Broken Social Scene / Apostle Of Hustle

A hugely anticipated show for Turin's indie crowd, the Broken Social Scene live gig delivers pretty much exactly what everyone expected: college-rock vibes with a "post" twist. Opening are Apostle of Hustle, the side project of guitarist-singer Andrew Whiteman (a cross between Springsteen and Willy De Ville?), already familiar as the six-string man in Broken Social Scene.

The formula is clear: soft electronic backing tracks introduce ballads spiced with psychedelia and mid-tempo grooves that occasionally morph into acid suites, like a more rock'n'roll version of Folk Implosion. Whiteman's voice is somewhat let down by the mix, which is a shame, since it proves just as dense and lyrical here as it does in his contributions to BSS. Hints of swing and American Music Club surface, alongside intricate rhythmic/percussive patterns, all wrapped in a very "chilled out" and relaxed mood. Which is more or less the defining trait of the night's "stars" too: a large bunch of Canadian lads with an almost impossibly nerdy look (plus a low-key female vocalist who seems to wander onto the stage almost by accident, like a waitress weaving between tables in a beer hall!) and a thoroughly anti-star attitude. Credit to them for that, given that the success of “I Forgot It In People” could easily have gone to their heads… Still, a bit more work on stage presence wouldn't hurt. It's a bit like: we're here waiting for the tram and it just won't come. Or: when is that waitress finally going to get our order right? Much the same feeling as the music itself, played correctly but almost as if just to fill the time. Passion at a solid zero point five.

Kevin Drew says as much right from the start, asking us if we can imagine what it's like to play the same songs night after night. Very “easy & friendly”, he wonders aloud why the Italian indie crowd is made up almost entirely of beard-and-beer guys, dedicates songs to our mothers and sisters, and concludes that Italy's real problem is that people don't kiss enough. Did he strike out with someone throughout the whole Italian tour? Who knows!

On to the music: a long intro plus trumpet through an echo, walls of crashing guitars, sharp chord patterns and sinuous movements underneath, indie-jam workouts built around the tracks from the album that made their name, while the beard-and-beer crowd goes wild for the classics “Kc Accidental” and “Stars And Sons”. It's all played correctly, but… why five guitars? At least two of them seem pointless. And Dinosaur Jr. did more with just one. Why lean so heavily on that slightly overused trick of 7-8 note horn riffs trotted out song after song, always to the same effect? Sure, the trumpet is very "post", but in the end it comes across as a layer of contemporary gloss (or something close to it…) stuck on top, much like the walls of guitars that stretch the arrangements out a bit too easily and without much intensity. There's a lack of depth and "vision" here, a flaw that on record is offset by David Newfeld's excellent production, which layers sounds and effects into a fresco/synthesis of post-Sonic Youth and Sebadoh American indie, with an airy, sun-drenched feel that few rock records these days can match. So, a live show that only half succeeds; perhaps a little more passion for the idea of a concert as an event would have been enough. Let's go back to the "source": let's go back to that fantastic piece of plastic with “You Forgot It In People” pressed onto it. There's still plenty to enjoy there.

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