

It felt more abstract than a lot of other indie rock coming out at the time. When I listened to rest of the album, I knew it was special. It was nothing I had really heard before. I remember a rush coming on the first time I heard that track - the fast snare rolls, the fierce cymbal crashes, what sounded like eight jangly guitars layered over one another. “Anthems for a Seventeen Year Old Girl” was catchy, but too poppy “Almost Crimes” had moments, but wasn’t loud enough “Cause = Time” should have cascaded into an overwhelming crash, but never did. I had never listened to their second album, You Forgot It In People, apart from a few tracks my older brother would blast on the living room stereo here and there, and none of them really stuck with me. Neel Patel: The eponymous record was my introduction to Broken Social Scene.

What about you guys, are we the only ones who still listen to this thing or what? When did you first come across this band and record? This record formed the types of indie rock that I still listen to today - semi-grandiose yet scrappy rock with thoughtful, melodramatic lyrics. Instead I’m just constantly reminded about how good it still is. I’m never pining for the past when listening to this record. Whenever I listen to particular tracks I can still picture shifting moments of first listening to it in college, but it never makes me become overly nostalgic. But weirdly enough it’s also a record that specifically defines a place and time for me. It’s a record I still listen to quite a bit. Sean Hutchinson: It kind of blows my mind that Broken Social Scene is 10 years old, not because thinking about it reminds me of the slow lurch of time marching me closer to my demise, but because it still seems fresh in my mind somehow.
