State Theatre Portland
Broken Social Scene

Broken Social Scene

Frightened Rabbit

Thu, October 5, 2017

Doors: 7:00 pm / Show: 8:00 pm

State Theatre

Portland, ME

$31 Advance / $36 Day of Show

This event is all ages

Buy tickets in person at the Port City Music Hall box office (504 Congress Street) Wednesday-Friday 10AM-5PM, charge by phone at 800-745-3000, or online right here. State Theatre box office will open one hour before doors night of show.

Broken Social Scene
Broken Social Scene
“I don’t want to go out there being presumptuous,” Kevin Drew says, “because, I’ve worn those presumptuous shoes before, and you don’t want it to feel like, ‘Oh, what a let-down.’” That’s the fear when you bring back one of music’s most beloved names seven years after their last album. But with Hug of Thunder, the fifth Broken Social Scene album, Drew and his bandmates have a right to feel presumptuous.

They have that right because they have created one of 2017’s most sparkling, multi-faceted albums. On Hug of Thunder the 15 members of Broken Social Scene – well, the 15 who play on the record, including returnees Leslie Feist and Emily Haines – refract their varying emotions, methods and techniques into something that doesn’t just equal their other albums, but surpasses them. It is righteous but warm, angry but loving, melodic but uncompromising. The title track on its own might just be the best thing you will hear all year – a song that will become as beloved as “Anthems For a Seventeen-Year-Old Girl” from their breakthrough album, You Forgot It In People.

Its title, Drew says, captured what he wanted people to feel about the group’s comeback, and how they sound playing together again: “It’s just such a wonderful sentiment about us, coming in like a hug of thunder.”

Broken Social Scene had reconvened, in varying forms, several times over the past four years – the odd festival show here and there, preferably ones that involved the least possible travelling. But the idea that they might turn their hand to something more than greatest-hits sets had been stirring since November 2014, when producer Joe Chiccarelli told Drew the group needed to make a new album.

“He started showing up at our label, asking if we were going to make an album,” Drew recalls. “He just didn’t give up; he just kept saying, ‘You’ve got to strike, you’ve got to do this, the time is now,’ and so finally we agreed.”

As might be expected to be the case with a many-headed hydra of a group, getting all the principals to agree wasn’t easy. Drew’s co-founder Brendan Canning was keen, but Drew and fellow BSS lifer Charles Spearin took more persuading. A turning point for Drew came with the Paris terror attacks of November 2015, which made him feel the world needed an injection of positivity: “It just sort of made us want to go out there and play. Because I think we’ve always been a band that’s been a celebration.“

Canning picks up the story: “By autumn of 2015 we had started getting together and trying some ideas out, just getting back in that jam space, in Charles’ garage. Then we set up shop in my living room and we were starting to come together in a very familiar kind of way, jamming in the living room, eating meals in the kitchen together, because that’s what the band is about: ‘Hey, let’s all get on the same page and get the energies flowing in the same direction.’”

Recording finally began in April 2016 at The Bathouse studio on the shores of Lake Ontario, with later sessions in Toronto and Montreal, before the group went right back to basics. “It was very beautiful the way that it ended in Charlie’s little rehearsal garage space,” Drew says, “after going to all these studios. We just worked there, doing back-up vocals and handclaps and all the shit we used to do when we were younger.” And then it was to Los Angeles, where the album was mixed.

The result is a panoramic, expansive album, 53 minutes that manages to be both epic and intimate. In troubled times it offers a serotonin rush of positivity: “Stay Happy” lives up to its title, with huge surges of brass that sound like sunshine bursting through clouds. “Gonna Get Better” makes a promise that the album is determined to deliver. That’s not to say it’s an escapist record: Broken Social Scene are completely engaged, wholly focussed, and not ignoring the darkness that lurks outside. But there is no hectoring, no lecturing, but a recognition of the confusion and ambiguity of the world. As the title track closes with Leslie Feist murmuring “There was a military base across the street,” the listener is caught in the division between the notional security provided by national defence, and the menace of the same thing.

The gestation of Hug of Thunder was no idyll. When You Forgot It in People made their name, Broken Social Scene were young men and women. Fifteen years on, they were adults in or on the cusp of middle age, and – as Drew puts it – “all the adult problems in the world were happening around us individually, whether it was divorce or cancer”. Three members of the band lost their fathers while the album was being recorded, “and it seemed like the days of going in the studio, getting stoned, drinking five beers and saying, ‘Who gives a fuck?’ were over”.

