For most indie fans, Broken Social Scene are considered indispensable thanks to You Forgot It in People (2002) and Broken Social Scene (2005), which is good news for the mostly overlooked producer David Newfield, who helmed both efforts. The Toronto collective did take quite a step up from their debut album, even if their initial outing was among the first to embrace the indie-electronic sounds that would become prevalent in the years that followed. Now two decades removed, it’s hard to overstate the influence of those early LPs.
When the band last reconvened on Hug of Thunder (2017), they created some of their strongest work to date. Since then, the amorphous group of musicians retreated to their own lives until they heeded that synergistic call. As fate would have it, Newfield and frontman Kevin Drew agreed to collaborate again, perhaps fueled by nothing more than proximity and life events; the two lived near each other, and both had recently lost their mothers. The stylistically dense and horn-heavy record recalls some of their early efforts, leading with harmonizing sounds that celebrate the sum of their parts.
Similar to another expansive project, Dirty Projectors, Broken Social Scene are known for blending Drew’s vision with the great talent surrounding him. The group has the luxury of featuring the now-famous members, who include Leslie Feist, Emily Haines, and Amy Millan (in fact, Metric and Stars are opening for them on their upcoming tour). Instead, other members get a moment in the spotlight.
Former opener Hannah Georgas takes full advantage of the opportunity while leading the vibrant “Only the Good I Keep”. In addition, Lisa Lobsinger, who toured with the band from 2005-2011 (playing the part of those aforementioned female leads), takes the helm on “Relief”, a true standout. Even when other artists are nudged to the forefront, everyone else fills in, allowing us all to appreciate their egalitarian approach.
The decision to feature certain members over others is always fascinating, but what brings people back to Broken Social Scene’s music is their ability to move listeners in surprising ways. True to their aesthetic, subtle fist-raisers a la “Stars and Sons” and “Texaco Bitches” can exist alongside their gentler (“Hug of Thunder”) and more intimate work (“Anthems For a Seventeen Year-Old Girl”). In that same tradition, the spirited “Mission Accomplished (Kingfisher)” sounds perfectly compatible with the tender “Hey Amanda”.
If the ornate introduction of “Not Around Anymore” is any indication, this record is grower, which is a vastly different experience from Hug of Thunder. Bits of light peek through the stretched-out trip hop beat and jazz lounge vibes of “This Briefest Kiss”, a mood set against an otherwise foreboding backdrop. The soft rock of “And I Think of You” sounds sluggish until it opens up into a wonderful convergence of sounds. At times, Drew achieves the tenor of a less pretentious Bono. It’s all very unexpected, but the risks mostly pay off.
In this effort, Drew attempted to achieve an analog quality in a digital world, a universe that has become boundless with the arrival of artificial intelligence. He said, “In 2026, you’re going to see a lot of resurgence of people going back to the roots of who they are, because things in their lifetime have gotten quite lost.” It’s hard to disagree, and lyrics such as “Because we are what we are / Stripped down to elemental scar” (“The Call”) really drive the message home.
Remember the Humans doesn’t strike a tone that only exists in 2026; however, it does feel like the brand of music that only fits within Broken Social Scene’s catalog. For that reason, it will likely have listeners humming along rather than ruminating on the deeper themes embedded within. Once again, the wonder of their music unfolds as each element drives forward almost independently until the glorious sounds converge.