle work, Feist's achingly beautiful Let It Die, or the latest albums from Metric and Stars; there was rarely a time when a disc with the Arts & Crafts logo stamped on its back wasn't within arms reach. But for some odd reason I fully expected BSS guitarist Jason Collett's new album to be the one to let me down. Even as I scanned the liner notes and saw promising names like Kevin Drew, Feist, Emily Haines, and Amy Milian - I couldn't shake the clouds of doubt forming over this one.
Yeah, big mistake. This album has actually grown to be one of my very favorites of the bunch, landing just behind the two most recent proper BSS releases and just ahead of Let It Die. Collett strikes a more relaxed, organic sound than one would expect throughout Idols of Exile, following in the footsteps of influences as wide ranging as The Beatles, Jeff Lynne, Calexico, and Wilco. It would be unfair to label this as simply as "countrified" or "folksy," but neither descriptor would be off the mark either. The twelve tracks on Idols rest heavily on the tradition of 1970's singer-songwriters like Jackson Browne or Bob Dylan, but with far less linear narration and a knack for subtle pop twists that recall Nilsson more than Springsteen. But the most surprising thing about the album is Collett's way with words and how he manages to invoke simple images and pure moments, almost like a Canadian, indie rock version of Norman Rockwell (though Collett's world is far less innocent than Rockwell's). Lines such as "I carved a hole right through my heart/from the very start/anticipating the myth of you" are as abstract as they are universal, letting you in on the pain without need for a flowery set-up. His duet with Metric's Emily Haines on "Hangover Days" is the album's shining center, bouncing along on a rhythm borrowed from "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da" that almost fools you into thinking it isn't a depressing song about a failed love affair.
If you go into this album expecting more of what you heard on You Forgot It In People, you might be momentarily disappointed - as the joyous "I'll Bring the Sun" is the closest the album comes to a Broken Social Scene track proper. But you'll get over the disappointment fairly quickly once Collett's distinct imagery and impeccable songcraft soak in. Throw in the immense talent level brought by the album's wide cast of characters and you've got yourself a great album to soundtrack those lazy beer drinking nights on the back porch. "Americana" doesn't really apply here and "Canadiana" just sounds stupid, so we'll file this one right where it belongs - under "damn fine music." Oh Broken Social Scene, how wrong I was to ever doubt you.