Then there’s the fact of the size of the ensemble, and the number of competing voices. “You don’t always get the final say with Broken Social Scene,” Canning says, with a certain degree of understatement. He compares the process of getting everyone to agree on a song to party politics: “It’s like you’re trying to get a bill passed through the House – you have to be really committed to wanting to win.”

But, still, if they were to return, it had to be with everybody, no matter if that meant things might get unwieldy. “I’d like to believe that Broken Social Scene can be whatever it can be,” Canning says, “but I think the fact we’d gone away for so long meant we really, we really couldn’t have done the same thing without everyone involved, you know?” The story of Broken Social Scene, he insists, was built on the involvement of everyone, and so if the story was to be continued, those same people had to return.

“The thing that has changed is that the relationships between us are established,” Drew suggests. “And in a family, you ebb and flow and you come and you go and you’re in love and then you’re annoyed – but it’s established now, the relationships aren’t going anywhere, you know? And I think through time, because we’ve been through so much together, personally and professionally, when we’re all on stage, everybody knows what they’re doing, everybody has a melody to back up someone else, you feel supported, you’re a crew, there’s nothing but protection all around you.”

Canning picks up the theme: “Before we were making this record, I said to everyone: ‘We all basically want the same thing, we might just have slightly different road-maps on how to get there. So how do we stray off on certain country roads but get back onto the main thoroughfare?’”

That Broken Social Scene were a family again, driving along the same main road, became apparent to UK fans in September 2016, when the group – with Ariel Engle the latest woman to assume the role of co-lead vocalist – came over for less than a handful of festival shows, to test the waters. Their Sunday teatime appearance at End Of The Road – an ecstatic hour of maximalist music, physically and emotionally overwhelming – ended up being one of the biggest hits of the festival. It achieved what Drew has always felt music needed to do: it created transcendence, a pocket of time where everyone present was living only in the moment.

“My 11 year old nephew asked me, ‘Uncle Kev, why do adults get drunk?’ and I looked at him and thought, ‘OK, brilliant question, I’m going to give a brilliant answer,’” Drew recalls. “And I looked at him for about 10 seconds and I said, ‘Because they want to feel like you. Because they want to feel like a kid again, they want to forget everything, they want to be innocent.’ We are built in a way now where you can’t do that, because you’re walking around with the anti-transcendence box in your pocket, and in your hand, and in your home, and on your bedside table: it’s the anti-transcendence. It’s called your phone! And we’re getting killed, we’re getting killed!”

So what do Broken Social Scene want listeners to take from Hug of Thunder ? Canning wants it to make them “pause for the cause and maybe just leave things in your life alone for 53 minutes”. For Drew, it’s about what it’s always been about: making the connection. “I just hope they understand that there’s others out there, that they’re not alone,” he says. “I know that’s silly! But you’d be surprised how many times I’ve had to tell people, ‘Hey, you’re not alone on this, you’re not alone thinking these things.’ I mean, with the title Hug of Thunder , I want to hold people. I want to fucking hold them. And when we do shows, I’m not: ‘Look at me, I’m elevated up on the stage,’ It’s: ‘We’re here with you, this is us together.’ Broken Social Scene is about the people, and it’s always been about the people.”
Frightened Rabbit
Frightened Rabbit
Ever since Scott Hutchison started releasing music as Frightened Rabbit more than a decade ago, his emotionally honest and incisively worded lyrics have been among the project's most beloved qualities. Over the course of five albums, including their new Painting of a Panic Attack, Frightened Rabbit's frontman has made poetry of his misery, and still somehow managed to make it sound anthemic -- like a triumphant rallying cry rather than a downer. In all of those respects, Painting of a Panic Attack - produced by The National's Aaron Dessner - is the band's most accomplished collection yet. "Great songwriters touch a nerve, and I think Scott really touches a nerve with these songs," says Dessner. "To me, lyrically, this album is a step above anything he's written before."

Beginning with the 2006 debut album Sing The Greys, Frightened Rabbit have become one of the U.K.'s most beloved exports. Though originally self-released, Sing The Greys earned the band a deal with indie label Fat Cat Records, who re-released the album and the two that followed: 2008's Midnight Organ Fight and 2010's The Winter of Mixed Drinks. Their last album, 2013's Pedestrian Verse, marked their Canvasback / Atlantic Records debut, as well as their most critically and commercially successful albums to date. In the UK, that LP was dubbed "a triumph" by The Quietus, while The Guardian described it as "a collection of stirring, instant anthems." Equal praise came from wide swath of U.S. outlets, including Rolling Stone, Time magazine, and Pitchfork, who praised Hutchison's "lucid assessments of social and emotional turmoil." The album also helped Frightened Rabbit achieve new commercial milestones, bringing a Top 10 debut in the U.K..

"I think a lot of this new record is informed by reaching a conclusion of sorts with Pedestrian Verse -- closing a door on a sound that we came the closest to achieving with that album," says Hutchison. After taking some time off from Frightened Rabbit to record and tour in support of the 2014 solo album he released as Owl John, the singer returned to his band with the goal of continuing to explore new approaches to songwriting. One important aspect of that evolution has been a shift to a more collaborative process, with all five band members contributing as songwriters.

Painting of a Panic Attack began in the summer of 2014, when the band -- Hutchison, his brother/drummer Grant Hutchison, bassist Billy Kennedy, guitarist/keyboardist Andy Monaghan, and multi-instrumentalist Simon Liddell (who worked with Hutchison and Monaghan on Owl John and joined Frightened Rabbit after Gordon Skene's amicable departure) -- convened in Wales to begin demoing ideas. "We started as though we were making an instrumental album," Hutchison explains. They wrote and tracked approximately a song a day during the course of a couple weeks and ended up with a dozen ideas that Hutchison took back with him to his new home in Los Angeles, where he would tackle the lyrics.

The singer had relocated there from Glasgow earlier that same year, and, although initially optimistic about the move, he was surprised to quickly discover that he felt profoundly out-of-step in LA. "I don't usually get homesick," he says, "but I'd never gone so far from home for such a long period of time before." Being disconnected by friends, family, and especially his bandmates was a stark contrast to his life while making Pedestrian Verse, where the band moved in together, forging a camaraderie and connection that was, in Hutchison's own words, "gang-like."

As he worked his way through the Wales demos, Hutchison says, "I was circling what could be a central idea for this record -- this sense of not really being sure why I was in LA. But I was still avoiding admitting that that was how I felt." He sent a few tracks to his brother Grant for some feedback. "Grant was like, 'Are you really saying what you think here?,'" Hutchison recalls. "Initially I was pissed, but as I thought about it more I realized that he was right. That, out of the desire for this album to be different, I was avoiding writing about the stuff that actually matters to me and the things that were going on with me at the time. I was fictionalizing a bit too much. And after that conversation, a lot of things came into focus."

The first thing he wrote after that -- the anthemic "I Wish I Was Sober" -- is sure to become one of Painting of a Panic Attack's signature songs. "It's a lonely song," says Hutchison. "There's a lot of that on this record, because I was really lonely in LA. And I think that's what 'I Wish I Was Sober' came to represent: that desperate point where you're like, 'I have had too much and I don't have anyone to lean on.'"

Of first single "Get Out" -- a tune about a lover you'll never get over -- Hutchison says: "'Get Out' is about that person to whom you are completely addicted. They are a drug, and the one that you don't feel like quitting. They live in your blood and will not leave. I've always found it compelling to write about the physical nature of love and loss, rather than the mental aspect. 'Get Out' continues that exploration and takes it to a somewhat obsessive level."

As Hutchison continued to work on the new songs, he reached out to Dessner to discuss collaborating -- maybe writing a couple songs together. The two musicians originally met in 2013, when Frightened Rabbit opened for The National on a month-long tour. But Dessner was also a longtime fan of the band, and quickly became the obvious choice to produce Painting of a Panic Attack. "Before this," Hutchison notes, "we'd never actually worked with a producer who had such a distinct awareness of our catalog and where we'd been as a band. And Aaron was very mindful of that -- what we had done in the past and where we needed to go with this album to take us creatively forward."

Frightened Rabbit arrived at Dessner's Ditmas Park, Brooklyn studio last August with thirty contenders for Painting of a Panic Attack, and whittled down from there over the course of the following month. As they considered which direction the album should take, Hutchison says it became clear that the best tracks were the ones with the most emotional immediacy. "'I Wish I Was Sober' is not the first song I've written about being drunk, and 'Break' is not the first song I've written about being a fuck-up and wishing I wasn't, but it turns out there are many ways of expressing that," says Hutchison. "I think people who are fans of our band come to us for a sense of belonging. I know that's not unique to us, but I really do believe that our music can come to a person at a pivotal point in their life and that we can become this place to consider where you are in the world."
Venue Information:
State Theatre
609 Congress St
Portland, ME, 04101
http://www.statetheatreportland.com/